29th Sunday in Ordinary Time
R. Lord, let your mercy be on us, as we place our trust in you.
Written by Scarlett Rose Ford
Like a Catholic version of peanut butter and jelly, mercy and trust are two words that often go hand-in-hand. They’re frequently found together in Scripture, such as today’s psalm, or in churches, for example, the omnipresent image of Divine Mercy which reads, “Jesus, I trust in You.” The mutuality of mercy and trust is so ingrained in us that it often goes for granted. But why?
A very basic “Theology 101” explanation for this correlation is as follows: God, in His nature, is merciful. Our existence is evidence enough for this: Although He knew we would sin, He created us. His plan for our lives, therefore, is also merciful — He would not create us out of mercy and then leave us to fend for ourselves. God desires to continue to bestow His mercy upon us; however, we must be willing to accept it, as he does not force Himself upon us. Out of mercy, God gave us free will, so we can elect to reject His plan for our lives. Yet when we do trust in Him, we align our will to His, allowing his merciful plan to be enacted.
It seems so easy: God is merciful, so I should trust in Him, duh. Then why is it so hard?
Since Lucifer’s fall from Heaven, this has been the problem: Satan cannot create life, so he tries to steal it. The very first sin he enacted in humankind was to turn Adam and Eve’s trust away from God, to convince them that He is not merciful. Satan twisted God’s words to raise doubt within them, the same way he attempts to make us doubt God’s goodness today.
Truthfully, life is meant to be so much easier than we make it, or rather, it should be easier than we allow Satan to make it. If we fully trust in God, we literally cannot fail. It’s the cheat code to everything. Once we are aware of the pattern, it’s laughable when Satan tries to make us doubt God — pathetic, even.
The second reading reestablishes this truth: Jesus identifies with the weakness of our humanity. He was likewise tempted by Satan, who promised Him all the “good” things of the world — money, power, glory. Jesus knew that His future according to God’s plan included none of those things on earth, but it was still so much greater. Jesus, too, had free will, and He had to choose to trust in the Father. In anticipation of His death, His human weakness yet full surrender is apparent: “Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me; yet, not my will but yours be done” (Luke 22:42).
In turning to God, Jesus received the grace to fulfill the Father’s will. It is this full surrender that allows us to receive God’s mercy, as Paul suggests in the second reading: “So let us confidently approach the throne of grace to receive mercy and to find grace for timely help.” In these moments, when we trust in God over the lies of Satan, we imitate the apostolic life; we allow goodness to triumph over evil. We mirror what Jesus told St. Faustina, “The graces of My mercy are drawn by means of one vessel only, and that is — trust. The more a soul trusts, the more it will receive” (Diary, 1578).
Trust is a conscious choice and action. Each day we must choose to trust that God is merciful, repeating the words on the image of Divine Mercy, “Jesus, I trust in You.” Once we see how natural this correlation between trust and mercy is, just like peanut butter and jelly, it becomes obvious. This action of trust comes down to asking ourselves one question, especially in moments of doubt: Am I going to trust the lies of Satan, thereby rejecting God’s mercy, or am I going to trust God, allowing His mercy to sustain me?
Scarlett Rose Ford is a Master of Theological Studies student at Harvard University. She works as a news correspondent for Harvard Divinity School and a freelance Catholic journalist. Scarlett is reachable via Instagram and Linkedin.
Pray with today’s psalm.