Scottish Catholic Observer

AS the Year of Mercy draws rapidly to a close, I’ve been thinking a lot about what a year it has been, and reflecting upon what the long-term effects of such a year might be on me personally, on us as a Catholic community, and on the wider world.

Starting with the world, could there ever be a time in all of human history when mercy was more needed? Mercy and forgiveness have always been needed. From the Garden of Eden till now, there has never been a time when mercy was not needed.

Perhaps the best thing about this Year of Mercy is that it was the Church who issued the invitation and, as ever and always, at the heart of the Church is Christ.

It’s in His name that we offer mercy and it’s His mercy that is showered on all who seek His healing and forgiveness.

It is a wonderful thing to see on public display, outside and inside our churches, the Year of Mercy image of the merciful face of the Father. The Good Shepherd carrying the sheep; the Father embracing His child. I have no doubt that many, many people throughout the world and indeed much closer to home here in our own country experienced the mercy of God, perhaps for the first time or perhaps for the hundredth time.

For me the really important thing is that the Church made the invitation and many people accepted it, gratefully and with sincere, open hearts.

So what impact on our Catholic community here in Scotland? Upon reflection I suppose it’s just obvious that the more you put in, the more you get out. Most parishes have made some efforts to at least acknowledge the year and to provide opportunities for mercy to be received and to be practised.

Hopefully many lessons have been learned, many graces received and acknowledged. Mercy, true mercy, is a magnificent gift.

Once you have received mercy you hopefully never forget what it meant to you, and that experience of peace is something you will want others to receive too.

And finally how has this Year of Mercy affected me? Tears, and buckets of them! I’ve always been someone who loves a good ‘greet,’ causing my brother Martin to comment on more than one occasion that I was ‘like a Christmas card, aye greeting.’ Thank God I’m not living at home anymore—he’d have had me certified over these last few months.

I’m a great believer in the cathartic power of a good tearful session. Not your wee whimpering sniffle, mind, but your full-blown sobbing.

For me, tears are very seldom the result of sadness, but rather poignant tears over something that has really touched me. I’ve even been known to fast forward some of my favourite films to the sad bit just so I can have a good cry and still get to bed before midnight. (The ‘toora roola loola’ scene in Going My Way, Steve Biko’s funeral in Cry Freedom, the salt work massacre scene in Ghandi, Eric Liddell’s ‘When I run I feel God’s pleasure’ scene in Chariots of Fire and just about any scene from Schindler’s List, The Mission (above) and Shadowlands.)

OK I hear you mutter, your collection of favourite films is very interesting I’m sure, but what exactly has this got to do with mercy? Well, it’s simple.

All these ‘stories’ touch me at a very profound and very human level. They move me, not just to tears but to justice: they make me want to be a better person, to share with others all that is in my heart, a heart touched with pity and the desire for mercy.

The bottom line is, the common thread in all of this is the greatness of our God, the wonder of the miracle of life, the remarkable power of the human spirit and the unbearable reality that all of this is mine, all of this has you and me at the heart of it.

We are not afterthoughts in the plan of God, we are right at the heart of it all, including right at the heart of His mercy.

The most precious gift any one of us can ever have, beyond all price, is to know that we are known and loved by the Father, created in His image and likeness and for all eternity.

It’s this knowledge that brings me to tears, not of sadness but of pure gratitude and joy.

Mercy means many things to many different people. Ask 100 people what it means to them and you’ll get 100 different answers. For me, mercy and love are inseparable and we can never have enough of either.

I pray that all of you in your lives have truly experienced the Lord’s mercy and in turn been able to give that mercy to others. May we and the Church never tire of proclaiming it from the rooftops.