Grace to Justify, Grace to Condemn, Grace to Fight

Scripture
(Proverbs 17:15) He who justifies the wicked and he who condemns the righteous are both alike—an abomination to the Lord.


Observation
To the Hebrew whose thoughts and life were structured by God’s ancient words, the idea presented in this proverb would have sounded familiar:

You shall not pervert the justice due to your poor in his lawsuit. Keep far from a false charge, and do not kill the innocent and the righteous, for I will not acquit the wicked. And you shall take no bribe, for the bribe blinds the clear-sighted and subverts the cause of those who are in the right. You shall not oppress a sojourner. You know the heart of a sojourner, for you were sojourners in the land of Egypt (Exodus 23:6-9).

Bribery—a secret, willful perversion of justice. It’s probably much more common than the cliched secret exchange of cash. Hmmm … is the briber or the bribee supposed to wink? Wouldn’t it better to avoid eye contact altogether? And how safe is a bribe without a written contract? What if you disguise it as a fair and public exchange? (Why does congress come to mind right now?)


This proverb is a quietly strong challenge. We all have the unfortunate tendency to deform justice so it serves our personal comfort and convenience. If I challenge you for doing wrong, then I risk losing the benefits of our relationship. If the gap between our personal power it great enough, I can force you to fulfill my wishes (d.b.a. “needs”) against your will and best interest. Each of our days is probably filled with opportunities to resist injustice and to challenge wrongdoings, most of which we probably choose to ignore. Not challenging wrong becomes a character trait that ends up justifying the wicked and condemning the innocent simply because of the short-term benefits we get. We then lose our ability to challenge our own wrongs and other’s.


Application (Psychological)
This proverb assumes an agreement of which behaviors warrant condemnation. Such an agreement, such a commonality, is not likely even for the more optimistically misguided among us. That lack of agreement, however, doesn’t release us from concern about relational values.


So when is it appropriate for me to challenge another person when I think they’re doing wrong? That’s easier asked than answered. Consider a mom observing her child’s immaturity (it’s tough enough making such decisions when the child is having an age-appropriate emotional fit). Consider also an employee chafing under an employer’s unethical practices or a neighbor whose neglected pets are disrupting the peace of the neighborhood. Such cases get even more complex when I remember that my sense of right and wrong might be vastly different from another person’s. In moments of purified awareness, I’d have to admit that my values are influenced by my narcissism more frequently than I’m usually willing to admit to myself, much less to you.


Following are two psychological constructs that might temper our narcissistic tendencies.


First, by acknowledging our ego-centric assumptions, we might be able to dilute them live more peaceable with fellow humans. We humans—almost universally—believe we have each fundamentally figured out the way things actually are and that we have done this objectively. We naturally believe in our intuitive perceptions over each other’s. Here are examples of common ego-centric assumptions:

"It's true because I believe it." Innate ego-centrism: I assume that what I believe is true even though I have never questioned the basis for many of my beliefs.


"It's true because we believe it." Innate socio-centrism: I assume that the dominant beliefs within the groups to which I belong are true even though I have never questioned the basis for many of these beliefs.


"It's true because I want to believe it." Innate wish fulfillment: I believe in (for example) descriptions of behavior that make me look good even though I have not seriously considered the contrary evidence. I believe whatever feels good, supports my other beliefs, does not require me to change my thinking significantly, or require me to admit being wrong.


"It's true because I have always believed it." Innate self-validation: I have a strong desire to maintain beliefs that I have long held, even though I have not seriously considered the extent to which those beliefs are justified, given the evidence.


"It's true because it is in my selfish interest to believe it." Innate selfishness: I hold fast to beliefs that justify my getting more power, money, or personal advantage even though these beliefs are not grounded in sound reasoning or evidence.

Second, by adhering to our psychological and counseling ethical codes, we engage more constructively with our collective morals. We need to submit. As wonderful as denial feels, we need to admit that we have human weaknesses—that we’re not demigods (and when you look at classical Greek and Roman myths, for example, there are few examples of moral behavior there, either).


