We were meeting – for long, long minutes – yesterday talking about building communities, growing relationships and such. We then were talking about the Book of Esther, and at one point the instructor told us that sometimes when they come together, justice must outweigh mercy.
I’ve pondered that ever since.
And I’m not convinced of that yet.
From that point I began listening for one thing and one thing only. I listened for one name, the name above all names, the name that means everything for me. We began at 9 a.m. It took until 3:58 p.m. We talked about justice in the Book of Esther, and certainly the Jews who were about to be killed in the book needed justice – instant justice – or they would’t make it. We talked about relationships with others so that we would be able to create community.
I must admit, at the risk of being called out, that all I could think of was those scriptures that say things like the one in Deuteronomy. ““And now, Israel, what does the Lord your God require of you, but to fear the Lord your God, to walk in all his ways, to love him, to serve the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul, and to keep the commandments and statutes of the Lord, which I am commanding you today for your good?”
Or the one in Micah that says, “What does The Lord require of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God?:
Now, on the surface, telling us that we might have to choose justice over mercy in some situations doesn’t sound as if it would harm anyone. Who doesn’t want their lot in life, most often not of our choosing and not of our own capabilities as in those in poverty did not choose to be in poverty and do not now choose to be in poverty, to be different? Therefore, they indeed would choose to have us pick justice over mercy.
But my problem is not with systems that keep people down, like government and such. No, my problem is deeper, particularly on a spiritual level.
No, my problem is that we never mentioned that person that I believe pulls people out of emotional and spiritual poverty, the only one who does. See, there is – to me – more than socio-economic poverty, and that is what I did not address.
I get the plight of the immigrant, and the Bible addresses that in some fashion.
I understand the plight of the homeless, and millions of churches address that problem daily.
I understand not wanting to push one’s “religion” on anyone, and I don’t see myself (or at least I used to) as a religious person.
But what I don’t’ understand is how we can neglect telling someone about the wonderful, saving, mercy-filled, grace-covered person we know Jesus of Nazareth to be.
In other words, we can clothe them, whoever them is, and feed them, and treat them physically, but unless we figure out a way to offer them salvation in a way that does not push them away in the same breath, we have in my judgment failed.
I read once that Muhammed Ali said he became a Muslim because slaves were screaming for Jesus to save them as ropes were put around their necks. He said that he couldn’t believe in someone who would allow that.
I understand that. I get it’s hard to understand when there are great tragedies in our lives and we scream into a dull and unlistening sky a hearty and painful ‘why.’
But I also understand that Ali couldn’t have understood what the word “save” truly means or he wouldn’t have turned a blind heart to Jesus.
Simply put, we cannot, cannot suppress mercy while offering justice anymore than we can rid ourselves of sin by working harder at it.
Mercy to someone oppressed is justice, isn’t it
The fact is, as hard and harsh as this is to understand sometimes because of our situations and circumstances, justice is often the last thing we truly want or need.
I don’t worship a “just” God, for if he dispensed justice to me, giving me what I deserve, I would be quite literally in a “hell” of a fix.
No, no, no.
Give me mercy every single time.
Even if I never earned it.
1 comment:
Me, too, Billy. Me too.
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