What is a merciful heart? It is the heart’s burning for all of creation, for men, for birds, for animals, and even for demons. At the remembrance and at the sight of them, the merciful man’s eyes fill with tears that arise from the great compassion that urges his heart. It grows tender and cannot endure hearing or seeing any injury or slight sorrow to anything in creation. Because of this, such a man continually offers tearful prayer even for irrational animals and for the enemies of truth and for all that harm it, that they may be guarded and forgiven. (St Isaac the Syrian, quoted in The Illumined Heart, by Frederica Mathewes-Green)
It’s the heart of the father in the prodigal son story. It’s the heart of God.
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This heart sounds more tender than that of God – much more tender – does not sound like God at all.
Excuse me Ken? For your sake, and for mine, I hope not. I trust God’s compassion is at least this deep
If I took the indifferent cruelty of nature for a measure of the divine heart, then I’d agree, Ken. But faith tells me to stay with Jesus’ picture of God in the prodigal son story, which I’m reflecting on this week for Sunday’s sermon. Peace to you.
I think it sounds very much like God. At least, the God revealed by Christ.
I’m with Chris on this one. If I look around, yeah, stuff sucks. It’s always sucked. But living in hope means that I believe one day it won’t suck.
When God says that one day he’ll gather all things to himself, I’m going to believe and give thanks for the “all” part. I won’t go so far as to say it’ll be universal salvation, but I think there will be the opportunity for something like it. If nothing else, I can hope and pray it will be that way. Isn’t that what we’re supposed to do? Hope and pray…for everyone?
The cruelty of nature or the problem of evil and suffering, as Chris observed, is part of the reason I say this. In addition, in the Bible God does much that is not tender: the flood, Sodom and Gomorrah, killing everyone, including animals in the conquest of Canaan, the Babylonian exile, the abuse of Job and many other things. In addition, Jesus is not presented a tender man, but as the messiah. In the end, at the second coming, he returns drenched in blood having slain the enemies of Israel. In the Bible, including the New Testament, God is not tender, God is loyal to Israel and fierce in that loyalty, jealous of other Gods and fierce in that jealousy. He is like the father of the prodigal in that he will not reject his returning son, Israel. But he is not tender. He is not one who “cannot endure hearing or seeing any injury or slight sorrow to anything in creation.”
Perhaps St. Isaac wishes that we would participate in the PROCESS of the “Heart of the Father of the prodigal son”. Lots of bad things did happen in the Bible, and lots of people we would normally think of as being bad were “helped” by God. What if it is about turning to God, developing compassion that is the point – compassion for everything, and embracing the best – that St. Isaac wishes for us to do?
“The cruelty of nature or the problem of evil and suffering” can’t be ignored. What if we have to understand the place evil and suffering come from to be fully compassionate?
Yes, Ken. Lots of cruelty in the Bible. No question. Perhaps Jesus told the parable of the prodigal son to give us a subversive, alternative image of God. Peace to you today in your search.
Perhaps, but it is also possible, likely, I think, that the story has nothing to do with that. I think it is likely that it was only an assurance that if Israel repented, or turned back, came back, God was ready to restore the blessings. It was a parable about the coming of the kingdom, the restoration of the blessings, not an alternative image of God. I think Jesus had an image of God that is quite different from the compassionate humanist image we imagine.
Ken,
I certainly agree the actions recorded and prophesized in Scripture are not all roses and sunshine. I’m no more interested in a G-rated Polly Anna story of God than I imagine you are.
What I am saying, in regard to the first quote, is that stuff sucks not because God wants it to suck, but because we made it suck. (Too bad “suck(s)” wasn’t in common usage in Luther’s day. He could have gotten miles off of it…)
I do not believe God laid down the hurt on the Jews, Canaanites and their oxen simply because he got his divine jollies out of it. Seems he has always desired, from the beginning, a better way. But we tend to foul that better way up. And then have the nerve to criticize how things are made right.
I absolutely, unequivocally believe God is a compassionate, merciful God. Which is good news indeed. At least for me. Because I am not, by my own disposition, a very merciful man.
SRB,
LIke you, I think the Bible clearly supports the idea that God is merciful. I just don’t think it (or life experience) supports the idea that the heart of God “cannot endure hearing or seeing any injury or slight sorrow to anything in creation.” In addition, although the Bible and experience support the idea that we foul things up, I don’t think either the Bible or experience supports the idea that this accounts for all the bad stuff. And I think the Bible supports the idea that God is responsible for a lot of bad stuff.
Re: the nerve to criticize
I think when Job showed such nerve, at the least the nerve to complain, God essentially acknowledged that he had wronged Job (and by implication, perhaps, Israel). In the end Job received more back from God than he lost, which implies at least some guilt on God’s part, even if Job did curse God in his heart.