Justice and Mercy

 He has shown you, O mortal, what is good. 

And what does the Lord require of you?

To act justly and to love mercy
    and to walk humbly with your God. (Micah 6:8)

Justice & Mercy. Justice AND Mercy.  These two words have been echoing in my head for days now.  At least since Victims Services contacted me Friday afternoon to confirm the sentencing hearing for the woman who attacked me last summer would be going ahead on Tuesday afternoon.  It's a complicated set of emotions I'm feeling right now.  Relief at finally drawing a line under the incident, oddly disappointed there will be no trial (something in my heart and head wants definitive answers to "WHY?" - something I long ago realized we may never have this side of Heaven to a lot of things)  And tumble of other emotions, largely sorrow that my family and friends have had to suffer this too, and something else I can't define, because somehow I'm actually okay.  (In truth though I DO know why, or how, I'm okay.  That would be, quite simply, Jesus. Holy Spirit, my Father dispatching angels to my side that awful day)

The dictionary defines justice as the quality of being just; righteousness, equitableness, or moral rightness and mercy as compassionate or kindly forbearance shown toward an offender, an enemy, or other person in one's power; compassion, pity, or benevolence.

We so often speak of justice when what we mean is closer to revenge and a cry for punishment, and punitive punishment at that.  Mercy doesn't even come in to it.  Do I believe that crimes and misdeeds don't require consequences and punishment? Not at all.  There must be consequences to our actions and punishment for our crimes.  

And yet we ALL mis-step and break the rules sometimes -albeit rules without much impact on society as a whole and with no repercussions.

Since my recovery, miraculously speedy, I have had many, many conversations with people about the eventual legal outcome of the events.  Apart from me, those intimately affected - my friends and colleagues, my sisters, all want vengeful, "throw the book" at her punishment.  "Lock her up, throw away the key", let her suffer immensely for what she did.  I get it. I do. And yet I'm torn.  Weird, I know, and very hard to explain, but let me try.  Do I want her punished? Without a doubt.  I am hoping for a long sentence, running consecutive, not concurrent, for every charge.  But I am also hoping she gets help. Real, long lasting psychological help. Do I think mental illness excuses her behaviour? Absolutely not.  She was tested - and I know she had a plan, thought out and executed; she did not "snap" one day and suffer a mental break. But I watched her devolve, heard the desperation that led her to think there was no other way out.  And I firmly believe no one should ever feel so alone.   And so I sit on some metaphoric fence, my ethics and belief systems at a tug of war with my need for retribution.  And there lies mercy.  Compassion - or rather, pity.  My understanding of the need for forgiveness (I'm not there yet).  

I admit too, that I am angry.  Not for what she did to me - not that I don't have reason to be.  I just learned a long time ago not to waste energy on regret.  I did my job, and I would do it again.  I am angry that the staff in our office had offered her nothing but kindness and compassion; we were working to help her find her way out of a bad situation, and she spat on all of that, ground it under her heel.  And in doing that potentially barred the way for countless others to find the help we offer.  A less resilient team would have folded, they rallied and found a way to move forward.  Today, people have to navigate locked doors and plexiglass shields, and my friends live with anxiety and fear of raised voices, of angry, hurting language, and the very broken people we are there to help.  And yet we go on.  Offer words of hope and comfort, the navigational tools to find the way through.

I'm not as good as I should be, abiding by the requirements mentioned in the verse I quoted.  But I am trying, and the closer I come to walking humbly with my God, the easier it is to seek, and recognize, real justice, and to love mercy.  I have to trust too in Romans 12:19: Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: “It is mine to avenge; I will repay,” says the Lord.   At the end of the day, I don't want the responsibility if I'm honest.  I'm too quick to judge, too ruled by emotion, too ready to hold every one to my own personal standard.   God's justice, while much slower than I'd like, is far more perfect, and tempered with His mercy.  And I know that come what may my assailant will have to live forever with the knowledge of what she tried to do to me.  God's plan for my life is just bigger than hers was.

Be well friends, and may you ever have justice and mercy in equal measure