Ponderings

Justice is overrated and mercy in short supply. When the question “what does the Lord require of you?” is answered with three distinct charges, “do justice, love mercy, and walk humbly with God” (Micah 6:8) there is no redundancy.

I remember when the first woman was executed in Texas after the reinstatement of the death penalty. Then Governor Bush referred to the importance of justice in his refusal to entertain mercy. Our justice system is not, after all, a mercy system. Justice and mercy are distinct, and both are important.

Justice points to earned rewards (and punishments) whereas mercy looks at mitigating circumstances and potential. Justice may call for ‘an eye for an eye’, but the ancient prophets called us to begin not end with justice. Gandhi, like the ancient prophets before him, knew the futility of simple justice when he warned of a blind and toothless world. When justice fails to provide a level playing field, mercy is summoned.

Recognizing the role of mercy, I am inclined to give pardons and commutations great latitude. Even when the justice system has delivered justice (not always the case), there are a myriad of ways in which our faith would incur a further step, mercy. Though I’ve wondered at the apparent whimsy in which clemency is doled by presidents, governors, and parole boards, I embrace the concept and appreciate the humanity reflected.

I can make myself believe that there are reasons that mercy for Scooter Libby is faithful, if not just. He was, after all, himself a faithful player in a web that was not necessarily of his design. I’ll hold my tongue (and keyboard strokes) about cronyism in the Libby debacle, but if mercy is on the table, I’d certainly like to see more of it.

Mercy for the men held in Guantanamo for almost five years and denied habeas corpus would be a good place to start. Even if we accept the presumption of justice in the taking of ‘prisoners of war’, a war that has no foreseeable ending leaves prisoners of war incarcerated for life. Incarcerated not at the relatively upscale federal prison that awaited Scooter Libby, or even the more rough and tumble county jail that held Paris Hilton captive; the men at Guantanamo are held in the most unimaginable of circumstances. Justice denied, for whatever reasons, pleads for mercy.

Mercy is in the air this week as the pundits’ rail. Libby’s freedom is evidence of mercy. For mercy to find Guantanamo, however, the third charge from Micah must be realized. “Walk humbly with God.” Mercy requires awe in the presence of the creator of life, acknowledgement not of a disengaged higher power but of a presence greater than ourselves that is alive in those around us.

Humility before God is perhaps the most daunting of the three charges. Humility is the antithesis of the American ‘make-do’ mentality, counter intuitive for those of us who believe that we have earned our relative fortune in life. Humility calls us to subjugate ourselves and our accomplishments in light of something much more significant than any single human being, something more powerful than any single nation state. Humility calls us to recognize and even embrace the finitude of our existence, honoring infinity only in our interconnectedness. Humility is anathema to those who would wage pre-emptive air strikes but in humility we find the much needed foundation stones for reconciliation.

With justice elusive and mercy at a dangerous low, maybe it’s time to try a little humility.