I’m Kind of (not) a Big Deal

I'm Kind of a Big Deal
I'm Kind of a Big Deal

At last we come to the end: Act justly, love mercy, and walk humbly. Now for the “walk humbly” part.

It would be hard to argue the fact that Will Ferrell’s supreme gift is his ability to create  characters that are big, loud, dumb - yet somehow lovable – horse’s rear ends. In so doing, he exposes the tendency in us all to think a little more highly of ourselves than our actual greatness merits. The prima facie case, of course, is his ass-ertion in “Anchor Man”:

“I’m not sure how to say this, but I’m kind of a big deal.”

I think most of the time I’m painfully aware of my own weaknesses and shortcomings. But there are days. Days when it’s easy to believe you are the sharpest crayon in your little box. Which reminds me of a North Dakotan joke (we tell those in Montana): What do you call a North Dakotan with half a brain? A genius. You see what I mean? Now I’ve isolated my North Dakotan readership with arrogant presumption and derision of their mental proficiencies. If they have finally gotten the Internet there, I’m hosed!

And God asks us to walk humbly with Him. Which leads the finite logical mind to start down a road of self-justification. We ask:

“Why does God care if we are humble? If He’s so great and we’re so..not great, what’s He trying to prove? Does He need us to grovel to feel good about Himself? Does He just want us constantly reminded we are less than navel lint? Is He that insecure?”

The Wonder and Weight of Being Born American

1123049_73266829Here on July 4th I thought I would take the few quiet moments I have before heading out to blow stuff up (in celebration of the freedom to blow stuff up, of course), to do what every other blogger is doing – comment on America.

 I was born in Turkey, but only because my father was in the Air Force. We moved to Montana when I was a year old (they have lots of missile silos there), and I graduated from Great Falls High. So now you know two important things: I grew up in a military family and a fairly small, reasonably isolated city in the middle of the plains (the only thing historically notable about my home town is that Lewis and Clark had to take their boats out of the Missouri there and portage around the giant waterfalls).

I’ve spent the last 16 years of my life in Western Washington, mostly in the Seattle area. So in the next two years, that balance will tip, and I will have spent half my life in each place – both of which have radically different views on America and what it means to be an American.

I’m down with mercy…as long as a few people get what they’ve got comin’…

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.

Justice begins at home.

obeyContinuing on my public processing of vexing questions, let’s pick up here – I promised to post “the things I am mostly almost pretty sure are true about justice. Maybe.” And so I shall. At least I shall try.

Global justice is a big chalupa. Economic, social, political, and religious inequities abound. I am increasingly convinced that during this moment of grace we live in – somewhere between the Resurrection and the Final Judgement, injustice will continue to abound. This is not to say I am fatalistic about the subject. God commands us to pursue justice, and we must, even if we can’t fix it all. 

But I find in Scripture a profound emphasis on another term that find itself in vogue today – personal responsibility. Simply put, justice begins with me. God’s heart is that I first and foremost consider my own actions. Have I marginalized, oppressed, manipulated or misused? Have I gone out of my way to use money, position, relationship, and authority in ways that honor, benefit, and respect others? Some proof texts are included below.

 

There is, however, a seemingly subtle yet vital distinction that could be a danger here. We must seek to rid our lives of prejudice, bigotry, hatred, and injustice. But we must not define these concepts or allow them to be defined by our own experience, pre-conceived notions, or soceital norms. Our culture does not define justice. Justice does not conform to our personal history, moral equivalence, social contruction theory, or any other relativistic norm.

God defines justice.

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