I’ll never forget one night in the emergency department. My feet were aching, three straight 12-hour shifts almost complete, and it had to be past midnight. A particularly irritable patient was making the evening difficult, and I was growing frustrated as I fumbled with a supply closet door. Just then, a voice from a friend (now a nun in Spain) cut through my irritation: “Hey, remember that’s Jesus in that bed.”
Something shifted in me right then. My annoyance softened. I leaned into patience instead of frustration. That moment, so ordinary and yet profound, taught me the power of small, intentional acts of mercy.
The Works of Mercy may sound ancient. They carry the rhythm of centuries, the weight of tradition. But their purpose has always been simple: to guide us in love. They’re not just for saints in stained glass or the clergy in ornate robes; they’re invitations meant for our everyday lives, in the messy, crowded, and often exhausting moments we all face.
When Jesus said, “As you did it to one of the least of these my brethren, you did it to me” (Matthew 25:40), He wasn’t speaking in theory. He was showing us a way to live: feed the hungry, clothe the naked, comfort the sorrowful, instruct the ignorant. These practices have been handed down through centuries like a family recipe, meant to be “cooked up fresh” in each generation.
And in today’s world, their relevance is undeniable. Hunger isn’t just in distant countries. Hunger is in our neighborhoods, in the lunchboxes of children at the school down the street. Loneliness is a quiet epidemic, with the elderly isolated and young people scrolling endlessly, searching for connection. Ignorance isn’t only about schooling: it’s the deep ache for truth in a culture full of confusion and distraction.
The 14 Works of Mercy (7 Corporal, 7 Spiritual) meet these wounds directly. They offer practical steps: feed, visit, teach, forgive. They give us a framework for responding not with despair, but with love. And here’s the beauty: they aren’t reserved for missionaries or those with extra time. They’re for nurses in late-night shifts, dads tying tiny shoes, teenagers listening to a friend who feels unseen.
We don’t need to invent new strategies to live our faith. We simply dust off these age-old practices taught to us by Christ Himself and let them shape our days. Mercy changes everything. Mercy transforms the world around us and our hearts within.
If your heart, like mine, longs for practical ways to weave mercy into everyday life, that’s why my co-authors (Elizabeth Santorum Marcolini and Claire Couche) and I wrote the Pocket Guide to the Works of Mercy. It’s our small attempt to bring an ancient treasure into the present moment, because mercy was never meant to stay in the past. Available now through Ascension Press.
Pocket Guide to the Works of Mercy – Ascension
Feature Photo by Claire Couche 🙂
