What does offering mercy mean for victims of domestic violence? Heather Morgan

 

I came across the following quote by St. Isaac of Syria today:

"Rebuke no one, revile no one, not even those who live very wickedly.

"Spread your cloak over those who fall into sin, each and every one, and shield them.

"And if you cannot take the fault on yourself and accept punishment in their place, do not destroy their character."

 

In thinking about the quote, the question was asked: “what does this kind of mercy look like in the case of those experiencing domestic violence?” 

 

It’s a hard question.

 

It’s a valid question.

 

It’s one of many similar questions - such as what about the rapist or what about the gunman or what about the terrorist or what about the [insert your personal hardest-to-love enemy here].

 

But it turns out I have the most experience with the original question - what does this kind of mercy look like in the case of those experiencing domestic violence?

 

You see, I deal with this challenge regularly. 

 

About eight years ago, our church helped to create a 5-unit transitional home for women leaving the women's shelter. We have had a number of women from this home and from similar spaces become part of our church community to various degrees, and as someone engaged in the pastoral work of the church, I have listened to their stories, heard their pain and walked alongside them through their reality. 

 

And let me be clear - we very strongly advocate for whatever steps it takes to ensure that violence does not continue. We take great pains to build solid, reliable new support structures so that women do not feel like they have 'no other choice' but to return to their abusers. And we love and protect these women and their children in the courts and with children's aid and in our community. 

 

This is compassion, but compassion only takes us so far.

 

Mercy invites us to go deeper. 

 

Mercy challenges us to look at our ‘enemy’ - in this case, the abuser - and consider how the way we treat them might have the power to change them - and us.

You see, across the street from this house we helped start is a half-way house for men coming out of prison. Many of these guys have been in prison for crimes against women, and when we first started the work, people were worried about these men putting 'our ladies' at risk. But one of our early site supervisors decided that ‘reviling' these guys wasn’t going to help, that ‘rebuking' them wasn’t going to improve matters, and that 'destroying their character' would only make it harder for us to love the women who we are trying to care for. 

 

So instead he started building a relationship with one of the long-term residents of the half-way house - I’ll call him Bill. They spent hours getting to know each other - Bill just sitting there - often in the way - while Kevin talked to him and listened to him and tried to get his job done at the same time.

 

And the time came - when the house was finally finished - that we began to see the fruit of this relational investment. Bill and his fellow residents have looked out for our ladies, called the cops to protect them, reported shifty individuals and mostly lived into the way they have been treated. 

 

But this same choice not to rebuke or revile or destroy character has also given us the opportunity to build deeper relationships with the women we serve. Because domestic abuse is complicated. And when a woman feels like the partner she chose is being demonized it can be difficult for her not to feel judged as well. By humanizing rather than dehumanizing - by showing mercy rather than judgment - we earn her trust and offer her a more generous experience of shalom - the wholeness God calls us all towards.

Would it be right for our ladies to directly love and care for their own abusers? No, and we would certainly request that a former abuser was not housed in this particular half-way house if his former partner lived in our transitional house. 

 

But I think that scripture most often calls us to love and mercy in and through community - just as the Trinity loves us and is merciful toward us in and through community. If we take this collective, communal approach to mercy, then we can both protect those who are vulnerable and love our enemies at the same time. 

 

And I am convinced that for the ‘vulnerable’ and the ‘enemy’ and even for ourselves, it is the most profoundly transformative choice we can make.