Bribery is condemned in our professional ethical codes as well—not necessarily the types of bribes that are sealed with a wink, but the types, though, that we label as our dual or multiple relationships with clients. Outside of the clinical office—especially in a small community—it’s not easy to have only one role with a client. It might even be impossible. Dual or multiple relationships with clients tend to convolute ethical standards, and our ethical purities tend to break down in the presence of completing priorities. And once we humans get into that kind of confused state, we naturally resort to resolving conflict by subltly changing the question to “What’s better for me?” instead of “What’s the best professional help I can give you?” Here are three examples of why dual relationships are bad ideas for professional helpers:

(Therapist's justification): “As your therapist, I know you should reduce the stressors in your life, but you promised me that you’d paint my house before my party this weekend.”


(Swim-Team Coach's thoughts): “At the very least, I should be asking you some tough questions about your failed marriages and your inability to keep a job and probably some other safeguards, too, but you are the only one who agreed to drive our girls’ swim team to their competition in another state. Hmmmm. Is it worth the risk?”


(Pastor's justification): “I know your ex-wife accused you of abusing your children, but you said all the right things about being a Christian and you seem very gentle … and I really need just one more counselor for my cabin …”

Doing justice, practicing good, promoting safety, and enjoying liberty—these are as important to humans as air, water, and shelter. Few people would argue against these. And God agrees: “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). Yet these simple goals are as mind-boggling evasive for a community as … as … well, maybe there’s nothing else quite as evasive.


Of course, I don’t want to condemn the innocent. Of course, I don't want to justify the wicked. But what about things God has done for me? This leads to the conundrum of the cross and the Christian perspective on this:

For all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God (Romans 3:23)


For the wages of sin is death, but the free gift of God is eternal life in Christ Jesus our Lord (Romans 6:23)


Therefore, being justified by faith, we have peace with God through our Lord Jesus Christ: by whom also we have access by faith into this grace wherein we stand, and we rejoice in hope of the glory of God (Romans 5:1-2).


There is therefore now no condemnation to those who are in Christ Jesus, who walk not after the flesh, but after the Spirit (Romans 8:1)

Regardless of who I am or what I've done, God does not excuse or justify my sin (our sins). Sin is still wrong. It is still an abomination to Him. He condemned it even though that condemnation severed His relationship with us. But He also paid the penalty for our sins. He paid it Himself, thus freeing all of us from the crushing condemnation that perfect Justice demanded. His love solved the conundrum by paying the price of justice—death. His was not a justice-perverting bribe—it was (as described in the second chapter of Ephesians), a bride-ransoming investment. God died and rose again so He could still receive the mysterious benefits of relationship with us. Why would He love any of us so?


Prayer
Lord, I struggle with humility. I gladly receive, enjoy, and share the rich grace and forgiveness you gave me, but I’m not sure how to do that humbly, to not coddle the wickedness that caused so much pain to all of us? Between You and me, sure, I’m happy to receive Your grace and frolic through the new life you’ve provided. But how—with your grace—do I respond when I become aware of wickedness being practiced around me? Of course, it’s much easier to see in others than in me. Nonetheless, I want to be an agent of your grace that is strong enough to resist effectively injustice and promote freedom. I guess I need Your miraculous help.


Lord, my prayer doesn’t end here, simply acknowledging the difficulty isn’t enough. I still need to wrestle more vigorously with lifes moral and ethical obligations. I know I don’t do that perfectly or even very well, but, Lord, I’m willing to learn and to keep pursuing Goodness, Justice, Kindness, and Humility.


Yes, help me resist whatever is abominable to You and structure my life around those things that give You pleasure. Amen and amen!

When Stop Allows a Far Better Start

Scripture

(Luke 7:14) Then he came up and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, "Young man, I say to you, arise."

Observation
These three events--Jesus' touch, the crowd's freeze-action response, and Jesus' command--happened at the point of impact between two highly charged crowds. Here is the context that surrounds that drama (12-17):

Soon afterward [Jesus] went to a town called Nain, and his disciples and a great crowd went with him. As he drew near to the gate of the town, behold, a man who had died was being carried out, the only son of his mother, and she was a widow, and a considerable crowd from the town was with her. And when the Lord saw her, he had compassion on her and said to her, "Do not weep." Then he came up and touched the bier, and the bearers stood still. And he said, "Young man, I say to you, arise." And the dead man sat up and began to speak, and Jesus gave him to his mother. Fear seized them all, and they glorified God, saying, "A great prophet has arisen among us!" and "God has visited his people!" And this report about him spread through the whole of Judea and all the surrounding country.

