When We Want Tolerance, Christ Gives Us Mercy

Several years ago, there was a fad that went around involving bracelets with the initials WWJD: “What Would Jesus Do?”

For some, it was just a trendy thing to do, but for others, it was a reminder, a way to pause and think about their daily actions with the noble intention of following God’s will in their lives.

What would Jesus do when someone cuts in front of him at the supermarket? Or when he sees a homeless man begging for money on the street?

Those answers are easy — but life often isn’t. What would Jesus do when a family member stuck in addiction refuses to seek help? How would he handle it if a follower demanded “tolerance” for his sins, rather than mercy?

Jesus isn’t merely our conscience. He is a living person, who walked, breathed and talked with others on the shores of Galilee and in the city of Jerusalem nearly 2,000 years ago. He lives in us because he lived there first. We know what Jesus would do because he did it, or he taught it, or he sent others to teach in his stead.

There’s a book that tells us all about it, but we rarely dust it off — content to just believe what others tell us about it. The Bible comprises more than 1,000 pages, with dozens of styles, by dozens of authors — all of whom, protected by the Holy Spirit, wrote to dozens of audiences in dozens of circumstances about thousands of topics — all which pointed in some way to the revelation of the man we invoke when we ask: “What would Jesus do?”

There are no easy answers, but there are clear ones. The short answer is love. The long answer depends whether we mean man’s or God’s.

Blessed John Paul II said true love was benevolent goodwill — wanting what’s best for another person, even if that person doesn’t want it for themselves. It means encouraging the addict to go to rehab, even if he spits in your face. It means telling your daughter “no,” even if she hates you for it. And yes, sometimes it even means admonishing the sinner, even if it’s terribly uncomfortable.

None of us are perfect, and that’s the point of mercy. We don’t bear each other up in our sins. We bear each other up in hope, love and forgiveness. The love of Christ stems from Christ’s knowledge that He is what’s best for each person — not their wants, desires or happiness, however they define it.

Jesus didn’t die because he ate with sinners. He died because he forgave them, and many find forgiveness offensive. Forgiveness implies something to forgive, and Jesus was nailed to a cross because he refused to sacrifice the authentic love of God for the cheaper version of tolerance.

Jesus healed addictions. He showed pity and mercy and forgave sin because he loved the sinner, and it was the sin — not God — that was doing the person harm. Too often we think it’s the other way around. Thieves returned what they stole, and prostitutes gave up their livihoods and fell at his feet, not because he accepted them despite their sin, but because he freed them from it.

“Does no one condemn you?” Jesus asked the woman caught in adultery. “Neither do I condemn you. Now go, and sin no more.”

Contact Mike Stechschulte at mikestech187@gmail.com.