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“For children are innocent and love justice, while most of us are wicked and naturally prefer mercy.” - G. K. Chesterton, quoted in Into the Wild, page 117*
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One of the many ways Christians seem divided against each other, at least in my opinion, has to do with how the professed followers of Jesus view justice and mercy. In my childhood church, we were big on justice. We saw everything through “black and white, non-colored glasses.” There was good, and there was evil; there was right, and there was wrong; there was black, and there was white (and, of course, we knew which was which). There were no moral ambiguities or gray areas. We easily sorted people into groups of sheep and goats, saints and sinners, and the redeemed and the damned. The former groups kept the laws and statutes of God, whereas the latter broke and/or even flouted the will of the divine.
As a child and youth, I was sure as to who would be able to enter the pearly gates and traipse down the streets of gold. All adherents of other religions and atheists (otherwise known as the Godless heathen or the great unwashed - as in not washed in the blood of the lamb) were doomed from the get go. Roman Catholics could also forget about their chances. The voice of God from on high would tell them where their eternal fate lay when it would say for all to hear, “Go straight to Hell. Do not pass go and do not collect $200.00.” Catholics, with their Pope and “Mary worship” were as doomed to an eternity of crispy critterdom as any God-denying, commie-sympathizing atheist was. The same was true for members of mainline churches as well (including, but not limited to United Methodists, Presbyterians, Lutherans, and Episcopalians). We had no idea what they thought sprinkling some bath water on babies would do for their babies’ souls, but we could see all too clearly that holiness was not something with which they were familiar, what with their cross-dressing, cigarette-smoking, liquor-drinking ways. Some of the more holy Southern Baptists might make it in by the skin of their teeth, and other Pentecostals might also squeeze through heaven’s doors, although we Church of God (Cleveland, TN) folks felt that the Assembly of God and other Pentecostal churches were just far too liberal to earn our official seal of approval. As far as we were concerned, there was only one sure-fire way to be glory bound, and that meant joining The Church of God and being saved, sanctified and filled with the Holy Ghost (as evidenced by the speaking of tongues).
Because of these foundational views, most of the good church people I knew were short, very short, extremely short on mercy (and grace) and long, very long on justice (and, by extension, judgment). This was made plain to me on a personal level when my parents separated and later divorces during my Sophomore year in High School. My dad initiated an affair with a former member of the small storefront church he had started in Lebanon, Kentucky, and within a matter of weeks everything he had worked so hard for was gone . . . his family, his reputation, has career as a pastor, and his license to preach in the Church of God. On top of this, he all but disappeared from the face of the earth for awhile, and, as far as I know, only one person seemed to care enough about him to even visit him and try to talk him out of his folly. Everyone else was ready and fully prepared to consign him to the fiery flames of Hell for his transgressions. Only then would justice be served.
Even worse, this judgmental attitude with a veneer of justice was also extended to my mom. Though she was not the guilty party, the good church folk we knew blamed her, at least in part, for my father’s sins. What had she done to drive my dad out of our home and into the arms of that “Jezebel?” What sins had she committed? Some even went as far as suggesting that she must have had an affair with another man prior to my dad doing the Jimmy Swaggert and Jimmy Baker thing before it was a popular thing to do (btw, my dad’s name is Jimmy too. What’s up with that?). They could not bring themselves to believe that Brother Jimmy would have committed so foul a transgression without some sort of provocation.
It was during this time that I began to drift away from the church of my childhood. The pain of what had happened to our family was bad enough without the addition of the prying and judging eyes of people who were supposed to be our brothers and sisters in Christ. Though I continued to attend church faithfully throughout my next two years of High School, I began to have serious doubts about whether or not anyone could really live a “Christian” life. After all, if my dad (who had been the holiest man I knew) couldn’t do it, who could? I became increasingly sure that the answer to that question was “no one,” especially not me.
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Justice and Mercy, Part 2 will be posted on Friday, December 7, 2007
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* Into the Wild will be the next book up for discussion at The Librarium as soon as I get around to publishing an introductory post on the book over there.
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