The Weight of Justice

Reading this post on a blog I frequent, I stumbled into a consideration of justice.

If violence is the weight of justice, who can bear it?

When King David writes 'There is no one righteous- no not one,' he speaks of our righteousness before God. Our attempts fall woefully short. But we need not be condemned by the law of God, for the law written in our own hearts condemns us before He begins to speak. We contemplate rear-ending the Jetta that 'cuts us off' in the morning commute, but are indignant when we are given the finger for 'changing lanes too quickly' on our way home. We plot against the roommate who leaves his dishes in the sink, but drop our socks in the living room and forget about them.  For weeks.

Oh, we exult in the crushing of others' insolence, delight to see others 'put in their place'. Tell me friend, which place is that? And which place is yours?  How we delight both in their fall and in our comparative lift! How we love to see justice meted out, how it leaves us feeling superior! But were we to discover our hearts placed on the grand scale with which we weigh others, the weight of justice would be less delightful. It would be devastating. All our hearts would be crushed, tossed from their desks for their insolence and self-righteous hypocrisy.

We cannot pretend that insolence is innocence, for they are different things entirely. Neither, though, can we condemn it and walk free ourselves. If stones are to be thrown, we must stand with the insolent at the bottom of the hill awaiting the falling rock which we ourselves have demanded. Their place, and ours, are the same.

I believe that in the end the only Innocent One will cast the first stone, and the second. And I doubt that He will stop; there is enough insolence in my heart alone to warrant all the granite of the Appalachians. Unless we take shelter in a body already bruised, we will bear the bruising of justice ourselves. The weight of justice that we heap so quickly on others will be doubled and returned upon us- not because they deserve less, but because we deserve incomparably more. What iniquity we with fallen eyes can see in them pales before the Pharisaism of our hearts. We are shipwrights condemning each chip on any shoulder, ignoring the logs we carry from birth til death.

We must find a way to reconcile the demand for justice with our failure to live up to it. And we must find a compelling reason to show mercy when it is unwarranted, grace when it is undeserved. For there is no other kind of mercy, and no other kind of grace, and no other kind of hope for our world- certainly no other hope for ourselves.

Hebrews 12: Holiness Maintained

"For you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire and darkness and gloom and a tempest and the sound of a trumpet and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that no further messages be spoken to them. For they could not endure the order that was given, “If even a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned.” Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.” But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel."  Hebrews 12.18-24

But even as we declare that we have come to a better mountain, we must be careful how we view the old.

This is what I mean. This passage opens with a depiction of the holy, dreadful Mount Sinai, in fire and darkness. This is the image of justice and wrath, righteousness and punishment, all according to the law given Moses there. This passage ends with a depiction of Mount Zion, the new Jerusalem. Here we find images of mercy, and peace, and reconciliation, and forgiveness, all according to the forgiveness of Christ.

Our temptation, then, is to believe these mountains to be mutually exclusive. The first has passed, that the second may come to be. Yet Jesus, speaking of the law, tells us that he came not to abolish the law but to fulfill it.

You see, as verse 23 reminds us, God remains the judge. His holiness is maintained. The God of the old mountain is not a half-way revelation of the God we discover in the new. God's holiness, and therefore his judgment and wrath, is not a primitive view of God now superseded by Christ. It is an accurate view of God then and now. He remains utterly holy, pure, and opposed to sin, utterly demanding of perfection. God must be so holy, so opposed to sin, and injustice, and evil, for otherwise he would not be God, nor would he be loving. It is in his holy hatred of sin, injustice and evil that we see how loving our God is- without hating these things, God could only ever be less than loving. Perfection must be required,

God's holiness, and therefor his justice, is maintained. And yet He is also loving. The difference between these two mountains is not the nature of God's judgment, but how that judgment is applied. For in the old, man was left unsure of his end. What would come of his unrighteousness? Could any sacrifice truly ransom a man from his ways?

