I don’t know if it’s appropriate to publish my homework, but if I’m going to put so much effort into an article on theology, I’m sure not going to let only one person read it.
Here was my second question in my email conversation. As you’ll see, I probably only answered half the question. It’s a good thing that I’m only graded on actually having the conversation, and not on content, because after 1500 words, I quit!
Here it is:
>For your second response I would like you to reflect on the relationship
between God’s love and justice. Where do these two meet most clearly and
does this affect the way we present the gospel?
The first verses that come to mind on the relationship between God’s love and His justice are Psalm 61:11-12.
>One thing God has spoken,
>Two things have I heard:
>That you, O God, are strong,
>And that you, O Lord, are loving.
>Surely you will reward each person
>According to what he has done.
No doubt those aren’t the accepted definitive verses on the love and justice, but they do show a couple of things: First is the fact that some of the things that we perceive as distinct concepts (God’s love and God’s strength, in this case) are, from God’s point of view, basically the same thing. The second thing is that justice, in the natural, human sense of reward according to works, is something that God actually deals in. “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?” (Gen 19:25). Last, they seem to indicate that this kind of justice is not in any way contradictory to God’s love. Rather, it is His love, combined with His strength that results in justice.
The trick is that we need to get out of our heads some images of justice that we’ve inherited. I always think of that Grecian statue of justice: the one where she’s blindfolded; where she has a balance in one hand and a sword in the other. The sword is right, but the blindfold is all wrong and the scale is a bit iffy. Traditionally, the blindfold signified that justice is no respecter of persons, which is good. God is no respecter of persons. But it also might imply that justice only works off the evidence presented to her, or that justice doesn’t have a clear picture of what’s really going on. You might even say that a blind justice could be thwarted. Of course, God’s justice has none of these characteristics. “The eyes of the Lord range throughout the earth to strengthen those whose hearts are fully committed to him” (2 Chron 16:9). If there’s one thing God *isn’t*, it’s blind.
It’s the same with the scales. The implication is that justice weighs the situation of two opposing parties and rules in favor of one party or the other. There is some basis for this mindset in scripture: reference all the psalms where the psalmist cries out to God for relief from his enemies. But in every one of these, the psalmist’s position is that he himself is blameless. Scripturally, justice is not something that needs to be balanced. Rather, “Let justice run down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream” (Amos 5:24).
My point is that most of our concepts of justice are for justice to be limited in scope because *we* are limited in scope. We know that when we try to administer justice, we’re likely to get the answer wrong, so we have to limit the extent to which we try to make things right. But God isn’t limited the way we are. His perception knows no bounds, and neither does his wisdom, so when he judges, he judges rightly.
Again, my apologies for a long parenthesis before coming back to the question. It’s very important, in my mind, to understand that God’s justice and our justice are not the same thing. Otherwise we run the risk of labeling God’s justice as something that is unjust. Nevertheless, again: “Shall not the Judge of all the earth do right?”
There are two basic areas, I think, where God’s justice and His love converge. The first area is in the motivation. The second is in the implementation. Incidentally, there is a separation between these two concepts in the Old Testament. The word translated “justice” (also righteousness) is tsedeqah, meaning to make or to be correct. The word translated “judgment” is misphat, meaning (heh) judgment, or a pronouncement—a verdict.
The fact that it is God’s love that makes Him want justice should be obvious. Part of why we have the law is to demonstrate that we don’t have the ability to abide by it. But the other part is pragmatic: if we would abide by God’s law, we would be better for it. Not just better people, but happier and more content. God demands justice not only for his pleasure but also for our benefit. A good chunk of the first part of Proverbs backs that up, repeatedly saying things like “Do not forget my law, but let you heart keep my commands; for length of days and long life and peace they will add to you.” In other words, that righteousness is for our benefit.
This motivation to make things “the way they ought to be” is basically an extension of his love, as I already described before. If I love my car, I want my car to be perfect, the way a car ought to be.
The trick is the implementation, which gets into all kinds of fun things, like free will, correction, condemnation, and eternal punishment—subjects that would take forever in their own right in something that’s already far too long. I’ll try to be as brief as possible.
The bible doesn’t say much about free will, that I know of. It’s sort of an assumed concept. Everyone always assumes they have free will until something or someone challenges that belief, sort of the way everyone assumes there will be air for their next breath. Nevertheless, it’s an important concept. If there weren’t free will, God couldn’t require that we “do justly” (Micah 6:8), nor would there be any need for him to bring us back to justice. He could just change what we do. In that light, the fact of our free will is an extension of His love, at least inasmuch as I know that my giving freedom to somebody is an act of love.
Proverbs 3:11—12 says
>My son, do not despise the chastening of the Lord,
>Nor detest His correction;
>For whom the Lord loves He corrects,
>Just as a father the son in whom he delights
Hebrews 12 continues:
>“If you endure chastening, God deals with you as with sons; for what son is there whom a father does not chasten? But if you are without chastening, of which all have become partakers, then you are illegitimate and not sons” (vs 7-8)
Instead of forcing our wills in order to bring about righteousness, He sends chastening—unpleasant experiences to make us stop and think, so that we will freely choose the right. This is justice, and the Bible clearly states that this kind of justice is an act of love. At the same time, in that correction, there is restraint. The purpose of chastisement is to bring us to repentance, not to destroy us completely. This restraint is also an outflowing of His love: “Because of the Lord’s great love we are not consumed, for his compassions never fail” (Lamentations 3:22).
Freedom from correction, that is, allowing injustice to go on, is a sign of a worse condemnation, not for the person on the receiving end of the injustice, but the person perpetuating it. It’s also an opportunity for us to demonstrate God’s love by doing what is right. This comes clear especially in cases like social justice. That people are systematically deprived of what is right on a regular basis is a given. That we have a responsibility to do everything we can to correct this is sometimes harder to see. But isn’t this exactly what’s being talked about in Micah 6 and Amos 5? Esther is another good example that God’s justice requires us to act for justice when the opportunity presents itself. Esther knew that the Jews stood unjustly condemned, and that she was in a unique position to speak on their behalf. Mordecai said to her, “If you remain completely silent at this time relief will arise for the Jews from another place, but you and your father’s house will perish” (Esther 4:14).
Lastly, of course, those who stand condemned will be punished according to what they have done. Better if that punishment comes in this life, but otherwise it will be in the next. As I mentioned before, it’s really difficult for people to see love in this final act of justice, but it’s there. First of all, just as lack of correction is a sign of God’s disfavor, so also allowing injustice to go perpetually unrewarded would be a sign of God’s disfavor. But also, Hell (at least in my book) is not so much a place of premeditated torture straight from God to Hell’s inhabitants, as it is a place where God finally gives unrepentant sinners exactly the thing they’ve been asking for: complete separation from God’s influence, where they are subjected only to the corrupted nature. It is God’s love that keeps us back from such a punishment as long as it does, but finally it is also His love that allows us to go where we have determined to go. I’ve read books that paint a utopian society in which the condemned and intractable are somehow modified, their hearts changed against their will. But it seems to me that this kind of unmoderated mercy isn’t any kind love at all.
Obviously, there are lots of caveats and gaps that I’ve left untouched in there, but this is already much longer than it ought to be, so I’m going to leave well enough alone. 🙂
neumatikos 