FAD | the mercy seat

mer⋅cy seat [mur-see seet]
–noun
1. The gold covering on the Ark of the Covenant, regarded as the resting place of God.
2. The Mercy Seat or ‘Penitent Form’ is a bench provided as a place where people can kneel to pray, seek salvation or sanctification, or make a special consecration to God’s will and service.

The Mercy Seat is a place where souls are won, commitments are made, new life is claimed and mission is fueled. It can be manifested in many ways; as an altar in a church or a drum in a park.  Its purpose is always the same.  It is there to remind us and give us a place to respond to God’s reconciling and redeeming presence.

As a child growing up at my corps I thought it was quite natural to kneel at the Mercy Seat and talk with God.  I can remember the excitement I felt when I prayed at the altar (another name for the Mercy Seat).  My heart raced; I could hardly catch my breath as I walked back to my seat after praying at that sacred place.  I can’t remember what I prayed in those early memories but I know that afterwards I felt good.  I felt better.

As I grew older I began to realize that people prayed at the Mercy Seat because they wanted something to happen.  They were compelled to apologize, to sacrifice, to grow, to commit.  I remember seeing one retired officer kneel there each Sunday, as he knelt on one knee and put his hand on the Holiness Table.  He seemed desperate for something (I thought he was crazy).

When I was a child I was comfortable at the Mercy Seat but when I grew older—and came to a realization of my sins—I began to pity others who went forward to pray.  And so I sat in my pew with my other adolescent friends, hands folded and head bowed, peeking at the sinners who knelt at the penitent form.  I judged them and in doing so, avoided judging myself.

However, as a teenager there were many times when I was so moved by the Holy Spirit that I was compelled to bring my convictions to the Mercy Seat.  I often cried and prayed with friends and hoped that I would be free from whatever was ruling me at the time.  I was earnest in my faith and knew that God was giving me a space and opportunity to be honest and vulnerable.  And that space was often found between the platform and the first pew – at the Mercy Seat.

I want to be a part of a Salvation Army that believes in the Mercy Seat.  I want to fight in an Army that aches with urgency to win the world for Jesus; an Army whose soldiers know the beauty of humbling themselves before God, who get their knees dirty and have clean souls.  I want to be the kind of soldier who is desperate for sanctification and who pursues holiness.

Writer: FAD - Future Army Dictionary is written by Eric Himes, the USA Central Territory’s Director of Young Adult Ministries who is passionate about encouraging leaders to use their unique gifts in God’s Kingdom.  He is a member of a worship band called The Singing Company and is enthusiastic about providing resources and training for corps worship bands.  He spends his time obsessing about the Chicago Cubs, Lost, Dodgeball, Baggo, Praise and Worship, creative writing, youth ministry and the future of The Salvation Army.  Eric and his wife Cathleen live in Oak Park, Illinois with their cat Salinger (pictured).  They attend the Oakbrook Terrace Corps, where he leads a Dodgeball youth outreach and community garden.

8 Comments to FAD | the mercy seat

1. Eric: My heart, too, aches with longing to stoke the embers of fire found at the Mercy Seat. The wonderful news is that God hears the faintest whisper of our hearts, and He responds!

   How I pray for God to continue His mighty soul-communion with us, whether our need is forgiveness, Holy Spirit power to live a holy life, reassurance, comfort, commitment, or communion with Him.
Jim Irvine on October 30th, 2008

2. The Mercy Seat used to be the central focus of Army Salvation meetings, which is interesting because it directed everything towards an acknowledgement of the presence and activity of God in our midst, and the missional focus of seeing sinners saved. (Other denominations might have the sacraments or the preaching as the central focus, which could of course fulfill the same role.)

   What is the focus of our gatherings now? If it is not the mercy seat, then what? What is reminding us of the imminent presence of God and drawing us into union with Him?

   Is it the preaching? That has not been my experience, but perhaps in some places we have gifted preachers who are gifted in bringing people before the throne.

   Is it our worship bands? Again, maybe in some places, but probably not across the board.

   It just strikes me - and maybe I’m wrong - that we have not really done much thinking around how we intentionally acknowledge and encounter the living God when we gather. I certainly do believe that God’s presence is not restricted to meeting times, but if we are to gather, I suspect it should be for more than just instruction, fellowship and singing (as good and important as those things are).

   Should not a main purpose of our meeting times be to recognise the presence of the LORD? This does not need to look the same everywhere, it does not need to be accompanied by signs, wonders or tongues, it does not need to be in high, holy ritual, but I think it does need to be foremost in our minds. The mercy seat is part of our heritage, and did in great part fulfill that purpose. I would love to see it used more, and not just at the end of the service as well.

   Grace,

   Aaron
aaron on October 30th, 2008

3. It is actually a little sad that in these times children are not present in meetings where the call to the mercy seat happens they are ushered out to their own programs and I am not sure how many actually get to witness and more importantly experience the act of kneeling at the mercy seat. Will be end up with a generation of young people who are better or worse off because of this.
glenda on October 30th, 2008

4. I fear that we have exchanged and crammed our Army services for years with the mediocre to fill the void of the dynamic presence of God in our meetings. Just look at where junk food Christianity has got us! As a Corps officer in the past, I had the hard choice of cutting most of the fat out of our Sunday meetings – away with most of the singing, announcements, and special music in order to refocus on the substance of our gathering – Prayer & the Word.

