Brief synopsis of the readings: We return to Exodus where the Israelites camped in the desert in front of the mountain. Moses went up the mountain were God called him to remind the Israelites of how God treated the Egyptians and bore the Israelites “up on eagle wings.” God promised that if they kept his commands they “shall be to me a kingdom of priests, a holy nation.” In Matthew’s Gospel Jesus was moved with pity for the crowds as they were troubled and abandoned “like sheep without a shepherd.” Jesus then summoned his twelve disciples and gave them authority over unclean spirits with the ability to cure illness. After instructing them he sent them out but told them not to go to pagan territory or Samaria but only to the “lost sheep of Israel.” They were to proclaim that the kingdom of heaven is at hand. “Cure the sick, raise the dead, cleanse lepers, drive out demons. Without cost you have received; without cost are you to give.”

So how many of us read the first reading and looked immediately to the part about how God treated the Egyptians and feared that might happen to us? If so, go easy on yourself; many of us read it this way for years. I know I did. But the line we need to pay attention to is the last: “You shall be to me a kingdom of priests, a holy nation.”

When we think about God’s emotions it generally doesn’t go well for us. Particularly in the Old Testament we focus on God’s anger and jealousy and that’s a shame. I talk about this often but God has big dreams for us and that’s why he delivered us from slavery. God looks on us with great affection.

We see that also with Jesus in the Gospel. It doesn’t get much clearer than this: “Jesus’ heart was moved with pity for [the crowds] because they were troubled and abandoned, like sheep without a shepherd.” In reality we’ve never been abandoned by God, there’s never been a point where God has walked away.

We may not like being compared to sheep there is some truth here. If not herded, sheep will often wander away and find themselves in danger and wonder why they lack protection. Here’s where the metaphor falls apart though. When faced with the loss of one sheep the shepherd will likely cut his losses rather than endanger the rest of the herd; he feels no affection for the sheep and they matter only for the wool and mutton they produce. And if this was a sheep that was prone to wandering, well …

Here’s where I think we can stray from the message of these readings. When we think that God’s mercy and patience are finite we wander off and feel abandoned, not because God has abandoned us but because we think we have run out of chances.

In December of 2015 Pope Francis proclaimed a “Jubilee Year of Mercy” that lasted until November of 2016. He called us to spend that year not only recognizing God’s infinite mercy but our call to embody that toward each other. Obviously we didn’t complete the task and it’s worth admitting that at the end of that year we elected a President who promised vengeance on his enemies.

Let’s face it: the call to mercy often flies in the face of what we’ve been told about protecting ourselves. Social media and advice columns tell us that we need to primarily look out for ourselves and not be taken advantage of. And let’s be clear: we are not called to be perpetual victims or let people treat us as less than the children of God that we are.

But mercy insists that we not give up on each other. When Jesus sent his Twelve he sent them to the “lost sheep of the house of Israel.” He told them not to go to pagan territory or Samaria, not because they didn’t matter but because of Jesus’ heartbreak over the lost sheep of Israel. And he told them: “Without cost you have received; without cost you are to give.” And let’s not forget that many of these first apostles were the very people who abandoned Jesus on Good Friday.

This isn’t to say that Jesus chose his followers poorly, but that he saw something in them that they often didn’t see themselves. He didn’t tell them to give the “lost sheep” whatever they wanted to asked for. He didn’t tell them to give to the point of their own impoverishment. But he did tell them to treat the lost sheep with the same generosity and love they had been given.

And in the end that’s our call: to recognize that we don’t have to “earn” mercy, that there’s no cosmic credit score that determines what we are due. God isn’t generous or merciful because we’ve been successfully able to hide those things about us we’re not proud of. God looks at the light we bring, not the darkness we hide. We are called to look at each other the same way. Too often we look at the shadows to decide that we need to protect ourselves, we think of gossip as fact finding and brag about how we “have the goods” on each other.

But mercy allows us to look at what enlightens us and others, to recognize their gifts and often their best motivations. In my work I occasionally met good people who didn’t see their own beauty and value. And I got to receive their gratitude when I pointed out what I saw. When I was a youth minister to told one of the teenagers that the people who loved her weren’t stupid and that really made a difference.

For all we’ve accomplished since these readings in Exodus and Matthew, we are still camped at the foot of the mountain with slavery in the rear view mirror and the Promised Land ahead of us. And that means every moment is a crossroad where we can fear God’s anger. Or we can read these readings and be empowered by God’s love and mercy.