The Justice Of God
Sermon
Sermons On The First Readings
Series I, Cycle C
During the dark and sullen of days of the Great Depression in New York City there was one man who brought light and joy to an otherwise dreary and hopeless environment, the city's popular and charismatic mayor, Fiorello LaGuardia. The mayor was a favorite of all and was called by devoted New Yorkers "the Little Flower," for the five-foot four-inch mayor always wore a carnation in his lapel. LaGuardia was known for his flashy and colorful personality and the flare with which he did all things. He rode New York City's fire trucks, raided speakeasies with the police, and took whole orphanages to Yankee Stadium to watch the Bronx Bombers generally defeat their opponents. When the New York papers went on strike, he went on radio each Sunday and read the "funnies" to the children.
One bitterly cold winter night in January 1935, the mayor showed up at the night court which served the poorest ward in the city. LaGuardia dismissed the judge that evening and took the bench himself. In short order a woman in tattered clothing was paraded before him, charged with stealing a loaf of bread. She told the mayor that her daughter's husband had deserted her, her daughter was sick, and her grandchildren were starving. The shopkeeper from which the loaf of bread was stolen was insistent upon his revenge, however, and refused to drop the charges. "It's a bad neighborhood," the man said to the mayor. "She has to be punished to teach others a lesson."
LaGuardia heaved a great sigh, turned to the woman, and said, "I've got to punish you. The law makes no excuses. Ten dollars or ten days in jail," he ordered. As he pronounced the sentence, LaGuardia was already reaching into his pocket. He extracted a ten-dollar note and gave it to the bailiff. "Here is the ten-dollar fine, which I now remit. Furthermore, I am going to fine everyone in this courtroom fifty cents for living in a city where a person has to steal a loaf of bread in order to survive and to allow her grandchildren to eat. Mr. Bailiff, collect the fines and give them to the defendant."
The following day the New York papers reported that $47.50 was turned over to a bewildered old woman who had stolen a loaf of bread to feed her starving grandchildren, fifty cents of which was contributed by the red-faced store owner, while some ninety petty criminals, people with traffic violations, and New York City policemen, each of which had paid fifty cents for the privilege of doing so, gave the mayor a standing ovation.
This true story in the life of one of New York City's most beloved personalities, Fiorello LaGuardia, is a good example of how justice can be properly administered. The mayor knew by the strict legal code the woman was guilty and, therefore, must be punished, but he also was wise enough to know that the restitution should be supplied by the very people in society who had created an environment that forced the original situation to develop. Thus, all who were responsible should pay. In a similar way, God was disappointed with the crimes, the sins, of the people of Judah, and thus punishment, namely exile to Babylon, was necessary. But the Lord also realized that the conditions which led to this eventuality were not created by all, but rather came as a result of the greed and indifference of the powerful and elite in society. Thus, it would be the rich who would pay the price for the exile of all.
Biblical scholars tell us that the book of Lamentations was most probably written by one individual who witnessed the first deportation of the Hebrews to exile in Babylon. The author speaks in a metaphorical way of Jerusalem as the lonely widow, bereft of its king and leading citizens. Jerusalem, a city which was once great, has now been humbled to a vassal status under the mighty arm of Babylon. The lot of Jerusalem and its people is bitter, for no one comes to the festivals, her gates are desolate, her priests cry out, and her youth grieve the loss of their futures. Judah will be cast into hard servitude and will pay a heavy price because the religious leaders of the day have created an environment that has caused people to sin. God is not pleased and must exact punishment; but the Lord judges rightly and, thus, those most guilty will pay the greatest fee.
The woe and lamentation that today's First Lesson describes became the historical reality for the people of Judah. The religious leaders were exiled and the nation placed under a vassal status to Nebuchadnezzar. Some people of the day may have thought that these events indicated that the God of the Hebrews had been defeated, but the author of Lamentations says this is not the case. Rather Judah's God does not rise and fall; the God of the Hebrews is universal and has himself caused this calamity. Judah rises and falls depending on the people's ethical and theological response to Yahweh. It is Judah's sin that has led the community into exile.
The images of God's justice that are depicted in the Hebrew Scriptures are found in the life and ministry of Jesus of Nazareth as well. Christ's attitude, like that of his Father, was one that differentiated between the good and the bad, the innocent and the guilty. Jesus was able to look beyond the letter of the law to the more fundamental and important spirit of the law. We recall Jesus' words, "Do not think that I have come to abolish the law of the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill" (Matthew 5:17). Jesus, as a practicing Jew, appreciated his ancestral heritage and kept the law, thus promoting the kingdom he inaugurated with his earthly ministry, but the Lord was able to know when and when not to apply the law. Maintenance of the Sabbath was fundamental to Hebrew society, as dictated by the third commandment of the Decalogue: "Remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy" (Exodus 20:8). Yet, Jesus understood that slavish and unthinking adherence to the Sabbath proscriptions was not consistent with the spirit that the Father had intended. God's justice was able to differentiate and to know who had held the Sabbath in their heart and who had not. When the disciples were hungry, they ate heads of grain on the Sabbath; Jesus cured on this sacred day of rest. The Lord made his teaching and the justice of God quite clear, "The Sabbath was made for human beings, not humankind for the Sabbath" (Mark 2:27).