   It was painfully obvious at first, to our Corps, that we had drifted way too far from what made the Army the Army. Historically people came TO the Army to get the blessing – now most of my fellow Salvationists (Officers included) GO to other churches and conferences to “get” the blessing!

   The Mercy Seat wasn’t the focus of the meetings inherited from our revivalist traditions; it was the source of our power. A place of power not weakness – as we experienced the waterfall of grace freely available. I fear that too often in my life and those of my friends we live in the shadow of the mist of the waterfall of grace and tragically convince ourselves that this is all there is! I want to get into the waterfall, be overwhelmed by God’s grace in my life and in the church and no longer settle for the legacy that has been handed down.

   There is more, I’ve caught glimpses and want to live in that place. I just got back from Brengle (got to sneak in as a French translator) and it became extremely clear as we looked back in history that those words of the Apostle John ring out to us as well “Remember the height from which you have fallen! Repent and do the things you did at first.”

   God wants His Army back! Back in His presence, back on our knees, back on the streets. It’s time to trim the fat
Jean-Curtis Cartmell on October 31st, 2008

5. It is interesting that after having done away with the ‘traditional’ sacraments, people still crave for something to fill their place, some central ‘core’ of their gathering together.

   I guess the general SA consensus is that the mercy seat is to be a focal sacramental point (don’t be afraid of using the ’s’ word by the way, even though it has become a swear word to some), a central place of where the veil seems to thin between heaven and earth.

   If this is the case then TSA needs to continue to question, rethink, re-sketch what it believes the bigger issues of ‘worship’ (especially corporate worship entail). I fear we are still left in a woolly, half-place of thinking that we think we know why we gather (traditionally) on a Sunday, but are haven’t completely got our muddled heads around it.
Craig Gaudion on October 31st, 2008

6. Eric, you know that I have a hard time when people assume someone is at the Mercy Seat because something’s wrong. I really believe the proper reaction should be, “I HAVEN’T seen you at the Mercy Seat in a while, is everything okay?”

   That being said, I haven’t been to the Mercy Seat in a while, and this has been a great reminder to me this morning. My knees are looking far too clean. Thanks for sharing your passion.
Jonathan Taube on October 31st, 2008

7. I recall General Jarl Wahlström sharing a story of his visit to India where he conducted councils. In the mist of the morning heat in the outdoor meeting ” I thought I saw two ghost dressed in white walking down the aisle. As they came closer I realized that they were SA officers in their saris… I knelt along with others around them. They were quickly back on their feet and shared; ‘We came just to say thank you, Jesus!’ ”

   At times it can also be, in the words of the SA song, a ‘hiding place’. I found it to be just that in the days immediately following my stroke; my Mercy Seat was a hospital bed pillow.

   In the words of General Bram Tillsley, “it’s a place of grace, not a place of disgrace.”

   I trust all are familiar with Major Nigel Bovey’s book; The Mercy Seat. I saw him briefly this morning at the corps on his visit to Exeter. A sequel is in the works.

   Blessings, Sven
Sven Ljungholm on November 2nd, 2008

8. Hi

   Eric, thanks for this. I have a strong memory of kneeling at the mercy seat when I was about seven. It was at a divisional event for Junior Soldiers - a traditional Army meeting - no fun or games (that I remember).

   I’m not sure why I went forward - I just remember the pounding heart as I struggled to find the courage to leave my seat.

   I also remember the strangest feeling afterward. A feeling didn’t understand and, at the time, probably couldn’t describe. It felt just like I was about to burst into tears - but that didn’t make sense - I was happy!

   Aaron said - Should not a main purpose of our meeting times be to recognise the presence of the LORD?

   In my Church (UK Corps) we currently have times of sung worship where it seams to me (and others) that there’s a clear corporate recognition of God’s presence.

   We also have a variety of ways to respond other than kneeling on the red carpet - collecting token objects, bringing something forward, lighting candles, signing our names … and so on. On these occasions more people respond than would generally kneel at the front.

   But I am sad that we can go for weeks when no one kneels at the mercy seat.

   I wonder if it’s because, as Johnathan suggests, people assume kneeling there means something is wrong. And of course if something is wrong, it’s hard to respond because everyone will know! Where did the idea come from that we should keep our failures and struggles to ourselves?

   Several years ago the mercy seat was hardly used - I suspect because people didn’t want to be associated with one lady who would come forward most weeks provoking a mixture of irritation an humour. I wonder if this ‘memory’ is still hanging over us - even tho a large proportion of us were not around at the time.

   I love to be in an Army meeting when there is an obvious response to God. Does it matter that the response is to pick up a stone from the mercy seat but not to kneel there and pray? I’m not sure - I’m still thinking this one through.
Heather on November 4th, 2008

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