Letting go of justice
The fourth Sunday of Lent
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
The last baptismal vow to be examined in the Lenten season is the vow of justice: Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being? What kind of justice is referred to in this vow is not always clear, but the gospel reading provides an illustration. It tells the story of the prodigal son, a story we have heard enough that it has become part of our cultural references. We have also heard many sermons and discussions about it, so that there is a risk of the story being too familiar. But to look at the story from the perspective of the baptismal vow provides a different dimension to it.
The main character in the story is the prodigal son himself, but the question around justice involves both brothers and their relationship. The question of what is just or unjust centers on the older brother and his reaction to the celebration of his younger brother’s return from a loose lifestyle, and he makes it clear that he feels that his father's actions are unjust. We can identify with that sense of injustice. How many times have we seen others rewarded or given opportunities when they haven't worked as hard as we have? How many times do we get angry when we see some cut in line, or weave in and out of traffic to get ahead? Safety aside, it's a question of fairness, the same fairness that the older brother grouses over. He didn’t get the fatted calf celebration, or his father’s cloak, or his ring, despite working with him in the field. When we perceive unfairness, we perceive an imbalance where one person has more than they ought to have, or is being rewarded, in effect, for bad behavior. But within that perception is a value judgement that we need to be very honest about: are we arguing for justice through regaining balance, or arguing for our turn at getting more than everyone else. Are we perceiving injustice because we are denied what we feel entitled to, like the older brother? Or, like him, are we claiming a right to more simply because of some social position or perceived birthright?
These questions of social or relationship justice are hard enough without bringing in criminal justice. We assume that criminal justice is pretty clear-cut, that we can regain justice through facts and logical argument. But the clear-cut nature of justice that we believe is natural to presenting the facts is often artificial. Context and background of the crime and parties involved can be ignored in the name of seeking retribution for those suffering injustice. But who we feel has committed injustice and who has suffered injustice has a lot to do with how and why we pick sides. The same is true for how we interpret the story of the prodigal son, who we feel was wronged, who deserves mercy, and who is at fault in that story.
Ultimately, how we perceive injustice, retribution, and restoration of justice says a lot about how we feel about or place on the world. The older brother felt that his place in the world was secure, where he would inherit his share of his father’s wealth and earn his father’s esteem. His younger brother’s departure from home should have been the end of his presence in the older brother’s world. Instead, the younger brother returns and is the center of a party. The older brother assumed that his position and hard work in the family guaranteed certain things like being his father’s trusted son, or being celebrated for his faithfulness to his father’s expectations. But the father is not obligated to follow his older son’s wishes, and chooses to instead celebrate the return of the repentant younger son, who is not even asking for forgiveness. As long as the older son assumes that his faithful actions and living by the rules of society should give him preference and privilege, he will remain bitter and angry at how his father received his younger brother. How often do we resent help given to others when we can barely make ends meet ourselves? How hard do we try to find fairness in the world, only to be ignored?
The older brother has a choice to make now: does he continue to expect his father and brother to follow his definition of justice, does he lash out in anger, or does he become estranged from his family? His world isn’t working the way he thought it was supposed to, and his expectations seem to have been ignored. He is waiting to be rewarded for his faithfulness, especially now that his brother gets rewarded for returning home. What he doesn’t see is that his father has rewarded him with compassion and love that can’t be earned with faithfulness. The father’s choice of how to express his love and compassion for both of his sons is his alone, and does not reflect the choices they made. The father is fair in a way that transcends both of his son’s expectations by creating a new sense of fairness: their relationship to him. He restores balance by telling them that they are equally wanted and valued, not because of what they have or haven’t done, but because of the love shared between the three of them. The sons are both offered justice according to the decisions they have made and the resulting life they lead: one remains at his father’s side helping on the farm, the other is given a second chance to make better choices.
Justice based on relationships, and on the compassionate love expressed in them has nothing to do with advantage, disadvantage, jealousy, or selfishness. It is ultimately about treating others the way you want to be treated. It is about understanding that we are all in relationship with each other as children of God, siblings with Christ. In that light, fairness comes from us by how we react to someone else’s life situation. Justice is not diminished when we acknowledge what someone else’s gain means to them. Peace is easier to find when we focus on our relationship with others, rather than on who has more or less than we do. Preserving the dignity of others is easier when we are not fighting jealousy or acting selfishly. We fulfil our vow of striving for justice and peace, and respecting the dignity of everyone when we view justice as our relationship to others.
When a relationship is broken through injustice, we have a better idea of how to react. Relationships broken by crime need forgiveness, a simple acknowledgement that something happened to disrupt the relationship. In order to restore the relationship to what it was, admission of guilt and true remorse also need to be expressed. Without forgiveness, confession of guilt, and remorse, there can still be a relationship but it will have strong, wide boundaries that protect the participants because compassionate love is weak and dignity is not respected. Relationships broken by social or family transgressions can be similarly resolved. Striving for justice means being in relationship with everyone, whether it is for a few seconds or hours, or years to decades.Striving for justice means seeing everyone as a brother or sister in Christ and treating them with the same love that Christ showed his brothers and sisters in his time. Justice begins with us, loving our neighbors as ourselves, and treating them the way we want to be treated. Justice begins with us.
