“Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.” (Matthew 5:7)
How old were you when you started watching courtroom TV? For me, it started with The People’s Court (1981). Can you hear the bass intro followed by the repetitive pop of the snare drum?
“BOW-dowww… BOWN’t!” (Pause) “Duh-da-DOW-duh-duh!”
Classic. No nonsense. Justice.
Fast forward to the 2020s, and I started seeing clips of Judge Frank Caprio.
Caprio served 38 years on the bench, most famously as chief judge of the municipal court in Providence, Rhode Island. Known from the show Caught in Providence, Caprio became famous not for his sternness but for his mercy. He spoke to defendants like people. He listened. What made him beloved was his belief that justice is best served when paired with understanding and mercy.
But that wasn’t always his instinct.
In one of his viral videos, Caprio shared the story of his very first case—a woman with $300 in unpaid parking tickets. She told him she couldn’t pay. He offered a payment plan. She said even that wouldn’t work. Young Caprio ruled against her.
“Either pay the $300,” he said, “or your car will be booted.”
His father—“maybe the most decent man I ever met in my life,” Caprio said—was there to watch. After court, Caprio asked, “Dad, how’d I do?”
His father replied, “Frank, that woman… You fined her. She was scared. You should’ve talked to her. You can’t treat people like that.”
Caprio, in his 80s, was still visibly upset to tears by the memory. His father’s rebuke changed how he judged from that day forward.
The first four Beatitudes speak to attitudes of heart: poverty of spirit, mourning, meekness, hunger for righteousness. But in the fifth, that internal posture becomes external action. “Blessed are the merciful”—not merely those who feel compassion, but those who move with it toward others.
Trolling and Review Bombing
We all have it in us—the urge to troll, to clap back, to leave a brutal one-star review just because we can. Sometimes it’s not about justice; it’s about enjoying the power. Like this scorcher from Delia, reviewing Where the Crawdads Sing:
⭐☆☆☆☆ “Like being trapped in a slow, humid death.”
“This book is a mosquito bite on the ankle of literature. The plot is molasses-slow, the characters are flatter than a Florida swamp, and the writing reads like a middle schooler trying to sound poetic after watching one too many National Geographic documentaries.”
That’s vitriolic. (Yes, I looked that word up.) Delia’s own creativity reveals that she’s enjoying her criticism. And her sentiments speak for us all—we love letting someone have it.
More to the point, we love the power of retaliation. When someone close to us hurts us, part of us takes pleasure in watching them squirm. Vindictiveness is a dangerous power.
But Jesus says the truly blessed are not those who retaliate, but those who restrain—who show compassion instead of vengeance.
The Merciful Judge
No one has more power over us than Jesus. He was perfect. Blameless. All-knowing. And yet, Jesus shows us the true purpose of power: mercy.
“Though he was rich, yet for your sake he became poor, so that you by his poverty might become rich.” (2 Corinthians 8:9)
Mercy is not weakness; it’s the willingness to absorb wrong for the sake of love and redemption. The Judge steps down from the bench, takes the sentence upon Himself, and welcomes the guilty into grace.
From Eden to Calvary, from Genesis to Revelation, God has revealed Himself as “merciful and gracious, slow to anger, abounding in steadfast love” (Exodus 34:6). And now, Jesus calls His people to mirror His mercy in a broken world.
Toward the end of his career, Judge Caprio faced another case: a young woman named Medina, whose car had been booted. She was living in that car, eating one meal a day, trying to rebuild her life after surviving stalking and homelessness.
Caprio listened. Then he gently shifted the focus:
“You need help, and I’m going to make sure you get it.”
He dismissed the $400 fine. $300 was covered by the court’s Filomena Fund. The remaining $100 would be waived if her situation didn’t improve. He even arranged $50 in cash so she could eat that day.
“There are places that will help you get back on your feet,” he said. “You just need to take that first step.”
Caprio showed what we all long to believe: that justice can be merciful.
The Gospel’s Call to the Merciful Life
You poor, you mourners, you meek, you hungry-for-righteousness—mercy is now your calling, because mercy has found you.
To be merciful is not to forget justice, but to remember the grace shown to you. It is the posture of one who sees the needs of others through the eyes of Christ.
The merciful see misery and move toward it.
The merciful know their debt and release others from theirs.
The merciful bear the wounds of the world and do not repay evil for evil.
Mercy is not a strategy. It is the shape of Christ in us. “Blessed are the merciful, for they shall receive mercy.”
This is not a transaction; it is a transformation. Those who have truly received mercy become merciful. And those who are merciful will meet mercy again—on the day they most need it.
So walk in His mercy, and the mercy of Christ will meet you. He promises.
Pray with us:
Lord Jesus, we confess that we have loved power more than mercy. We’ve held grudges, enjoyed retaliation, and withheld compassion. But You, full of mercy, forgave us. You became poor so that we might be rich in grace. Make us merciful as You are merciful. Teach us to use our strength to bless, not to harm. Amen.
Thanks for praying! God bless you. We’ll read and pray again next Saturday at 8:30 a.m.
"Mercy is not weakness; it’s the willingness to absorb wrong for the sake of love and redemption. The Judge steps down from the bench, takes the sentence upon Himself, and welcomes the guilty into grace." Love this so much.