To convey the striking elements of this story, Luke tells us about the living, not about the young man who died, the young adult man whose life was aborted. Instead, Luke introduced us to the woman who lost her marriage through death, now her motherhood. She was desperately alone in this crowd. Jesus, knowing her plight, had compassion on her and responded to her. She didn't solicit Him, perhaps wasn't even aware of Him being there. Jesus simply saw the woman’s agony and responded by touching the bier upon which the dead man was being carried (presumably by men, his friends). The abruptly halted. Their momentum and coordination "urched."


What if these men had refused to stop? Was touching a funeral bier common or uncommon? Why did they stop? Were they expectant, knowing this was Jesus? Were they shocked? Curious? Angry? Confused? Perhaps some of each. They, like the former mother, apparently didn't say anything to Jesus. They didn't ask questions. They didn't make demands. They didn't beg. Jesus simply understood and responded--He touched that bier and halted both crowds of people. Everyone froze and waited. Waited for what?


Jesus had His own private business dealings with the young man's spirit on the other side of the death--things the crowd didn't know about. In sight of the the crowd, though, Jesus dealt with the issues they saw and felt and understood. Why did He touch the funeral bier? That touch begged for something significant to happen next. What?


Application (Personal)
Like the funeral crowd, we live in a world of systems and structures. We collectively push forward processes and procedures. We parade our projects, dreams, and aspirations. Metaphorically (and perhaps literally), these things are just as lifeless as both this young man and the wooden structure his body had been piled on. Jesus didn't hug the widow. He didn't touch the dead man (that would have brought attention to the legal complications of touching corpses). He touched the bier upon which they carried the corpse.


Metaphorically, what are there dead structures or systems in my life that I’m carrying around? What are the lifeless projects I'm investing my life in, grieving and regretting and bemoaning along the way? I don't have time to parade pointless projects or push forward fruitless work. In the history of their earlier worship, they were taught that God's glory (pictured by the golden Ark of the Covenant) was to be carried on people's shoulders. Before these crowds, Jesus saw people parading--not God's glory--but a lifeless mockery of God's glory. That broke Jesus' heart.


I need Jesus to judge and touch the things I'm carrying so He can command life and wholeness. At least these people recognized their grief. How sad it would be if I spent my life laboring under fruitless works.
• Are there projects in my life that no longer bear the evidence of life?
• Am even aware of the noxious, “toxious”, or obnoxious things in my life?
• Are my dreams of God's glory in need of Jesus' resurrecting command?

Application (Psychological)
Certainly this suggests the narrow focus we have when our circumstances are so distressing or busy that we can't see the larger context or needs. Someone dies, as in this example, we respond blindly and numbly as best we can using what traditions and systems we can repeat. Frankly, this story suggest even more profoundly our need for nothing less that spiritual interventions from God. Our psychological systems--like the funeral bier--need that divine touch as well.

Prayer
Jesus, how typical this is of You: because You loved us and touched us before we understood Your love or good plans, we get to discover the essence and reality of real love. Thank You for not waiting for us to ask or become worthy of Your compassion.


Lord, may I be like the young man who died: whether I live or die, I want to serve You and Your glory? As I wander through my days on this side of the grave, instead of being dazed and distracted by heavy, fruitless obligations, may I be willingly interrupted by your touch? May I be willing to stand expectantly before you, holding my burden and submitting to your judgment? When I find my hopes dashed, like this widow, instead of being oblivious to all but my immediate circumstance, may I be awakened by the dawn of Your wonderful surprises: Your presence, Your purposes?


So, what would you like to do in my life today?

Ephesians 2:1-10:

And you were dead in the trespasses and sins in which you once walked, following the course of this world, following the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that is now at work in the sons of disobedience—among whom we all once lived in the passions of our flesh, carrying out the desires of the body and the mind, and were by nature children of wrath, like the rest of mankind. But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ— by grace you have been saved—and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus. For by grace you have been saved through faith. And this is not your own doing; it is the gift of God, not a result of works, so that no one may boast. For we are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand, that we should walk in them.