“Let not mercy and truth forsake you; bind them around your neck, write them on the tablet of your heart” (v. 3). Solomon speaks here of virtues that refuse to be occasional. Mercy (chesed, חֶסֶד) and truth (emeh, אְֶמֶה) are not situational responses but lifelong companions, attributes drawn from the very life of God and meant to shape the life of His people. They’re to be worn, not hidden, like a pendant resting near the pulse, visible in the ordinary movements of life and cherished close to the heart. Yet Solomon presses further. These gifts aren’t to be merely displayed but inscribed within. Written upon the heart, they become instinctive, guiding response before calculation, forming character at its core. Mercy without truth dissolves into vain sentimentality; truth without mercy calcifies into cruelty. Together, they mirror the harmony found in God Himself.
This Wisdom resists performative virtue. Solomon isn’t calling for curated goodness but for inward formation. Mercy learns to slow the hand before judgement; truth steadies the tongue before speech. Such formation produces a life marked by patience toward the failures of others and integrity in one’s own dealings. The promise that follows is understated and profound: “And so find favor and high esteem in the sight of God and man” (v. 4). This isn’t the applause of the crowd or the volatility of reputation, but the settled respect that grows around a life shaped by consistency and grace. Where mercy and truth govern, dignity follows, even when the road is uneven and the journey demanding.
These verses find their fullest expression in Christ, the incarnate wisdom of God, “full of grace and truth” (John 1:14). In Him, mercy doesn’t dilute truth, and truth never abandons love. They meet and are made one in Him. He bore no ornament of gold, yet carried a cross, and through that burden He has clothed us with favor before God. When Pilate asked, “What is truth?” (John 18:38), the answer stood before him in flesh and blood. Christ Himself is the truth, and by His Spirit that truth is now written upon our hearts. As those whom He has redeemed, we are drawn into His likeness—not flawlessly, but faithfully—learning to show mercy where it’s undeserved and to speak truth shaped by love (Ephesians 4:15).
Therefore, bind mercy and truth to yourself, not as decoration, but as devotion—as zeal for the Lord. Let them shape what you say and how you act. Let kindness temper conviction and truth steady compassion. In this way, favor isn’t chased but received, flowing from a life that abides in Christ, who is for you the fullness of mercy and truth, now and always.
The Lutheran Column 