Another example of Jesus' justice in action is his encounter with the woman caught in the act of adultery (John 8:1-11). The religious authorities paraded the woman in front of Jesus to see how he would handle the situation, in hopes that he would do something contradictory to the tradition or law, and thus, add to the mounting evidence in the case they were building against him. The Lord is unconcerned about what the authorities think; his sole interest is the needs of the woman and her future. Yes, punishment must be given; justice must be satisfied, but Jesus will start with those who stand in accusation against the woman. When they all drift off one-by-one, Jesus is left alone with the woman. He asks, "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?" She responds, "No one, sir." Then Jesus gave her the exhortation and challenge, "Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again" (John 8:10-11). Like Mayor LaGuardia, Jesus stood ready to pay the price of the woman's fine, her punishment, but he wanted others to know that the environment of accusation and fear created by the religious leaders of the day had led to the woman's crime.
God's justice is exacted in our time as well. Like the religious leaders of Judah, we make many mistakes and sometimes, possibly unknowingly, create an environment that leads others astray as well. There are times in our lives when we feel as desolate and widowed as Jerusalem at the time of the exile. However, like the Hebrews who after their sojourn in Babylon ended were ready to be embraced by God, so we must stand ready to accept again God's forgiveness and love. There is no situation that is hopeless and no sin that God cannot heal, save that for which we never ask forgiveness. God stands ready to shower his love upon us, but we must be ready to accept. Also, we must be ready to go forward with our newfound reconciliation and love and make a new beginning in our lives. When we are saved, when we experience God's justice, we must make our renewed lives count. A little story illustrates this point.
One day a man dove into a raging swollen river to rescue a boy who had fallen in and was being pulled under. It was a tough struggle, but the man succeeded in grabbing an overhanging branch while clinging to the boy with the other hand. The man brought the boy to safety, none the worse for his brush with death. The boy was returned to his mother. As the man was leaving the house, the boy said, "Thank you very much, sir, for saving my life." The man, in turn put one hand under the boy's chin, looked him in the eye, and said, "That's okay, son. Just make sure your life was worth saving."
Fiorello LaGuardia exacted justice on a system that had precipitated a horrible situation, and God, in a similar way, brought justice to the Hebrews for their many sins and transgressions. God's justice will be done in our time, and thus we must be ready to accept what God asks and move forward renewed and prepared to start afresh. Let us be grateful for the presence of God in our lives and make God's justice, his rescue of us, fruitful. Let our lives be worthy of God's justice and love. The price we pay is worth the reward -- our eternal happiness with God.
One bitterly cold winter night in January 1935, the mayor showed up at the night court which served the poorest ward in the city. LaGuardia dismissed the judge that evening and took the bench himself. In short order a woman in tattered clothing was paraded before him, charged with stealing a loaf of bread. She told the mayor that her daughter's husband had deserted her, her daughter was sick, and her grandchildren were starving. The shopkeeper from which the loaf of bread was stolen was insistent upon his revenge, however, and refused to drop the charges. "It's a bad neighborhood," the man said to the mayor. "She has to be punished to teach others a lesson."
LaGuardia heaved a great sigh, turned to the woman, and said, "I've got to punish you. The law makes no excuses. Ten dollars or ten days in jail," he ordered. As he pronounced the sentence, LaGuardia was already reaching into his pocket. He extracted a ten-dollar note and gave it to the bailiff. "Here is the ten-dollar fine, which I now remit. Furthermore, I am going to fine everyone in this courtroom fifty cents for living in a city where a person has to steal a loaf of bread in order to survive and to allow her grandchildren to eat. Mr. Bailiff, collect the fines and give them to the defendant."
The following day the New York papers reported that $47.50 was turned over to a bewildered old woman who had stolen a loaf of bread to feed her starving grandchildren, fifty cents of which was contributed by the red-faced store owner, while some ninety petty criminals, people with traffic violations, and New York City policemen, each of which had paid fifty cents for the privilege of doing so, gave the mayor a standing ovation.
This true story in the life of one of New York City's most beloved personalities, Fiorello LaGuardia, is a good example of how justice can be properly administered. The mayor knew by the strict legal code the woman was guilty and, therefore, must be punished, but he also was wise enough to know that the restitution should be supplied by the very people in society who had created an environment that forced the original situation to develop. Thus, all who were responsible should pay. In a similar way, God was disappointed with the crimes, the sins, of the people of Judah, and thus punishment, namely exile to Babylon, was necessary. But the Lord also realized that the conditions which led to this eventuality were not created by all, but rather came as a result of the greed and indifference of the powerful and elite in society. Thus, it would be the rich who would pay the price for the exile of all.
