Because we experience God’s mercy everyday, most of us grow to take it for granted.

The following is an abbreviated version of a story from R.C. Sproul’s book The Holiness of God. While his words are better, I cut some detail to fit my self-imposed word count parameters.

“I had the assignment of teaching a freshman Old Testament course to 250 students at a Christian college. On the first day of class I went over the course assignments carefully. This course required three short papers. I explained . . . that the first paper was due on my desk by noon the last day of September. No extensions would be given except for students who were physically confined to the infirmary or who had deaths in their immediate family.”

“On the last day of September, 225 students dutifully handed in their term papers. Twenty-five students stood, quaking in terror, full of remorse. . . . I bowed to their pleas for mercy. ‘All right,’ I said. ‘I’ll give you a break this time. But, remember, the next assignment is due the last day of October.’”

“The students were profuse in their gratitude and filled the air with solemn promises of being on time for the next assignment. Then came the last day of October. Two hundred students came with their papers. Fifty students came empty-handed. They were nervous but not in panic. When I asked for their papers, again they were contrite. Once more I relented. If you are late for the next paper, it will be an F.”

“[O]n the last day of November . . . one hundred and fifty students came with their term papers. The other hundred strolled into the lecture hall utterly unconcerned. . . . I picked up my lethal black grade book and began taking down names.” [He started marking an F for each student who did not have the paper.]

“The students reacted with unmitigated fury. They howled in protest, screaming, ‘That’s not fair!’”

[Sproul responded,] “I see. It’s justice you want? I seem to recall that you were late with your paper the last time. If you insist on justice, you will certainly get it. I’ll not only give you an F for this assignment, but I’ll change your last grade to the F you so richly deserved.”

“The student was stunned. He had no more arguments to make. He apologized for being so hasty and was suddenly happy to settle for one F instead of two. The student had quickly taken my mercy for granted. They assumed it. When justice suddenly fell, they were unprepared for it. It came as a shock, and they were outraged. This, after only two doses of mercy in the space of two months.

R.C. Sproul, The Holiness of God, 124-26.

Too many of us expect God’s mercy at every turn and protest in the face of justice. We forget that while God is bound by His holiness to maintain justice, He is never obligated to grant mercy. That’s precisely why it’s called mercy.

Take a moment to ponder the ways God has withheld (or is withholding) the F you deserved. And once again appreciate the wonder of God’s mercy.