Act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly.That’s what we’re trying to figure out the “how” of. Now about loving mercy – I do. Just as long as the right people get “mercified” (spell-check says that isn’t a word. I say “it is if I can get enough people to use it.” Stupid spell-check.). In the end, it is no small task to love mercy. It is far easier to love vengeance.
It’s easy to see why. There is a lot of unavenged evil in the world. Sometimes it seems like the purveyors of injustice get a free pass. And it’s easy to believe that it would be nice to see some “enforced justice” handed out. Like the Charles Bronson / Dirty Harry / Punisher sort.
In American Cinema, this is a much-celebrated concept – the lone hero who, avenging the murder of his wife / girlfriend / niece / distant cousin, metes out justice from the barrel of a .45. The judge, jury, and executioner who prowls the city looking for evil-doers and gives them what they’ve got coming. The Paul Kersey, Wyatt Earp, Rifleman, Regulators, William Munny, most of Schwarzenegger’s characters, and Denzel Washngton in “Man on Fire” – types. Guys who know how to set things straight.
And always the unspoken rule of film vigilante justice is this: If sufficient cause can be established, no amount of punishment is excessive. For catharsis to be cathartic, it has to be limitless in its brutality. After all, the bad guys had it comin’ (say it with me, “we’ve all got it coming, kid.”).
Sometimes we people of faith don’t veer far from this script. We know from God’s words that He hates sin and injustice. So do we. We’re sure there is a special place in hell for the perpetrators of evil. Murderers, rapists, child molesters, investment bankers – all have a day of reckoning ahead. We tremble with anticipation at the thought. Some day, this too shall be made right. We envision the Action Avenger Hero Jesus, dispatching the wicked to the lake of fire with a pithy send-off line (“You’re fired!” or “The heat is on!” or “If you can’t stand the heat, stay out of the kitchen!” I’ve got a thousand of these).
That’s why it’s such a big let-down when God doesn’t take the kill shot.
We have this heart in common with Jonah. You know – “Go to Nineveh! No, I will run away! (Jaws music). Big fish digestive tract. Okay I’ll go! Fish blows chunks” – that Jonah. My favorite part of that story is not the barfing fish. It’s the tantrum in Jonah 3-4.
  10 God saw what they had done, that they had turned away from their evil lives. He did change his mind about them. What he said he would do to them he didn’t do.
1-2Jonah was furious. He lost his temper. He yelled at God, “God! I knew it—when I was back home, I knew this was going to happen! That’s why I ran off to Tarshish! I knew you were sheer grace and mercy, not easily angered, rich in love, and ready at the drop of a hat to turn your plans of punishment into a program of forgiveness! 3“So, God, if you won’t kill them, kill me! I’m better off dead!”
Up to this point, it’s a pretty good film script. Sort of “Jaws” meets “The Perfect Storm” with a promise of a disaster movie finale (think “Armageddon” if the nukes hadn’t saved everyone because the asteroid was heading for ancient Assyria and Space Shuttles, nukes, and Aerosmith hadn’t yet been invented). Then God has to go and NOT take out the bad guys. It’s like the Dark Knight has the Joker cornered and Jokie says “you know, I’m really sorry for what I’ve done” and Batman says, “oh, well in that case, go about your business. See you at the company picnic.” Good film. Bad ending.
The analogy fits because the Assyrians (Nineveh being their capitol) were no slouches in the “perpetrating evil” department. They were well-known for their brutality, and Israel had most likely just recently thrown off their domination. Jonah is sent to tell his former oppressors they can be saved from judgement. He’s hoping to be an abject failure in persuading them to repent.
But the hero of our story is not the amoral avenger. He is not the merciless exacter of punishment. He is not a blunt instrument of vengeance. He is not Klaatu, sent to dispassionately wipe us out for our naughtiness. He is our Father, and we are His children.
Detractors to faith often say they have a problem with the Old Testament “fire and brimstone, bloody God” who kills at a whim and spares no one. But the crux message of the prophets was not God’s judgement, but the possibility of God’s mercy. Not a judgemental God, but a relenting God. We miss this because of our modern American narcissism and over-wrought self-esteem. We place the burden of proof on God – prove to me that I am worthy of judgement. The Old Testament writers presumed the opposite, that since the Fall we are all guilty. Getting what we deserve is a metaphysical inevitability, as sure as “what goes up must come down.” God NOT judging us is worth taking note of.
And He wants us to love mercy because HE does. You would think He, like us, would love judgement, because it sets things right. But it doesn’t. It never could. Because that’s not the way He built the universe. He always wanted to be our Father, to gather us close, to shelter, protect, provide, and give and receive love. But we would not. We ran. He pursued. We fought Him. He gave everything to buy us back.
 Jonah ends abruptly with God justifying his kindness (“Should I not be concerned about that great city?”). What a weighty thought – that God would have to explain that He is actually being good for not wiping out a city. What does a deity have to do?! But not so surprising really. Maybe our greatest modern sin is that we have conjured up a vengeful, spiteful God, then cursed Him for not living up to our expectations. We shake our heads at His perceived blood-thirst in the Old Testament, then shake our fists because He has not eradicated evil in our day.
The truth is that He is holding off on judgement as long as possible because He loves mercy. And so should we.
I am praying that I will see the world like Jesus. Not like Jonah. Or Charles Bronson.
Â
Â
AUTHOR’S NOTE: Here’s where this particular sub-thread began – it’s kind of a serial-blogging (or serial killing of the concept of blogging), so I like to link back to touchstones…
