This is the third entry in our new series, TIKKUN OLAM. In it, we intend to explore what justice looks like in the eyes of God, and how we are called to partner with God in the healing of the world. We began by recognizing that the cry for justice does not begin with practical solutions, but grief that things are not as they should be, the way God desires them to be. When then discussed how the pursuit of justice begins with a deep conviction that God created the world and called it all “good”, understanding that “evil” is a corruption of nature.
Having in place a vision of the beginning and the end of the Biblical narrative, as we sketched out last week, helps us to dive into the middle bit to flesh out what justice means in God’s eyes. Here we find the prophets calling Israel, and by extension us, to account for our responsibility to help set the world right:
A voice of one calling:
“In the wilderness prepare
the way for the Lord;
make straight in the desert
a highway for our God.
Every valley shall be raised up,
every mountain and hill made low;
the rough ground shall become level,
the rugged places a plain.
And the glory of the Lord will be revealed,
and all people will see it together.
For the mouth of the Lord has spoken.”
(Isaiah 40:3-5)
Chapter 40 is what some scholars call Second Isaiah, a pivot from the desolation of God’s people and the ensuing exile in the first part of the book that now paints visions for how God intends to fix what has been broken. From 40-55 the prophetic images swirl around us - the highway of God, the good shepherd, the great architect, the righteous redeemer. In the above passage we note that God is not calling us to a literal terraforming project in which we raze mountains and fill in valleys; rather, it is a common metaphor in scripture that speaks to human-made hierarchies of oppression and power struggles. What is most poignant here is the recognition that this leveling and filling and smoothing work is bound to the concept of “glory” being revealed - God’s character and will are made known through the work of justice.
Justice, in the eyes of God, is the great leveling of humanity towards a “common good”. After the Fall of humanity, fear and competition quickly settle into the narrative. From Cain killing Abel merely one generation on we see a ripple effect of human decisions motivated by fear causing an imbalance to God’s created order. We become in-human, negating the image-of-Godness in our fellow humans to retain power and control. Over time, we create whole systems that scatter and show favorability, the mountains and valleys of human value. The anxiety of lack, that there is not enough to go around, leads to compulsive self-preservation for our tribe at the expense of others, generally those who are weaker or on the outskirts of society. This is the rough ground of which Isaiah warns us.
In order to right the wrongs of human greed and power, God chooses Abram to seed a people, a weak people who will know the suffering of oppression to begin God’s justice project. This promise to Abraham is fulfilled in his ultimate seed, Jesus, who is the righteous king the prophets spoke of that would undo fear and greed and set humanity on a new path.
So how does “biblical justice” work, perhaps in contrast to our culturally-bound definitions we accidentally read into the text?
Biblical justice is primarily seen as restoration of dignity for all image-bearing humans, and not simply retribution for wrongdoing. In Genesis 18 God speaks to Godself concerning Abraham: “I have chosen him, so that he will direct his children and his household after him to keep the way of the Lord by doing what is right and just”. These two words, righteousness and justice, are frequently bound together in scripture and bear parsing out their respective definitions. While they both speak of treating others as image bearers, there is some nuance. Mishpat - usually translated as justice - entails the right to purse self-interest until it infringes upon another’s rights. We might think of it as “legal justice”, or fairness. Pay someone what you owe them, don’t steal or bear false witness, and so on. But mishpat alone is not sufficient to create a truly equitable society, the smooth highway for God. Unto it we add tzedakah, translated as righteousness. This moves beyond legal fairness to speak of something more akin to charity, a moral responsibility to go above and beyond to lift up those who have been pushed down. If, for example, mishpat is paying someone what they are owed, tzedakah is giving gifts to those who have nothing, practicing a kindness that goes beyond what is considered fair. Taken together we realize that any type of justice that ignores or increases human disparity is not God’s justice.
Yet, as the story unfolds from Abraham on, we know that time and again God’s people failed to uphold the commission to righteousness and justice. Enter in the prophets at the peak of imperial corruption to shake up the calcified human systems:
This is what the Lord says: “Go down to the palace of the king of Judah and proclaim this message there: ‘Hear the word of the Lord to you, king of Judah, you who sit on David’s throne—you, your officials and your people who come through these gates. This is what the Lord says: Do what is just and right. Rescue from the hand of the oppressor the one who has been robbed. Do no wrong or violence to the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow, and do not shed innocent blood in this place. For if you are careful to carry out these commands, then kings who sit on David’s throne will come through the gates of this palace, riding in chariots and on horses, accompanied by their officials and their people. But if you do not obey these commands, declares the Lord, I swear by myself that this palace will become a ruin.’” (Jeremiah 22:1-5)
Here Jeremiah joins Isaiah in challenging the powers-that-be on how they run society meant to be a bastion of righteousness and justice. He correlates the treatment of the foreigner, orphan and widow with God’s blessing or wrath on society. This invites us to consider another aspect of God’s justice as a great leveling of human dignity when we place Jeremiah alongside verses like this:
For God does not show favoritism. (Rom. 2:11)
And masters, treat your slaves in the same way. Do not threaten them, since you know that he who is both their Master and yours is in heaven, and there is no favoritism with him. (Eph. 6:9)
Anyone who does wrong will be repaid for their wrongs, and there is no favoritism. (Col. 3:25)
God “shows no favoritism” in the human family; which means God shows special affection for those left behind that they might be raised up with the rest of us. We have a tendency to think that “no favoritism” means that God treats everyone the same; but anyone with multiple children knows that you cannot treat them equally, you must love them specifically as they need to be loved so they all grow together into wholeness. Fairness is not enough, kindness is specific to each according to their needs. Through the Old Testament these three categories of people are identified as those to whom God has special affection, lest they get left out in the dark. And we are compelled to accept the fact that we are not judged by merely what’s “fair”, but our kindness toward the disenfranchised.
I find the phrase “the common good” to be helpful in defining this type of justice. It has been a part of liturgy for centuries, and we use it in our Prayers of the People from the Anglican Book of Common Prayer:
“Guide the people of this land, and of all the nations, in the ways of justice and peace; that we may honor one another and serve the common good.”
It is through working towards the common good that all might catch a glimpse of the glory of God. Remember that olam in our series title can refer to the hiddenness of God revealed as we repair the world. I wonder how many people might deny the existence of God because they see so little evidence for God in the common story of humanity, the mountains and valleys. As OT scholar Walter Brueggemann once wrote, “fear and competition make the common good impossible.” We can and should bless wherever we see humans doing God’s work (whether they know it or not), and we can partner with them to see it come to fruition. We do not have the only access to God; we are not the only ones through whom God will work. We will explore this final point next week.
O God, you have bound us together in a common life. Help us, in the midst of our struggles for justice and truth, to confront one another without hatred or bitterness, and to work together with mutual forbearance and respect; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.