Mercy is Number Seven
Last week, I enjoyed a conversation with my friend Marshall Burke, Ph.D. For 20 years, he worked with CARE International (the acronym originally stood for Cooperative for Assistance and Relief Everywhere). He introduced CARE’s HIV and Women’s Health Program in Latin America and Africa. Marshall’s job was to help individuals and families in the poorest communities in the world.
Truly, to know Marshall is to come into contact with mercy.
Marshall’s career took him to horrific, pitiable scenes on several continents as he administered humanitarian aid. He spoke of setting up a refugee camp in Macedonia. I’m pretty sure we were talking 
about Radusa, a camp described (though not named) in the second section of my book, From the Lives We Knew, the part which features characters from Kosovo who become refugees in Macedonia. Marshall described some of the illnesses and injuries refugees brought to the camp. When I told him about the Norwegian art therapist working with little Albanian Kosovar boys in one of my stories, Marshall said he saw remarkable results from such activities.
Once again, we hear the mantra of the Beatitudes: “Blessed are the merciful, for they will receive mercy.”
For many people, health care is the first thought associated with the word mercy. In the list of nine virtues found among characters of my upcoming book, the seventh is mercy. “By” and “to” are the working prepositions.
When is mercy shown by someone in a story? When is it shown to someone?
Both the “by” and “to” aspects of health care play an important role in refugee stories. For example, a Palestinian nurse goes far beyond the requirements of her duty to show mercy to a man with serious injuries. She restores his soul and his strength. An Iraqi doctor devotes himself to other refugees and disciplines himself to obtain the qualifications to spend his life showing mercy to others.
In the fourth section of the book, two Americans endeavor to show mercy to the refugees whose stories are told in the previous three parts. They try, which is not the same as saying they’re always effective or successful.
It’s one thing to feel sorry for someone, and something else to be truly helpful.
Also, there’s a difference between giving people hope that you can help them, and living up to their expectations. We may want to show mercy yet find ourselves unprepared for the complications and difficulties of doing so. Sometimes, showing mercy involves risking criticism or unexpected conflict. Often, being merciful calls for a costly, long-term commitment.
When have you shown or received mercy?
