The first time she stopped me I was coming out of a local shop having picked up a parcel. She was in her twenties or maybe thirties and a woman with some clear learning disabilities. She asked if I could buy her some sweets. I didn’t.

A few days later she stopped me for a second time and told me the shopkeeper had been shouting at her. Presumably for stopping customers outside her shop and asking them to buy her sweets. The third time she stopped me, she asked me to buy her some shower gel. Again I didn’t, though it would have been better for everyone if I had.

I was irritated by the interruptions, the inconvenience and importantly by my lack of charitable response. Was I really this, well, mean?

A few days later, I was stopped by a different lady. She asked me to buy her some food or to go to the cash point and get some cash for her. She wasn’t a drug addict she assured me, showing me her arms were free from the telltale marks. She hadn’t however helped her case by choosing to stand outside the state off-licence. So it may very well have been true that no poison went into her arms, but it almost certainly wasn’t true that poison didn’t go down her throat. I was busy, as always, and brushed her off. Turns out, despite my excuses and justifications, I’m more a Levite or Pharisee than I am a Samaritan.

It just so happened that as this had been happening I had started reading Natalie Williams’ book ‘Tis Mercy All¹. Mercy, is one of the main self-descriptors of God. He is love, He is gracious, He is compassionate, He is merciful. It is He says, who He is.

But more often that not we are not very merciful despite being told repeatedly we should be. And by, we, I mean me, and I mean Christians for whom this book is written. Too often we let prejudices and common sense objections stop us from being merciful and yet walk away justified in our own eyes, as was true for me.

Natalie sees this, not only in others but in herself.

But to be honest with you, I do not always like mercy. Don’t get me wrong – if you come to my church and say, ‘Hands up who likes mercy’, I’m going to raise my hand. I like it when it is shown to me.

But when I clock some of the attitudes that come out of my mouth and reactions that flash up in my heart, I realise I am not so keen on mercy when it is shown to those who, in my opinion, do not deserve it.

With refreshing honesty, she shares her own struggles with unmerciful thoughts and responses, often recounting how the Holy Spirit catches her in the act—eliciting her favourite expression: “Gah!” I was beginning to empathize and was adding my own ‘Gahs’ on an almost daily basis it seemed.

But before we get to our unmerciful hearts, she explores God’s merciful one. It’s a great and rich seam of truth about the character and nature of God. In five short chapters the foundation is well and truly laid, and we are confronted repeatedly but ever so gently with the astonishing and boundless mercy of God.

Biblical mercy is loving-kindness in action towards someone who does not deserve it. It is active compassion towards those who have no right to demand it, no credible claim to it, and no reason to expect it.

And he has been very merciful to me, as He has been to you.

The second part of the book is where the real heart surgery begins. Natalie explores our resistance to mercy: our obsession with justice, our suspicion of others’ motives, our need for control, and the excuses we make—some pious, others petty. What about God’s holiness? What about discipline and judgement? What about my own suffering? Is it really true that His mercies are new every morning?

Her answer, again and again: Yes. Yes, it is.

The third part begins to move us forward to better ways of thinking and how to spot unmerciful responses and cultivate more Father-like ones. Planks are removed and the ways we are far more judgemental than we should be comfortable with are gently exposed and brought into the light.

Of course it is not enough just to believe and delight in God’s rich and boundless mercy. It is also not enough to work on thinking more kindly and generously towards others. Mercy is something to love, but it is also something to do. We are called to do mercy (Luke 10:37). but this is the end of the book, because mercy cannot simply be a new set of rules and laws but a response of hearts that want to be merciful as our Father in heaven is merciful. But if you’re going to take that command seriously the it will have consequences for not just your heart but your money, your time, your stuff, the way you live and think about everything from your holiday to your home and everything in it. Gah!

Having said “no” four times to people asking for help—regardless of how “undeserving” they seemed—I realised I didn’t like the unmerciful version of myself. So I made a quiet vow: the next person who asked, I would help.

Which is how I ended up buying a piece of prime steak for a Roma man who, sensing an opportunity, asked the butcher for a cut far better than the ones I ever buy for myself. Again: Gah. And thrice Gah.

He has Natalie to thank for that. And so do I.

Love mercy. Do mercy. Be like your Father.

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