But in the new mountain we discover that the spirit of the righteous [are] made perfect. Perfection is still required- but now we discover how it is achieved. It is given. And this is the essence of the new mountain. Not a lessening of God's holy wrath- not a lessening of God's demand for justice- but a full satisfaction of God's wrath in Christ, and the gift of perfection to us by the same. God's holiness is maintained, yet we are changed, by the word of Jesus Christ.

If a woman walks into a fantastic party wearing muddy sweatpants, the experience of that party will be entirely different than if she enters the party wearing a smart new dress. Has the party changed? No. But she has been changed; the same party which caused shame and embarrassment now fills her with joy and excitement.  The same power of that occasion, once crushing the woman beneath its weight, now exalts her. Or imagine a boy in the waves. Alone, the force of the waves pose a great threat to him. But with a board beneath him, that same threatening force is simultaneously a power unto exhilaration.

The Lord of the old covenant is no different than the Lord of the new. He has not changed- but we have changed before him. His all-consuming holiness neither shifts nor gives way; instead, we have been changed. In Christ the fire that once annihilated us now warms us unto new life. As we learned last week, the blood that once condemned us now cries out for our salvation. The holiness which excluded us from any proximity to God now envelops us in His wonder. His holiness is maintained, it is our condemnation that is transformed into communion by the working of an external force upon our lives and hearts. This is the gospel, the good news: not that God has changed Himself so as to welcome the unrighteous, but that He has changed the unrighteous so as to welcome them to Himself. He has not changed, but we have, and that is very good news.

Hebrews 12: A Better Word

"For you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire and darkness and gloom and a tempest and the sound of a trumpet and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that no further messages be spoken to them. For they could not endure the order that was given, “If even a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned.” Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.” But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel."  Hebrews 12.18-24

The difference between Mount Sinai and Mount Zion was elaborated in the last post, but I was so intrigued by this section's final comparison I felt it warranted its own post: Jesus's blood speaks a better word than the blood of Abel.

Abel was the brother of Cain, the first children born to humankind in scripture. Cain and Abel are raised by their parents to worship the creator God, and they do so by offering sacrifices to him, Cain from the field and Abel from the flock. For reasons we are not told, the Lord 'regards' Abel's sacrifice of a firstborn lamb but not Cain's grain offering. Cain is infuriated, and though the Lord counsels him to beware his anger, Cain invites his brother into the field and kills him. Abel's blood mingles with the soil of the field, is swallowed in the furrows of Cain's plow.

God comes to Cain, 'Where is your brother Abel?' 'Am I my brother's keeper?' Cain replies. But God is not fooled. He responds.

"What have you done? The voice of your brother's blood is crying to me from the ground. And now you are cursed from the ground, which has opened its mouth to receive your brother's blood from your hand." Genesis 4.10-11

Justice falls on Cain. For his sin he is cursed, rejected by the earth and by the rest of humankind. The blood of his brother cries for justice, for punishment. Abel's blood speaks the word of condemnation for murder, as the earth bears witness to creation's first fratricide. It would not be the last it sees.

For another brother is to be killed. Another man who brings a perfect and acceptable sacrifice is to be murdered by those whose offerings fall woefully short. This newly shed blood will again cry out from the ground.

But what will it cry? What word will it speak? It will speak a better word than that of Abel. For this murdered brother dies not demanding justice but to fulfill it. He does not die crying, 'Father, punish them!' but instead, 'Father, forgive them!' The blood of Jesus speaks a better word than the blood of Abel, for while Abel's blood cries for justice, Jesus cries 'It is finished! Justice has been paid, your condemnation born.' Mystery of grace, the murderer is made acceptable by the very death he causes.

It was the offering of a lamb that rendered Abel acceptable- it was this sacrifice that quickened Cain's pride and jealousy. Yet by the offering of Jesus, the Greater Lamb, both Abel and Cain are made acceptable. The blood of the messiah speaks a better word indeed.

