Merciful Like the Father.
- Fr. Tom
- Apr 27
- 3 min read

In 2001, Pope John Paul designated the Second Sunday of Easter each year as Divine Mercy Sunday. As you may recall, he died on the vigil of that celebration just four years later. His final words were: “Let me depart to the house of the Father.” This is a reference to Jesus’ promise that Jesus goes to prepare a place for us in the Father’s house (John 14:2) – the ultimate gift of the mercy of God to save us from death and bestow on us perfect joy that does not diminish or end.
Though God’s mercy is a constant theme in the Scriptures from Genesis all the way through the Book of Revelation, the familiar current devotion to Divine Mercy originated in a private vision. On February 22, 1931, Jesus appeared to Saint Faustina Kowalska (born in Poland in 1905) and requested devotion to the Mercy of God.
Her account of his appearance is seen in the now-familiar image: Jesus with his right hand raised in blessing, his left hand pointing to His Sacred Heart, from which flow two rays of light. The red rays symbolize his Precious Blood poured out for our salvation from the depths of His divine Mercy, and the white symbolize the purifying waters of Baptism. Jesus asked her to display this image in her convent chapel, above the words: “Jesus, I trust in You.”
St. Faustina was canonized by St. John Paul II on the Second Sunday of Easter, April 30, 2000. Her diary of her brief but rich spiritual life fills over 600 pages, focused around the message of God’s saving mercy and the call to true conversion – not in shame and fear, but in love and trust. It is understandable that the Polish Pope had a special regard for the Polish nun whose spiritual experience testifies to one of his most frequent themes: “Do not be afraid.” The source of that courage (which he displayed so vividly on the world’s stage) is not human bravery but trust in God’s merciful, redeeming love.
But St. John Paul was not alone in this regard. As you may recall, Pope Francis established an Extraordinary Year of Jubilee in 2015-16, also focused on Divine Mercy, with the theme: “Merciful Like the Father.”
Aside from the history, how does Divine Mercy speak to us in today’s troubled time? Ultimately, to understand mercy is to experience it, to give and receive it. We understand that “mercy is for me, but not only for me.” Mercy is woven together with relationships. Mercy is about giving as well as receiving; it is not only found in being forgiven; it is found in forgiving others and doing good to them.
That is why mercy is not so much a concept to be pondered, but a mystery to be lived. It is worth considering: I exist solely because God is merciful. And because God is merciful, I can live in hope, freedom, assurance. My life is a gift, so I can give that gift away to others and find the joy that is the inner life of God. This is meant to be among the consequences of those words: Jesus, I trust in you.
We hear much today about justice – and rightly so, for it is one of the cardinal virtues necessary for civil order and respect. But mercy is something greater. Mercy is not opposed to justice, but envelops and perfects it. In the thought of St. Thomas Aquinas, justice gives to another what is due; mercy gives more good than is strictly due.
Justice makes us fair, virtuous, and responsible persons. Mercy makes us like God.
What simple but sincere work of mercy can you offer another this week?
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