Mercy & Justice Redux

So on Wednesday, Dr. Mouw gave a chapel address that included a story from Charles Spurgeon. I can't find a link to the sermon online (if anyone knows it, please put a link in the comments), but the gist of it was an imaginary conversation between Mercy & Justice in heaven, watching the life of Christ unfold. At each point in Jesus' life, Mercy asks Justice if it is satisfied, but it is not satisfied until Jesus hangs on the cross. Good ol' substitutionary atonement theory.

But later I was pondering it (it really pissed me off - I turned to my friend and said, "Justice is kind of an asshole") and mentioned it to my internship supervisor, and she said, "Why does everybody always assume that Justice defeats Mercy? Why does Justice always get its way?" And that got me thinking that maybe the story could be rewritten. Also it got me thinking about what we mean by justice, because Mouw went on to explain that we are called to work for justice today, but what he meant in that sense was quite different than the justice in the story which demanded blood sacrifice. I thought about rewriting it so that the justice concept would be consistent, and so that mercy would in fact win in the end.

So here I humbly offer the Liberal Loosey-Goosey Atonement version of the Mercy & Justice story. Enjoy.

Mercy & Justice (an alternative take, with apologies to Charles Spurgeon)

Mercy and Justice were talking together in heaven. They lamented the state of humanity in its rebellion against God. Both desired reconciliation between the two. Justice demanded restitution for the sins of the world. Mercy desired nothing but renewed relationship. When the second person of the Trinity stepped forward to enact the radical plan of salvation for God’s creation, Mercy and Justice were pleased. They anticipated each being satisfied with the results of this risky endeavor.

When Jesus was born as a baby, Mercy and Justice joined the other residents of heaven in rejoicing and marveling. Mercy said to justice, “Look, he is a baby. God has humbled himself beyond all reason. Surely you are satisfied.” Justice replied, “This is not right. His family is poor. No one would take them in. Someone should help them.” Justice was pleased when the wise men showed up with gifts for the marginalized family. But he pointed out to Mercy that God’s incarnation, loving though it may be, did not resolve the problem of human sin. Mercy responded, “What could be more effective than God himself showing people the way to return to him?” Justice simply grunted.

Jesus grew up and began his ministry of teaching and healing. Justice was pleased with the way he reached out to the poor and dispossessed, and Mercy clapped her hands and laughed as Jesus touched another leper. Again, Mercy was satisfied, but Justice was taken aback at the way Jesus would simply forgive sins without any price paid. Mercy explained, “The kingdom of heaven is at hand. Jesus cannot help but radiate God’s love to all. This mercy knows no qualification, no boundaries, and requires nothing of the receiver.” Justice went in the other room to pout.

Before his Passion, Jesus prayed in the garden, sweating drops of blood. Mercy understood. She knew that the power of God would lie in humiliation. She knew that in God’s weakness is God’s strength. Justice was uncomfortable with the position God was placing himself in. God had the upper hand. God was righteous, it was humans who were sinful. So why was Jesus allowing himself to be arrested? To be treated so, well…unjustly? Mercy tried to put it into words, but found them wanting - how to explain the unbelievable love that would endure such suffering?

Instead, she reminded Justice of the way Jesus had behaved on earth, especially his last night with his friends, when he washed their feet. “God did not go to earth to condemn his creation, nor to demand something of them. God simply wanted to be closer to them, and desired their closeness in return.” In looking at what Jesus had done during his time there, Mercy could not but conclude that his goal was to show the world nothing but the purest, truest love, in the hopes that others would follow this way of life.

But instead, the world shrunk from Love, not daring to believe such Mercy was possible. Stuck in the way of Justice, it saw only a weakling who would not stand up for himself at trial. As Jesus hung on the cross, Justice still was not satisfied: “But he did not deserve the death penalty! He was innocent.” Mercy told him to hush, for Jesus was speaking: “Father, forgive them, for they know not what they do.” Mercy smiled, knowing by these words that she had won. In the incredible power of Mercy, Jesus absorbed all the violence and pain and hate that the world could throw at God. Jesus took it into himself…and died.

But it was not over yet. Mercy watched with unfathomable delight as Christ resurrected from the dead. Justice couldn’t believe his eyes – what did this have to do with balancing the scales? It was a neat trick, to be sure, but it wasn’t all that necessary. Oh, no, Mercy exclaimed. When Jesus resurrected, it proved once and for all that death had lost its sting, that love cannot be quenched. It proved that Justice, in the end, was not important –Mercy had the final word. The most Merciful God had proved that no matter what the humans did against him, He would always come back with more love than ever. Unable to argue, Justice acquiesced to the overwhelming power of Mercy.

We like to give Justice the upper hand, to say it must be satisfied. But we have no evidence that God’s Mercy will be or even has been overwhelmed by God’s Holiness or Righteousness or dignity. No story – no act of God – tells us God demands Justice (although words attributed to God do say so). Nothing about Jesus suggests that God cares about his reputation, and Jesus' actions show he cares "more about suffering than sin" (Alexia Salvatierra). All the stories tell us God is forever reaching out with both hands – seeking Adam & Eve in the garden after their rebellion; forgiving his people over and over (despite his better judgment perhaps); choosing to work through the poor, the humble, and the slow; standing as a Father out on the road, every day, hoping against hope that it will be the day the child comes home. And finally, above all, taking into himself all evil so that it could be vanquished. So that he could prove once and for all that it is Mercy, not Justice, that will be satisfied.

Now we live in the Mercy of God for us, and pour out that Mercy on the world. We stand with Justice against the violence and pain and hatred still in the world, but we can stand there humbly and absorb the world’s suffering because we know that in the end this evil has no power. In the end, God will win. Mercy will overpower Justice. Because that is who God is.