Hebrews 12: But You Have Come

"For you have not come to what may be touched, a blazing fire and darkness and gloom and a tempest and the sound of a trumpet and a voice whose words made the hearers beg that no further messages be spoken to them. For they could not endure the order that was given, “If even a beast touches the mountain, it shall be stoned.” Indeed, so terrifying was the sight that Moses said, “I tremble with fear.” But you have come to Mount Zion and to the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant, and to the sprinkled blood that speaks a better word than the blood of Abel."  Hebrews 12.18-24

Reading through Hebrews, I struggled to understand this passage. The writer tells us that we have not come to 'what may be touched', and then lists a few examples: fire, darkness, gloom, a tempest, a trumpet blast, a voice. None of these seem tangible at all.

Then he goes on to describe their fruit: begging for silence, fear and trembling. Why? Because this holiness is wrapped in judgment. The mountain of God is so pure as to be un-touchable. It is tangible, but to touch it is death. The holiness of God is so great as to bar our approach- everything is condemned in the light of His holiness.

But the writer of Hebrews offers good news. He writes, "But you have come to Mount Zion, the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, and to innumerable angels in festal gathering, and to the assembly of the firstborn who are enrolled in heaven, and to God, the judge of all, and to the spirits of the righteous made perfect, and to Jesus, the mediator of a new covenant..."

In both cases, God's people approach Him on a mountain- but there the likeness ends. The first is Mount Sinai, the place what Moses receives the law, where God is hidden in fire and smoke and thunderings. But the second is Mount Zion, the mountain of Jerusalem, where God has made a home with His people. One is the harsh mountain which man must ascend to appease God, a mountain which condemns with every climbing step and which leaves the worshipper begging for the silence of God. But the other is the green mountain of Jerusalem on which God's presence rests in joy and celebration, the mountain of feasting to which God invites His people. Where we once came intending to prove ourselves, now we come 'made perfect'. The old covenant has passed away- the new has begun.

Yet even Mount Zion is but a shadow. All these things are dull images, hollow representations, empty symbols. This tangible mountain is but a sign unto the heavenly mountain of God. Jerusalem is a poor copy of the city of God in heaven. While Jerusalem will fall, the true Jerusalem never will. And this is the mountain to which we have come- not the mountain of proving ourselves by fulfilling the law, not even the mountain of God's mediated presence here. We have come to His true presence, to His Son Jesus, and this is a mountain, a city, that will never be changed.

In fact, the spiritual reality in which we now participate is more real than the physical reality we once participated in. The new covenant, the new promise of God is more wondrous, more amazing, more glorious than anything we have known before. This was all a representation, a shadow of the form that cast it. We have entered greater security, greater truth than the law. We have come to a greater mountain.

A Poem for Reason

Oh sing the revolution song!
Oh count the stars to right what's wrong
and everyone will sing along-
yes, all will come to know.

Napoleon, he told us so,
then captured all the world below
to bind and loose as need did show-
let reason rule the dumb!

Oh sing the revolution come
and gone, before the hearts of some
could rest in reason's chiseled home,
forever in the mind.

Yet, hearts eternity must find,
for such is space and such is time,
bound and in themselves enshrined-
to question rule above.

The sound of war! The sound of love!
The beating of the wing-ed dove!
The same, the drums once whispered of,
come perilously near.

Reason, reason- listen! Hear
the song for which you have no ears.
Hear justice, beauty, joy! and fear-
for Love has come for you.

Would color prove His love for you?
Would beauty, shed in red and blue?
With blood and water, weapons drew
the signs of sacred suns.

And when eternity did run
down waist and wood, the race was won.
Of Rachel's tears, were wasted none
for they did wash her clean.

Oh tell me now, what could this mean-
that light and love remain between
the measurements of all you've seen,
and to them you belong?

Oh sing the revolution song!
Rejoice, for justice proves you wrong;
repent, for beauty comes along,
and joy, that you may know.