Luke 15:1-3, 11b-32
The last baptismal vow to be examined in the Lenten season is the vow of justice: Will you strive for justice and peace among all people, and respect the dignity of every human being? What kind of justice is referred to in this vow is not always clear, but the gospel reading provides an illustration. It tells the story of the prodigal son, a story we have heard enough that it has become part of our cultural references. We have also heard many sermons and discussions about it, so that there is a risk of the story being too familiar. But to look at the story from the perspective of the baptismal vow provides a different dimension to it.
The main character in the story is the prodigal son himself, but the question around justice involves both brothers and their relationship. The question of what is just or unjust centers on the older brother and his reaction to the celebration of his younger brother’s return from a loose lifestyle, and he makes it clear that he feels that his father's actions are unjust. We can identify with that sense of injustice. How many times have we seen others rewarded or given opportunities when they haven't worked as hard as we have? How many times do we get angry when we see some cut in line, or weave in and out of traffic to get ahead? Safety aside, it's a question of fairness, the same fairness that the older brother grouses over. He didn’t get the fatted calf celebration, or his father’s cloak, or his ring, despite working with him in the field. When we perceive unfairness, we perceive an imbalance where one person has more than they ought to have, or is being rewarded, in effect, for bad behavior. But within that perception is a value judgement that we need to be very honest about: are we arguing for justice through regaining balance, or arguing for our turn at getting more than everyone else. Are we perceiving injustice because we are denied what we feel entitled to, like the older brother? Or, like him, are we claiming a right to more simply because of some social position or perceived birthright?
These questions of social or relationship justice are hard enough without bringing in criminal justice. We assume that criminal justice is pretty clear-cut, that we can regain justice through facts and logical argument. But the clear-cut nature of justice that we believe is natural to presenting the facts is often artificial. Context and background of the crime and parties involved can be ignored in the name of seeking retribution for those suffering injustice. But who we feel has committed injustice and who has suffered injustice has a lot to do with how and why we pick sides. The same is true for how we interpret the story of the prodigal son, who we feel was wronged, who deserves mercy, and who is at fault in that story.
Ultimately, how we perceive injustice, retribution, and restoration of justice says a lot about how we feel about or place on the world. The older brother felt that his place in the world was secure, where he would inherit his share of his father’s wealth and earn his father’s esteem. His younger brother’s departure from home should have been the end of his presence in the older brother’s world. Instead, the younger brother returns and is the center of a party. The older brother assumed that his position and hard work in the family guaranteed certain things like being his father’s trusted son, or being celebrated for his faithfulness to his father’s expectations. But the father is not obligated to follow his older son’s wishes, and chooses to instead celebrate the return of the repentant younger son, who is not even asking for forgiveness. As long as the older son assumes that his faithful actions and living by the rules of society should give him preference and privilege, he will remain bitter and angry at how his father received his younger brother. How often do we resent help given to others when we can barely make ends meet ourselves? How hard do we try to find fairness in the world, only to be ignored?
The older brother has a choice to make now: does he continue to expect his father and brother to follow his definition of justice, does he lash out in anger, or does he become estranged from his family? His world isn’t working the way he thought it was supposed to, and his expectations seem to have been ignored. He is waiting to be rewarded for his faithfulness, especially now that his brother gets rewarded for returning home. What he doesn’t see is that his father has rewarded him with compassion and love that can’t be earned with faithfulness. The father’s choice of how to express his love and compassion for both of his sons is his alone, and does not reflect the choices they made. The father is fair in a way that transcends both of his son’s expectations by creating a new sense of fairness: their relationship to him. He restores balance by telling them that they are equally wanted and valued, not because of what they have or haven’t done, but because of the love shared between the three of them. The sons are both offered justice according to the decisions they have made and the resulting life they lead: one remains at his father’s side helping on the farm, the other is given a second chance to make better choices.
Justice based on relationships, and on the compassionate love expressed in them has nothing to do with advantage, disadvantage, jealousy, or selfishness. It is ultimately about treating others the way you want to be treated. It is about understanding that we are all in relationship with each other as children of God, siblings with Christ. In that light, fairness comes from us by how we react to someone else’s life situation. Justice is not diminished when we acknowledge what someone else’s gain means to them. Peace is easier to find when we focus on our relationship with others, rather than on who has more or less than we do. Preserving the dignity of others is easier when we are not fighting jealousy or acting selfishly. We fulfil our vow of striving for justice and peace, and respecting the dignity of everyone when we view justice as our relationship to others.
When a relationship is broken through injustice, we have a better idea of how to react. Relationships broken by crime need forgiveness, a simple acknowledgement that something happened to disrupt the relationship. In order to restore the relationship to what it was, admission of guilt and true remorse also need to be expressed. Without forgiveness, confession of guilt, and remorse, there can still be a relationship but it will have strong, wide boundaries that protect the participants because compassionate love is weak and dignity is not respected. Relationships broken by social or family transgressions can be similarly resolved. Striving for justice means being in relationship with everyone, whether it is for a few seconds or hours, or years to decades.Striving for justice means seeing everyone as a brother or sister in Christ and treating them with the same love that Christ showed his brothers and sisters in his time. Justice begins with us, loving our neighbors as ourselves, and treating them the way we want to be treated. Justice begins with us.
Comments
Post a Comment