Mindsoulness – where mind and soul meet!

The most popular story in my family, and one that has had the deepest impact on me as a kid, was and is about Mercy. My father used to tell me how my grandfather was such a forgiving and merciful man. He was a colonel in the army in charge of a regiment and sometime he had to punish the occasional soldier that was caught doing something wrong by sending them to the camp jail. Oftentimes, at the end of the day, my grandfather would walk by, notice the man in the cell, and ask: “What are you doing in there?” to which the soldier would respond: “I did this and that and you sent me here for punishment.” At that, my grandfather reply was always the same: “Get out of there!” My father was particularly proud of this “soft spot” in my “nonno” and every time he told the story his eyes lit up or became moist. By this story one may think that my grandpa was a weak person. But he was not. He was a man of integrity and did not hesitate to refuse submission to the fascist regime and declare his loyalty to the country and the king. And this cost his career.

Mercy is often misunderstood as weakness—a soft or passive response to wrongdoing. Yet, true mercy requires inner strength, deep humility, and spiritual maturity. By stating “To be merciful is to be strong” I wish to challenge the world’s traditional notions of strength as domination or revenge. Instead, Let us consider mercy’s strength as the power to forgive, to withhold judgment, and to act in love. 

Mercy is blessing others with our compassion and forgiveness. We are touched by their suffering and want to help. While Justice is giving people what they deserve, Mercy is giving them more. We are merciful when we give ourselves and others a fresh chance after an offense or mistake: nothing inspires hope so much as a clean slate. When we have the humility to remember the countless mercies we receive throughout life, we find it in our hearts to show mercy to others. We offer the gift of our tenderness. 

In many faith and spiritual traditions, mercy is upheld as a divine and powerful virtue. For instance, in the Jewish Torah, mercy is a fundamental attribute of God, often expressed through the Hebrew word “rachamim”, which shares the same root as rechem, meaning “womb.” This linguistic connection highlights the deeply compassionate, nurturing aspect of divine mercy—akin to a mother’s love for her child. One of the clearest declarations of God’s merciful nature appears in Exodus 34:6, where the Lord proclaims Himself as “compassionate and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in lovingkindness and truth.” This verse, often repeated in Jewish liturgy, underscores that mercy is not merely an occasional act but a core part of God’s character. Throughout the Torah, divine mercy is demonstrated in God’s willingness to forgive the Israelites after repeated acts of disobedience. After the sin of the Golden Calf (Exodus 32), Moses pleads with God to show mercy rather than destroy the people. God’s decision to renew the covenant despite their failure illustrates mercy as a deliberate act of relational restoration. This covenantal mercy and love (hesed) is bound to God’s promises and often works in tandem with justice, not negating it but tempering its consequences. Additionally, Mercy is also a moral imperative for human beings. In Deuteronomy 10:18–19, God is described as defending the cause of the widow, orphan, and stranger, and the Israelites are commanded to love the stranger because they themselves were once strangers in Egypt. Here, mercy moves beyond divine attribute to human obligation—grounded in empathy, memory, and justice. In the Torah, to be merciful is not only to imitate God but to sustain community through compassion and righteousness.

Buddhism teaches that true strength lies in mastering the self. The Dhammapada states, “Though one should conquer a thousand men in battle, the one who conquers himself is the greatest warrior.” Compassion, or karuna, is a central virtue. Showing mercy—even toward those who cause harm—is seen as an expression of spiritual wisdom. The bodhisattva ideal is one who delays their own enlightenment to help others. In this selfless compassion lies strength that transcends ego and fear. Mercy becomes a source of liberation—for both the giver and receiver.

Another favourite of mine is the Baha’i Reflection of Mercy. The Bahá’í Faith speaks of God as “the All-Merciful” and encourages believers to manifest this attribute in daily life. Bahá’u’lláh, founder of the Bahá’í Faith, wrote: “Let your heart burn with loving kindness for all who may cross your path.” For Bahá’ís, mercy is not about indulgence but about justice tempered with love. Strength is found not in overpowering others but in building unity, healing divisions, and lifting the oppressed. Mercy, then, is a force that builds civilization. How beautiful a concept!

