The Passion of Mercy

A contemplation of forgiveness
By Father John R. Green

Copyright © by John R. Green
Shown with his blessing

Those devil fathered demons of Auschwitz;
Murderers of the family I loved!
Damnation upon your every breathing moment of you hideous lives,
And upon your deceasing may God in His righteous power and glory
Grant me the ecstasy, the joy, the rapture of witnessing
The consumation of your bones in Hell!


Here in my paralytic state, the victim of an alcoholic fool,
I mock your pleadings, will you be forgiving?
Will the stars dance? Will the moon waltz? Will the sun swim?
I haunt your conscience and your living,
As you behold my shattered hopes and dreams
For family, home and career.
May God bestow upon you as you inflicted me!


You go your way, and I will go mine
And no reconciliation will ensue!
Only once will you deceive me.
I abhor deception; I will not pardon injury.
Your shallow performance renders you oblivious
In my thought and sight!

Oh wretched hussy, coveter of my dear son's love,
Now his eyes are opened, your worth is exposed!
Tearfully you seek my pardon, promising amends
While I wonder under heaven's knowing
Whether any mother-in-law has suffered, as grieviously as have I.
Your appearance in my presence is anathema;
The coolness of an iceberg you will feel!

Oh Father Henry, troubled, baffled and bewildered
I await your confirmation class.
To our youthful minds and hearts
You urge us to be forgiving,
Depicting the mercy of forgiving
As the paramount, the highest, the greatest
Virtue of the Christian life.
In my spirit, in my soul I grasp that my living today
Hinges upon my having been forgiven.
God gave His Son for my deliverance.
Yet, I see the unforgiving solemnly, deliberatedly
Arriving at the Altar to receive the Sacrament from you.
Do you call them Christians?

No, my son, my perplexed and intuitive son, the unforgiving
Are not in love and charity with their neighbors;
Their cinders lie outside the gates of the Kingdom of Heaven.
With fear and trembling have you faced them, their unmerciful ways?
Their evading of the commandment high of God?

Father Henry, I am haunted by their arguments for not heeding
They contend this commandment has no application for them
Having been hurt and offended is such despicable ways.
With my gasping ears I hear God expects too much of them,
Maintaining that they cannot be perfect in every way.

And finally to the aching of my depressed mind,
They proudly proposed that Matthew distorted
This teaching of our Lord!
But, oh Father Henry, the lack of mercy has struggled in my heart;
I believe I have forgiven, but the temptation remains sore!

Truly my son, within my conscience I have wrestled,
Only by God's strength and grace have I been forgiving!

Father Henry, your comfort buoys me,
But they proclaim they are Christians,
And I want them to truly be.

Pray for them, my son, pray that they will accept the truth of God,
That shall truly make them resentment free!