Not-So-Tender Mercies

The other day, I was craving chicken-fried steak of all things. Even though we have a Cracker Barrel less than two miles down the street, I felt like giving it a go. I got some of that “pre-tenderized” steak and started in with the mallet. I pounded it down, then pounded some more, until I figured it was ready to dredge and fry. In all humility, I’m happy to report that it turned out pretty well. One thing bothered me: while frying, it partially returned to its original state and ended up a little thicker than I would have liked and was not super tender. (It was still yummy and incredibly unhealthy.) The mistake? It actually needed more pounding to be tender.

Why am I writing about pounding steak? I’ll get there, I promise.

A week doesn’t go by where I don’t hear the phrase “tender mercies” in a religious context. Whether it be in a testimony, talk, lesson or conversation, it is a prevalent concept in our faith. It’s been a frequent part of our vernacular since Elder David A. Bednar gave a landmark discourse in the April, 2005 General Conference entitled, The Tender Mercies of the Lord. Before Elder Bednar, Nephi spoke of tender mercies – even in the very first chapter of The Book of Mormon. The phrase is found often in the Psalms and Proverbs of the Old Testament as well.

A simple definition is given in Elder Bednar’s discourse. “The Lord’s tender mercies are the very personal and individualized blessings, strength, protection, assurances, guidance, loving-kindnesses, consolation, support, and spiritual gifts which we receive from and because of and through the Lord Jesus Christ.”

Tender mercies are truly wonderful gifts the Lord gives us, but I’ve come to understand that all of the Lord’s mercies can’t be described as “tender.”

The day after Christmas, my sweet wife lost her brother, who had lived a difficult life. His passing was truly a tender mercy for him. It was not-so-tender for other members of the family as they struggled with his passing and the associated memories, regrets, grief, and mourning that accompanies such events. Even so, I believe that my brother-in-law’s passing will prove to be a great mercy to those that bid him farewell because of the impact it will have on the lives and hearts of those that bid him farewell.

Sometimes the Lord’s mercies can be painful, crushing and bruising. As we study Church History in Come Follow Me this year, we will read of countless merciful experiences that the early saints and their leaders suffered that were anything but tender.

I have loved ones who have recently suffered emotional and physical ills. I know several of my readers have recently lost loved ones or are in the midst of tremendous hardship. Tragedy is a frequent vistor in our earthly lives. Sometimes it can feel like we are that piece of steak being hammered into submission.

Because we are.

It hurts. It is inevitable. The very idea that these things can somehow be considered of mercy to us can be unfathomable at the time.

Thankfully, there is a point to those not-so-tender mercies. President Spencer W. Kimball reiterated the words of Orson F. Whitney, one of the early apostles of the Restoration:

“No pain that we suffer, no trial that we experience is wasted. It ministers to our education, to the development of such qualities as patience, faith, fortitude and humility. All that we suffer and all that we endure, especially when we endure it patiently, builds up our characters, purifies our hearts, expands our souls, and makes us more tender and charitable, more worthy to be called the children of God … and it is through sorrow and suffering, toil and tribulation, that we gain the education that we come here to acquire and which will make us more like our Father and Mother in heaven.” (Link)

It can be difficult to accept that suffering and tragedies can actually be not-so-tender mercies from the Lord. He allows challenging and brutal things to happen – all with the intent of sanctifying us. Sometimes we can see it while we are in it, but often it is only in retrospect that we can see the mercy inherent in the experience.

One of my favorite examples of this is from Church History. The prophet Joseph was being held in horrid conditions in Liberty Jail. There was nothing “tender” about it. Yet, from a different perspective, this not-so-tender experince helped Joseph grow and resulted in some of the most significant scripture ever written. (D&C 121, 122, 123) It context, it was not-so-merciful, yet greatly merciful to Joseph and so many of us that have benefited.

The Lord even acknowledge that what Joseph was experiencing, and could yet experience was, indeed, brutal. Nothing tender about it. But the mercy was promised with this simple phrase. “all these things shall give thee experience and shall be for thy good.” (Link)

I’m not sure how I would have responded in his place. Would I have had the faith and perspective to find the mercy in the struggles? Could I say, as Elder Wirthlin taught, “Come what may, and love it.” (link)

I hope so…but I’m not super-confident.

Elder Wirthlin went on to teach, “How can we love days that are filled with sorrow? We can’t—at least not in the moment…If we approach adversities wisely, our hardest times can be times of greatest growth, which in turn can lead toward times of greatest happiness.”

When I was a little boy, the Timex watch company had a slogan: “It takes a licking and keeps on ticking.” (Such unexpected wisdom from a watch company.)

As Elder Wirthlin implied, I’m not suggesting that we can always find the mercy when we are in the middle of being pounded. Sometimes we can, but other times it can take weeks, years, or even a lifetime to find that what we suffered was actualy merciful. For examle, when I was a younger man I was laid off from my job. It was a devasting loss and threw our little fmaily into turmoil. But, it was one of the best, most merciful things that has ever happened to me. Some experience illness, injury, financial loss, loss of relationships, and disaster that actually make their lives – or their souls – better.

In the aftermath of the tragic California fires, there will be people who will eventually say, “It was the best thing that ever happened to me.” I expect this because of the many people who have emerged from tragedy and painful circumstances with that same, unexpected response: “It was the best thing that ever happened to me.

The most merciful act of all time was not so tender: The atoning sacrifice of the Savior. But here’s a beautiful thing: in the midsts of His suffering, what did Christ receive? A tender mercy! Angels ministered unto Him. (Luke 22:43)

I’m sure that most of you have experienced your own moments of tremendous suffering which you will eventually define as merciful, if you haven’t already. If you haven’t experienced such, it’s coming. It is inevitable. Ironically, in the midst of those not-so-merciful moments is when the tender mercies can be felt.

As we express our gratitude for the tender mercies we recognize in our lives, lets remember that some of the greatest mercies we experience are anything but tender.