In my faith, and generally within the Christian tradition, mercy is central to the plan of salvation. The Book of Mormon teaches, “And thus mercy can satisfy the demands of justice, and encircles them in the arms of safety” (Alma 34:16). This implies that true justice includes room for mercy, and that God’s strength is found in His ability to forgive. Disciples of Christ are encouraged to emulate this divine quality. Elder Dieter F. Uchtdorf once said, “We are not perfect. The people around us are not perfect. People do things that annoy, disappoint, and anger. However, we must let go of grievances. That is the Lord’s way.” The strength to forgive, especially when deeply wronged, comes not from pride but from a heart transformed by Christ.

Throughout the Bible, God is described as “merciful and gracious, slow to anger, and abounding in steadfast love” (Psalm 103:8). Jesus Christ, during His earthly ministry, modeled mercy as strength. In the story of the woman caught in adultery (John 8:1–11), He defied cultural norms and exposed hypocrisy—not by attacking, but by showing compassion. In the Sermon on the Mount, He taught, “Blessed are the merciful: for they shall obtain mercy” (Matthew 5:7). This beatitude links mercy to a divine cycle—those who give mercy draw closer to God’s strength.

And let us not forget the Atonement of Jesus Christ, which is the supreme act of mercy and strength. In the Garden of Gethsemane and on the cross, He bore the weight of all sin, not through retaliation but through submission, forgiveness, and love. From a Latter-day Saint view, this infinite act of mercy opened the way for all to repent and be healed. The Savior’s words on the cross—“Father, forgive them; for they know not what they do” (Luke 23:34)—are not only the pinnacle of mercy but the truest expression of divine power.

However, mercy today seems to be taking a backseat to the glorification of personal success, independence, and competition. Phrases like “look out for number one” or “you do you” reflect a worldview where personal achievement and autonomy are paramount. In such a culture, mercy—requiring vulnerability, empathy, and sometimes sacrifice—can be seen as inefficient or even weak. When winning, asserting, or dominating are the metrics of success, mercy often doesn’t fit the model. Furthermore, in this fast-paced, often divisive world, people are increasingly guarded. Whether due to political polarization, economic insecurity, or social fragmentation, many individuals find it safer to protect themselves emotionally and socially. Mercy demands openness—it involves giving people the benefit of the doubt, forgiving, or showing compassion. But in an atmosphere of fear or suspicion, mercy may feel like a risk people can’t afford to take. As secularism grows and individual moral autonomy becomes the norm, collective values that uphold mercy—like grace, forgiveness, and service—can fade into the background. Without a unifying spiritual or communal ethic, people may lack the inner or outer support systems that encourage merciful living. And there is no better time than today to be less selfish and more altruistic. It’s the only way to a better world.

In my personal experience with people in the community and those I know from around the world the longing for mercy still lives quietly in most hearts—and reawakening it could be the key to healing much of our modern disconnection.  In daily life, choosing mercy over retaliation can be deeply challenging. Whether in family conflicts, workplace tensions, or social injustices, it often feels easier to react with anger or to hold grudges. Yet, as disciples of Christ and seekers of peace across traditions, we are invited to forgive, to understand, and to heal. Strength is found in restraint, in the willingness to see others through God’s eyes, and in building bridges rather than walls.

Mercy has the power to transform individuals, families, and communities. It softens hearts, repairs broken relationships, and fosters healing. When we choose mercy, we participate in God’s work of redemption. Across faiths, we see that the world is not healed by dominance, but by compassion. It is the merciful who truly change the course of history—not through conquest, but through love.

“To be merciful is to be strong” because it demands more of the soul than retaliation ever could. From Christ’s sacrifice to the quiet compassion of a Buddhist monk or a Bahá’í servant, mercy reflects the strength of those who rise above the ego and act with love. In a world hungry for justice and healing, mercy stands not as weakness, but as divine strength in action. Let us strive to live it boldly.

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