The glory of Christianity is to conquer by forgiveness. –William Blake
I went back and read Micah 6:8 this morning, because “justice” and “mercy” keep coming up in my internal and external conversations. Despite having sung that verse to a campy little tune all my life, and despite hearing countless sermons on that verse over the years, I confess I often have a mistaken version of it rolling around in my head.
What I think I want that verse to say, is something along the lines of “He has shown you, oh man, what is good and what the Lord requires of you: to seek justice and love mercy…”
But of course, it doesn’t.
I can’t parse the Hebrew to know what the best translation of those words really is. The best I can do is use Bible Gateway to compare standard translations and learn this: none of them talk about seeking justice. The part about “justice” is all about my actions…
“to act justly” (NIV)
“to do justice” (NASB, ESV)
“to do what is right” (NLT)
“to do justly” (KJV, NKJV)
Now, I have to beg cultural influence here, as a bit of a defense for my poor internal exegesis. “Justice and mercy” get thrown around in a pairing to suit every need, particularly by those wanting to draw our attention to the social implications of the gospel. But most of the time, when you hear those words paired, the subtle implication is that we should be fighting to get other people to act justly, and focused on showing mercy ourselves.
But Micah 6:8 calls US to act justly.
Now I admit: I’m a product of my surroundings. I’ve been living in a small Presbyterian world of graded church courts and layers of accountability and circles of authority and hey! I think all those things are a great and biblical model of church government. Except that they’re made up, at each level, by a bunch of sinners. The checks and balances don’t always work. In other words, pushing for “justice” where there has been conflict doesn’t always bring satisfaction.
I’m also a big fan of Ken Sande’s Peacemaker book. In fact, I’d be quite happy if we could all just get together and open a vein and sign a contract promising to apply the peacemaker principles at every turn (since I think they’re simply careful applications of biblical principles.) But again, the process is broken: it takes two to tango, in all the best and worst senses. Darn sin! It messes up everything!
So, in the midst of ongoing unresolved conflict, I need to read Micah 6:8 again. When everything in me wants that verse to confirm my craving for justice, I’m instead reminded that I must act justly. I must continue to repent, wait, pray…. Micah 6:8 isn’t a battle cry for judicial action, it’s a bucket of cold water, thrown in love, on even our valid cries that we’re being treated unjustly ourselves.
To DO what is right, and to love mercy… I want to GET what is right and then make myself look all the better by showing forgiveness and mercy. Whew! How’s that for a stinkin’ bunch of heart idols: I want to eat my cake and be called generous for giving some away after I’m stuffed.
To act justly: keep doing the right thing.
To love mercy: can I learn to love mercy so much that I can really give it where it isn’t deserved or even asked for? (Since that’s ultimately the type of mercy we’re shown through Christ?)
Micah 6:8 is hard. I’m not going to sing it to that campy little tune any more.
Before you can ever make a clean and unamended confession of your sin, you have to first begin by confessing your righteousness. It’s not just your sin that separates you from God; your righteousness does as well. Because, when you are convinced you are righteous, you don’t seek the forgiving, rescuing, and restoring mercy that can be found only in Jesus Christ”
- Paul David Tripp, Whiter Than Snow (Wheaton, Ill.: Crossway Books, 2008), 22. (ht: Of First Importance)