Biblical scholars tell us that the book of Lamentations was most probably written by one individual who witnessed the first deportation of the Hebrews to exile in Babylon. The author speaks in a metaphorical way of Jerusalem as the lonely widow, bereft of its king and leading citizens. Jerusalem, a city which was once great, has now been humbled to a vassal status under the mighty arm of Babylon. The lot of Jerusalem and its people is bitter, for no one comes to the festivals, her gates are desolate, her priests cry out, and her youth grieve the loss of their futures. Judah will be cast into hard servitude and will pay a heavy price because the religious leaders of the day have created an environment that has caused people to sin. God is not pleased and must exact punishment; but the Lord judges rightly and, thus, those most guilty will pay the greatest fee.
The woe and lamentation that today's First Lesson describes became the historical reality for the people of Judah. The religious leaders were exiled and the nation placed under a vassal status to Nebuchadnezzar. Some people of the day may have thought that these events indicated that the God of the Hebrews had been defeated, but the author of Lamentations says this is not the case. Rather Judah's God does not rise and fall; the God of the Hebrews is universal and has himself caused this calamity. Judah rises and falls depending on the people's ethical and theological response to Yahweh. It is Judah's sin that has led the community into exile.
The images of God's justice that are depicted in the Hebrew Scriptures are found in the life and ministry of Jesus of Nazareth as well. Christ's attitude, like that of his Father, was one that differentiated between the good and the bad, the innocent and the guilty. Jesus was able to look beyond the letter of the law to the more fundamental and important spirit of the law. We recall Jesus' words, "Do not think that I have come to abolish the law of the prophets; I have come not to abolish but to fulfill" (Matthew 5:17). Jesus, as a practicing Jew, appreciated his ancestral heritage and kept the law, thus promoting the kingdom he inaugurated with his earthly ministry, but the Lord was able to know when and when not to apply the law. Maintenance of the Sabbath was fundamental to Hebrew society, as dictated by the third commandment of the Decalogue: "Remember the Sabbath day, and keep it holy" (Exodus 20:8). Yet, Jesus understood that slavish and unthinking adherence to the Sabbath proscriptions was not consistent with the spirit that the Father had intended. God's justice was able to differentiate and to know who had held the Sabbath in their heart and who had not. When the disciples were hungry, they ate heads of grain on the Sabbath; Jesus cured on this sacred day of rest. The Lord made his teaching and the justice of God quite clear, "The Sabbath was made for human beings, not humankind for the Sabbath" (Mark 2:27).
Another example of Jesus' justice in action is his encounter with the woman caught in the act of adultery (John 8:1-11). The religious authorities paraded the woman in front of Jesus to see how he would handle the situation, in hopes that he would do something contradictory to the tradition or law, and thus, add to the mounting evidence in the case they were building against him. The Lord is unconcerned about what the authorities think; his sole interest is the needs of the woman and her future. Yes, punishment must be given; justice must be satisfied, but Jesus will start with those who stand in accusation against the woman. When they all drift off one-by-one, Jesus is left alone with the woman. He asks, "Woman, where are they? Has no one condemned you?" She responds, "No one, sir." Then Jesus gave her the exhortation and challenge, "Neither do I condemn you. Go your way, and from now on do not sin again" (John 8:10-11). Like Mayor LaGuardia, Jesus stood ready to pay the price of the woman's fine, her punishment, but he wanted others to know that the environment of accusation and fear created by the religious leaders of the day had led to the woman's crime.
God's justice is exacted in our time as well. Like the religious leaders of Judah, we make many mistakes and sometimes, possibly unknowingly, create an environment that leads others astray as well. There are times in our lives when we feel as desolate and widowed as Jerusalem at the time of the exile. However, like the Hebrews who after their sojourn in Babylon ended were ready to be embraced by God, so we must stand ready to accept again God's forgiveness and love. There is no situation that is hopeless and no sin that God cannot heal, save that for which we never ask forgiveness. God stands ready to shower his love upon us, but we must be ready to accept. Also, we must be ready to go forward with our newfound reconciliation and love and make a new beginning in our lives. When we are saved, when we experience God's justice, we must make our renewed lives count. A little story illustrates this point.
One day a man dove into a raging swollen river to rescue a boy who had fallen in and was being pulled under. It was a tough struggle, but the man succeeded in grabbing an overhanging branch while clinging to the boy with the other hand. The man brought the boy to safety, none the worse for his brush with death. The boy was returned to his mother. As the man was leaving the house, the boy said, "Thank you very much, sir, for saving my life." The man, in turn put one hand under the boy's chin, looked him in the eye, and said, "That's okay, son. Just make sure your life was worth saving."
Fiorello LaGuardia exacted justice on a system that had precipitated a horrible situation, and God, in a similar way, brought justice to the Hebrews for their many sins and transgressions. God's justice will be done in our time, and thus we must be ready to accept what God asks and move forward renewed and prepared to start afresh. Let us be grateful for the presence of God in our lives and make God's justice, his rescue of us, fruitful. Let our lives be worthy of God's justice and love. The price we pay is worth the reward -- our eternal happiness with God.
