A QUESTION OF BALANCE
Mercy vs. Justice
Part 1 - mercy
Early one morning a popular rabbi came to the temple to teach, and it didn't take long for a crowd to gather. Everyone wanted to hear his words because the man always spoke as though he knew exactly what he was talking about. He never speculated about anything. His firm gentle tone and his statements that God was kind and forgiving endeared him to everyone who heard him speak. Well, almost everyone.
He was controversial after all, and there were some who made currency on religious vengence. No one ever knew when some pompous priest or one of their scribblers might show up to spoil the fun. If anyone was expecting an intellectual dual that day, they weren't disappointed. Sure enough, just as the rabbi sat down, a few religious parasites appeared. Shoving their way through the crowd with a young woman in tow, they forced their way between some who were comfortably seated and clusters of friends who had just arrived. Anger and fury twisted their faces into inhuman loathing as they heaved the girl onto the ground next to the rabbi. Like a pack of snarling dogs they growled the reasons for their intrusion.
"Master, this woman was seized in adultery, in the very act."
A hush fell upon the crowd. The rabbi, who had been gazing at the ground, did not look up or otherwise acknowledge their arrival. Feeling somewhat nonplussed at the rabbis refusal to recognize them, the accusers anxiously searched one another's faces, seeking another way to introduce their accusation. The eldest stepped up and dramatically cleared his throat.
"The law commands us to stone such. What do you say about her?"
He said it, of course, because this was the perfect hypothetical situation. The whole scene was created in hopes that the rabbi could be trapped in his own words, thereby restoring their position of religious authority in the eyes of those present. Long moments of awkward silence hung over the assembly until at last the rabbi stood to his feet and gave his answer.
"He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her."
The old man, who had announced the legal punishment, was the first to leave. Shortly thereafter he was followed by the rest of the woman's accusers.(1)
So the woman lived, because the community was too corrupt to protect itself from disorder.
Part 2 - justice
Another rabbi. A different city, with oceans of time between the two. He goes to her and stops the mob, as in the first story.
"Which of you is without sin?" he asks, "Let him cast the first stone."
The people are abashed, and they forget their unity of purpose in the memory of their own individual sins. As they open their hands and let the stones fall to the ground, the rabbi picks up one of the fallen stones, lifts it high over the woman's head, and throws it straight down with all his might. It crushes her skull and dashes her brains onto the cobblestones.
"Nor am I without sin," he says to the people. "But if we allow only perfect people to enforce the law, the law will soon be dead, and our city with it."
So the woman died because her community was too rigid to endure her deviance.
The famous version of this story is noteworthy because it is so startingly rare in our experience. Most communities lurch between decay and rigor mortis, and when they veer too far, they die. Only one rabbi dared to expect of us such a perfect balance that we could preserve the law and still forgive the deviation. So, of course, we killed him. (2)
Our mental concept of God is like that, fully merciful or fully just. None get the balance right and in that we do err. So some of us declare that God is terribly just, and will vacate from the earth all who are His favorites, before the Almighty blasts the planet to cinders. Others of us fill our minds with marshmellow madness, worship mercy and deny justice completely. The Lord will save all, they say, and they live upon the earth as though there were no God or justice at all. The remainder cater to the lusts of the flesh and the pride of life, denying the party will ever end or that anyone will ever have to pay the bill.
So the nation dies because its people are too corrupt or too spoiled to protect themselves from disorder, because we are too proud to ask the Almighty for help, or perhaps because we just don't give a damn.
that's just me, hollering from the choir loft...
-----------
(1) from the gospel of St. John chapter 8 verses 2 thru 9
(2) from SPEAKER FOR THE DEAD by Orson Scott Card, chapter 16 paragraphs 5 thru 11
Mercy vs. Justice
Part 1 - mercy
Early one morning a popular rabbi came to the temple to teach, and it didn't take long for a crowd to gather. Everyone wanted to hear his words because the man always spoke as though he knew exactly what he was talking about. He never speculated about anything. His firm gentle tone and his statements that God was kind and forgiving endeared him to everyone who heard him speak. Well, almost everyone.
He was controversial after all, and there were some who made currency on religious vengence. No one ever knew when some pompous priest or one of their scribblers might show up to spoil the fun. If anyone was expecting an intellectual dual that day, they weren't disappointed. Sure enough, just as the rabbi sat down, a few religious parasites appeared. Shoving their way through the crowd with a young woman in tow, they forced their way between some who were comfortably seated and clusters of friends who had just arrived. Anger and fury twisted their faces into inhuman loathing as they heaved the girl onto the ground next to the rabbi. Like a pack of snarling dogs they growled the reasons for their intrusion.
"Master, this woman was seized in adultery, in the very act."
A hush fell upon the crowd. The rabbi, who had been gazing at the ground, did not look up or otherwise acknowledge their arrival. Feeling somewhat nonplussed at the rabbis refusal to recognize them, the accusers anxiously searched one another's faces, seeking another way to introduce their accusation. The eldest stepped up and dramatically cleared his throat.
"The law commands us to stone such. What do you say about her?"
He said it, of course, because this was the perfect hypothetical situation. The whole scene was created in hopes that the rabbi could be trapped in his own words, thereby restoring their position of religious authority in the eyes of those present. Long moments of awkward silence hung over the assembly until at last the rabbi stood to his feet and gave his answer.
"He that is without sin among you, let him first cast a stone at her."
The old man, who had announced the legal punishment, was the first to leave. Shortly thereafter he was followed by the rest of the woman's accusers.(1)
So the woman lived, because the community was too corrupt to protect itself from disorder.
Part 2 - justice
Another rabbi. A different city, with oceans of time between the two. He goes to her and stops the mob, as in the first story.
"Which of you is without sin?" he asks, "Let him cast the first stone."
The people are abashed, and they forget their unity of purpose in the memory of their own individual sins. As they open their hands and let the stones fall to the ground, the rabbi picks up one of the fallen stones, lifts it high over the woman's head, and throws it straight down with all his might. It crushes her skull and dashes her brains onto the cobblestones.
"Nor am I without sin," he says to the people. "But if we allow only perfect people to enforce the law, the law will soon be dead, and our city with it."
So the woman died because her community was too rigid to endure her deviance.
The famous version of this story is noteworthy because it is so startingly rare in our experience. Most communities lurch between decay and rigor mortis, and when they veer too far, they die. Only one rabbi dared to expect of us such a perfect balance that we could preserve the law and still forgive the deviation. So, of course, we killed him. (2)
Our mental concept of God is like that, fully merciful or fully just. None get the balance right and in that we do err. So some of us declare that God is terribly just, and will vacate from the earth all who are His favorites, before the Almighty blasts the planet to cinders. Others of us fill our minds with marshmellow madness, worship mercy and deny justice completely. The Lord will save all, they say, and they live upon the earth as though there were no God or justice at all. The remainder cater to the lusts of the flesh and the pride of life, denying the party will ever end or that anyone will ever have to pay the bill.
So the nation dies because its people are too corrupt or too spoiled to protect themselves from disorder, because we are too proud to ask the Almighty for help, or perhaps because we just don't give a damn.
that's just me, hollering from the choir loft...
-----------
(1) from the gospel of St. John chapter 8 verses 2 thru 9
(2) from SPEAKER FOR THE DEAD by Orson Scott Card, chapter 16 paragraphs 5 thru 11
