On Vengeance, Justice, and Mercy

November 14, 2004 (Twenty-Fourth Sunday after Pentecost -- Proper 28)

by The Rev. Bryan England, Deacon

- Malachi 3:13-4:2a,5-6
- Psalm 98
- 2 Thessalonians 3:6-13
- Luke 21:5-19

This time of year, as Advent approaches, not only are we depressed by reduced sunlight, dead or dying vegetation, and cloudy, dreary skies, but we also get the most incredibly depressing scripture readings imaginable. As Advent approaches, our lectionary begins to concentrate on eschatology. This word comes from the Greek word eschatos, meaning last, or farthest, and is a branch of theology concerned with the final events in the history of the world, or of mankind.

In our Old Testament lesson, the prophet Malachi quotes a complaint of the people of God that sounds all too familiar to our modern ears. "It is vain to serve God," they cry, because "evildoers not only prosper, but when they put God to the test they escape." The righteous suffer, but the evil prosper. How can God allow that?

This passage reminds me of a conversation I had with a law enforcement officer who was undergoing an acrimonious divorce. He was drowning in debt, trying to avoid bankruptcy, and to his eyes at least his soon-to-be ex-wife was living a life of luxury. "All I want is justice," he complained.

The evil prosper, and the righteous suffer. Osama Bin Laden escapes a net thrown by the greatest army in the world to kill and terrorize the innocent again. Has O. J. Simpson found the real murderer of Nicole and Ron yet? What's taking the Scott Peterson jury so long? "All I want is justice," we complain.

I have found, however, that often when we ask for justice, what we really want is vengeance.

American Movie Classics has been playing "The Godfather" a lot lately. In the movie Amerigo Bonasera goes to Don Corleone after his teenage daughter is beaten and degraded by two young men. He asks the Godfather to give him justice. "What would you have me do?," Don Corleone asks him. He whispers in the don's ear, but Don Corleone shakes his head. "That is not justice," he says, "Your daughter is still alive." After a moment, the undertaker asks, "Let them suffer as she suffers." What he should have said was, "I don't want justice, I want vengeance."

Malachi placated the people of God with a promise. The Lord has a book of remembrance written before Him, in which is written the names of those who revered the Lord and thought on His name. "They shall be mine, says the Lord of hosts, my special possession on the day when I act." Then, Malachi promises, you will see the difference between the righteous and the wicked, on the great and terrible day of the Lord.

But when, when will the evil be thrown down, and the sun of righteousness rise, with healing in its wings? When will all the ends of the earth see the victory of our God, as the psalmist foretells, when God will judge the world in righteousness, and the peoples with equity?

In the reading from Luke's gospel, Jesus and the disciples are in Jerusalem shortly before the crucifixion, and are teaching and preaching in the temple. Herod the Great had begun rebuilding the temple forty years prior, and construction was still going on. The Jewish historian Josephus tells us the temple was 150 feet wide, and equal in height to a fifteen-story building. Further, Josephus wrote that it was "covered on all sides with massive plates of gold, the sun was no sooner up than it radiated so fiery a flash that persons straining to look at it were compelled to avert their eyes, as from the solar rays."

Some, Mark's gospel says it was the disciples, are looking at the wonders around them, the beauty of the massive stones, the precious gifts dedicated to God. Go ahead, put yourselves in the disciples' place. Look around you at the wood, the stain glass windows, the ornamentation all dedicated to God by the people who came before you. Look at Founders' Hall, which you, yourselves, built.

Jesus draws the disciples back to a harsh reality, "As for these things that you see," he said, "the days will come when not one stone will be left upon another; all will be thrown down."

Then Jesus lists fearful portents of the coming apocalypse that sound like they were culled from today's headlines: of wars and insurrections, of earthquakes, famines, and plagues. And then he foretells persecution, arrests, betrayals, all because they confessed the name of Christ.

To the early church listening to Luke's gospel, all of these things seemed to be coming true. The gospel was written about a decade after this prediction of Jesus had come true. The Jewish nation rebelled against Roman rule. The city of Jerusalem was recaptured by Roman legions in 70 A.D., and was systematically destroyed. The only remnant of Herod's temple is a portion of the outer walls known as the "Wailing Wall."

But the siege destroyed more than the city, it destroyed relationships as well. The Christian community of Jerusalem had refused to fight in the Jewish Rebellion, and fled to the city of Pella as the Roman Legions advanced. After that, Christians were no longer welcome in synagogues.

And the persecutions had started as well. Most of the apostles and uncounted others had already been martyred, and the church continued to suffer official oppression. Surely they cried out for justice, and eagerly awaited the great day of the Lord promised by Malachi, when the arrogant and evildoers will be stubble for its oven.

And still we wait for the victory of the kingdom of God, when the righteous and the unrighteous shall at last receive justice. But is that what we really want?

In "The Merchant of Venice," Shakespeare writes,

Though justice be thy plea, consider this,
That in the course of justice none of us
Should see salvation: we do pray for mercy;
And that same prayer doth teach us all to render
The deeds of mercy.
(Act IV, Scene 1)

Jesus promised the disciples, "By your endurance you will gain your souls."

But how have we endured? How have we kept the covenant we entered into at our baptisms, especially the last two promises, which regulate our interactions with others? "Will you seek and serve Christ in all persons, loving your neighbor as yourself?" "Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being?" How have we rendered the deeds of mercy?

I don't know about you, but on the great day of the Lord, when God comes to judge the earth, I certainly don't want vengeance. I don't even want justice. On the great day of the Lord, when I stand before my maker, I want mercy.