Bitter cold made even the healthy soldiers miserable this December night.

 

     Earlier that day, Union troops had repeatedly stormed Confederate lines with disastrous consequences during the Battle of Fredericksburg. At the end of the battle, thousands of Union soldiers lay dead and dying within earshot of the Confederate soldiers, unable to move or be moved by their comrades.

 

     Beneath the shadow of a stone wall, one man found the circumstances too pitiful for inaction. As the bitter cold of the winter night descended, soldiers on both sides heard the heart-wrenching pleas of the wounded for something to drink. Sgt. Richard Kirkland could bear the pleas no longer. With his commander's reluctant permission, he collected canteens and leaped the wall to offer comfort to the enemy. Union sharpshooters started firing at him right away, thinking Kirkland was out to gather souvenirs off the dead and wounded. Dodging the deadly fire, he reached the first soldier, lifted his head and gave him a drink, resting the wounded soldier's head on a knapsack.

 

     Then he moved to another soldier, and another, and another.

 

     By this time, troops on both sides of the line realized Kirkland's intent, and all firing ceased. It was replaced by cheers from both sides. Kirkland, who would afterward be known as the "Angel of Marye's Heights", learned of Christ's mercy in a Baptist church in South Carolina. On that winter night, he showed two armies what that mercy looked like translated into action.

 

     How have we translated the mercy we experience into action in our own lives? Is the mercy of Christ evident in the way we practice our faith at work? Is the mercy of Christ evident in the way we practice our faith in political matters? Is the mercy of Christ evident in the way we handle those who oppose our faith? Is the mercy of Christ evident in the way we treat even those who wish to harm us?

 

     Throughout the New Testament, Jesus continuously describes in compassionate terms His concern for those who set themselves against Him.

 

     Certainly there were social ills in His day; crucifixions and slavery are but two examples. Certainly there were despots in His days; the presence of Roman soldiers in Palestine demonstrates that. Certainly He had enemies during His hours and days on earth; witness Judas, Caiaphas, and the many bumbling attempts at entrapment by the Pharisees and Sadducees.

 

     Still, what we remember of Christ is not merely that He won the battle over all these human obstacles, but also the way He won: His mercy permeating everything and everyone around Him, including, incredibly, His final moments on the Cross.

 

     It is time for us to stop demonizing those with whom we disagree. It is time for us to stop participating in moral, ethical and even theological debates in the same vicious ways as the corrupted culture. In our workplaces, in our denominations, in our communities, in our courtrooms and in our legislative halls, we must steadfastly resist all attempts to alter the truth of Scripture. But we must also always seek to advance not only the principles of Jesus Christ, but the Person of Jesus Christ. Even in the heat of difficult struggles, where anger and venom and deceit may be practiced by others, we must be ever-eager to lay aside our shields and swords and become angels of mercy. ("But I tell you who hear me: Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who mistreat you." Jesus, in Luke 6:27-28)

 

     Sgt. Kirkland stopped seeing enemies that December night, and heard the pleas of the hopeless.

 

     In the face of mercy's triumph, celebrated this holy week by increased introspection, surely we can do no less if we truly wish to honor His gift.

 

     We say in this week: "Christ is Risen!" and then respond "He is risen, indeed!"

 

     Let it be seen in us, in deed.