What would it mean if we were to find ourselves defined entirely by our need for mercy? The passages from Psalm 33 in today's lectionary do precisely that. “Lord, let your mercy be on us” is the repeated request, with its obvious implication that, like the tax collector in the Gospel of Luke, we are sinners whose salvation depends upon receiving it.

There is something unmerited about mercy; we only seek it in situations where justice might well doom us. Even as the psalm admits that the Lord “loves justice and right,” it also proclaims a “hope for his kindness” which will take precedence. There is an implicit contradiction in the Lord beings described as “our help and our shield,” since what is being sought is protection from his own justice. This is the paradox of mercy; it can only be granted by one who has the power to act without it.

But, as Paul makes clear in his letter to Timothy, while the gospel is inseparable from “hardship,” Christ is the answer to our cry for mercy, having “destroyed death and brought life and immortality...through the gospel.” Could there be any greater mercy than that? The transfigured Christ portrayed by St. Matthew can be seen as the blessing promised by the Lord to Abram, and which “all the communities of the earth shall find.” And this is the reassurance of God's voice making clear to the disciples who Jesus is: “beloved Son,” pleasing to the Father. The sole instruction given to them is the one that we also are offered: “listen to him.” It is in those words of his that we will be offered the mercy for which we ask.