How Do We Respond to Injustice?

Psalms 28:3-6

Do not drag me off with the wicked,
with the workers of evil,
who speak peace with their neighbors
while evil is in their hearts.
Give to them according to their work
and according to the evil of their deeds;
give to them according to the work of their hands;
render them their due reward.
Because they do not regard the works of the Lord
or the work of his hands,
he will tear them down and build them up no more.

Blessed be the Lord !
For he has heard the voice of my pleas for mercy.

...............

On Friday, December 14, 2012, at 9:30am, a 20-year-old man ended the lives of 20 schoolchildren and 6 adults at Sandy Hook Elementary in Newtown, CT. The public response was immediate and emotionally charged. Parents wept for their lost children, while others across the country held their children a little longer before bedtime, imagining how painful it would be to lose those we hold most dear. The innate sense of justice we all feel was stirred to the point of brimming over. We were reminded that evil is still real, and we could not suppress the instinctual craving for justice in the aftermath of wicked deeds like these.

In Psalm 28, we get an interesting balance in the mind of the believer: the twofold truth that we are both desperately in need of God's forgiveness, and desperately ready for God to punish others who act wickedly. We want the final judgment to come, and for all things to be made right. But we know we belong in the lake of fire ourselves, so we cry out for mercy, utterly dependent on God's grace to spare us from our just penalty.

Really, humility and justice must hang together in the Christian's life, for one cannot exist without the other - at least, not in any authentic way. For example, our thirst for punishment against mass murderers would surely disappear if we lost our ability to humbly identify with the fragile dependency of our dear children. Our sympathy toward these little ones corresponds to our fierce opposition to any force that would spoil their delicate lives. Here's how Jesus embodied this balance:

"Whoever causes one of these little ones who believe in me to sin, it would be better for him if a great millstone were hung around his neck and he were thrown into the sea." (Mark 9:42)

Likewise, a lack of justice will always coincide with a lack of humility, and vice versa. For example, if I did not care deeply for the weak and vulnerable child, I would not have the deadly serious mind of Christ toward any threat to their safety. In fact, it is safe to say that God's justice is an extension of his humility. No one feels the wickedness and gravity of sin more than Him who has known the fullest depths of humility. This humility is what has led to God's wrath being satisfied on our behalf - at the cross, there is simultaneously justice for sin, and justification for the sinner. As Paul said:

"For all have sinned and fall short of the glory of God, and are justified by his grace as a gift, through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus, It was to show his righteousness at the present time, so that he might be just and the justifier of the one who has faith in Jesus." (Romans 3:23, 24, 26)

Our humility must also be defined by a deference to the supremacy of God in all things. The psalmist here considers the wicked man's greatest crime to be that he disregarded the works of the Lord (28:5). To have a vision and passion for God's glory is to be both truly humble and also highly sensitive to how sin perverts and distorts God's glorious love and holiness.

This is the gospel-balance that helps us respond to the Newtown massacre in the way that God does - with deadly seriousness and the just fires of hell, motivated by a humble love and longing for the protection of innocence and the glory of God. I pray I can walk in the light of the cross of Christ, which speaks mercy to me while simultaneously paying for my crimes against God and man. I pray I can walk like Micah:

"He has told you, O man, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?"
(Micah 6:8)

Damned if you do...

Luke 7:31-35

To what then shall I compare the people of this generation, and what are they like?  They are like children sitting in the marketplace and calling to one another, 

"We played the flute for you, and you did not dance;
we sang a dirge, and you did not weep."

For John the Baptist has come eating no bread and drinking no wine, and you say, 'He has a demon.'  The Son of Man has come eating and drinking, and you say, 'Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!'  Yet wisdom is justified by all her children.

...............

The healings of the centurion's servant and the widow's son are amazing stories in and of themselves. But Luke also uses them to introduce John's question about who this Jesus really is. Likewise, the concluding account of the immoral woman interrupting the pharisee party is a bookend example of Jesus as the "friend of sinners," a title he  took from the pharisees' misplaced accusations.

In the center of this action is the cryptic little saying quoted above, where I will now turn my attention - "we played the flute for you, and you did not dance; we sang a dirge, and you did not weep." What does this mean?

Jesus uses this phrase as a way to define the generation of people before him, but this could just as easily refer to our modern era and the elemental nature of our fallen humanity. Jesus goes on to rephrase and clarify his own words - "For John the Baptist has come eating no bread and drinking no wine, and you say, 'He has a demon.'; The Son of Man has come eating and drinking, and you say, 'Look at him! A glutton and a drunkard, a friend of tax collectors and sinners!'; Yet wisdom is justified by all her children."

In other words, you hate and condemn those who live for God, whether they are ascetics like John, or free to enjoy food and drink like Jesus was during his ministry. The Pharisees were so blinded by their judgmentalism that they could condemn two men of opposite offenses without batting an eye. They were so fixed on the external trappings of religiosity that they could not see the glorious fruit of God's wisdom staring them in the face.

How do we see this happening today? In our culture of tolerance we do not always see clear examples of overt judgment like this. What we do experience on a regular basis are the silent accusations of our Enemy howling against us in often contradictory ways. In the church, we imagine our dear brothers and sisters condemning us for being either too strict or too lenient as parents. In the world, we imagine our non-believing friends either offended by our God-talk or perhaps condemning us in an imaginary hell because we did not say or do enough to bring them to Jesus. In our own minds, we are "damned if you do, or damned if you don't."

These are the illogical accusations we face from day to day. But it is the simple truth of the gospel that can quickly set us free from these earthly fears. Romans 8 tells us: "There is therefore now no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus." If we truly believe this, then we know we have been forever declared "not guilty" by the only Judge who will ever really matter. He is our hope and confidence now. In him we can stand assured. Our faith will be proved genuine, not by the petty judgments of our Enemy, but rather by the Son who took our judgment upon Himself: a wisdom that is truly justified by her children.