About a month ago I discussed the concept of symbolic dichotomies--pairs of opposing forces that often appear in literature. My specific focus was Order and Chaos, because of the confusion surrounding the nature of that particular dichotomy.
Now let's take a look at a second literary pairing: Justice and Mercy.
Of the five symbolic dichotomies I intend to discuss over the next few months, Justice/Mercy is probably the least-known. Dark/Light, Good/Evil, Order/Chaos, and even Creation/Destruction appear frequently in modern literature. But Justice/Mercy? This pairing is so neglected that many people may not consider the key elements "opposed." However, they are--not in the sense of warfare, such as we see between Good and Evil. Nor in the sense of Order and Chaos, which are elements of nature. Justice and Mercy are elements of mankind.
Justice and Mercy are unique among the dichotomies because they are the only dichotomy that relies on human behavior for its manifestation in the modern world. Yes, ultimately God executes true Justice and offers real Mercy--but until our deaths or the apocalypse, humans have the power (if not the right) to deal out small-scale Justice and Mercy to one another in society. In their simplest iterations, Justice may look like punishment for a crime--a fine, jailtime, or even death--and Mercy often manifests as forgiveness of those who have wronged us (especially when they don't deserve it).
To further explain the Justice/Mercy dichotomy, let's take a look at literature: specifically, a few lines of Percy Shelley's poem "Ode to the West Wind," which you can view here if you like.
First, a little background: Shelley was a later Romantic poet who wrote in a tumultuous time known as the Age of Revolution: The American Revolution had recently succeeded, the French Revolution had turned into a bloody mess, and the English nobility widely feared rebellion at home--which meant some of Shelley's poems, such as "England in 1819," could have been read as seditious. Poems that advocated for revolution or presented it in a positive light were a dangerous venture indeed. That didn't deter the Romantics, however, and this theme of revolution runs through "Ode to the West Wind" as well.
For Shelley, the West Wind (which came out of the west, so technically it was blowing east) represented the change he wanted to see in England--the West Wind came from America, the brand-new land of freedom. Shelley wants this wind to come because he wants revolution, change. A major theme of Romantic poetry is the corruption of the institutions and the need for change, as painful as change could be. (What does this have to do with Justice and Mercy? I'm getting there.)
So Shelley wants change, but death must come before rebirth--the dark winter of revolution before the springtime of improvement. In lines 18 through 28, the poet gives us vivid imagery of a storm swept in by the West Wind:
. ...Thou Dirge
Of the dying year, to which this closing night
Will be the dome of a vast sepulchre,
Vaulted with all thy congregated might
Of vapours, from whose solid atmosphere
Black rain and fire will burst: O hear!
The imagery of the sky (depicted as a tomb) bursting open may remind the Christian reader of another tomb that burst open a long time ago. Shelley suggests a resurrection (insurrection?) with this description. But in this imaginary scene, the result of the tomb's opening isn't the Mercy and joy associated with Easter, but wrath and destruction. What is the purpose of this resurrection-scene, if not Mercy? A revolution, a righting of institutional wrongs: Justice.
For all the Biblical imagery he used, Shelley was an atheist. It's worth noting the difference Christ (or lack thereof) makes. The awe-full description of "black rain and fire" descending from the heavens reminds us of God's power and wrath in the Old Testament.
Let's do something unpopular and view the Bible as a work of literature for a moment. (Any Christian who has ever written a story or studied literature knows the Bible is not only a guidebook for faith but also a work of literary brilliance.) There is a clear-cut literary dichotomy between the Old and New Testaments in how God is described and what He does.
In the Old Testament, God is the God of Justice, ruthlessly punishing anyone who deserves it--even (especially) His chosen people, Israel. God always keeps His promises, and one of His promises is to hold people accountable for their actions. Bad behavior has consequences, as we've seen from the Garden of Eden onwards--we ate the fruit we were not supposed to, so we must die.
But the God of the New Testament is the God of Mercy. Over and over we see His Mercy. In 1 Corinthians 13, Paul explains the agape* love of Jesus on the Cross:
Love is patient, love is kind. It does not envy, it does not boast, it is not proud. It does not dishonor others, it is not self-seeking, it is not easily angered, it keeps no record of wrongs. Love does not delight in evil but rejoices with the truth. It always protects, always trusts, always hopes, always perseveres. Love never fails.
This is a very different picture than the one painted in the Old Testament, and it is the perfect example of the difference between Justice and Mercy. Justice gives people what they deserve, be it reward or punishment. Mercy gives people a love they do not deserve, that they cannot attain for themselves. And why?
Because God decided that the willing death of one innocent man is worth more than the unwilling deaths of billions of imperfect men. God didn't have to, but He wanted to, because He loves us. And we did nothing to earn this. Romans 5:8 sums up the entire Bible in one sentence: "While we were still sinners, Christ died for us." In the Old Testament, we were sinners on the road to what we deserved--call it a highway to Hell. But in the New Testament, we were granted amazing Mercy.
And the most heart-breaking part of the story is that we don't accept it. We want Mercy for ourselves but not for each other. Like Shelley, we want revolution--change--Justice for those who have wronged us. We are unwilling to wait for the same God who sacrificed everything for us to mend the world--which he has promised to do. Ultimate Justice is coming, but we forget and treat one another with human pettiness and make a mockery of Justice and Mercy alike. But God always keeps his promises, and He told us not to worry about being treated unjustly during this life--indeed, he repeatedly warned us to expect it, accept it, and trust Him to deal out the final verdict when the time comes.
To summarize: the difference between Justice and Mercy is the difference between Old Testament and New Testament, between the wrathful thunderstorm of revolution and the empty tomb of resurrection. Does this mean Justice is bad? No. Justice is necessary. But only God is Just, so as writers and as Christians we must be careful in how we depict Justice and Mercy in our stories, because there is only one being who rightfully dispenses either side of the dichotomy, and that is God**.
*There are many Greek words for "love." Agape refers to perfect, self-sacrificing love.
**That is not to say we shouldn't punish criminals. God clearly states in his Law that evildoers should be punished. But when we punish someone in a way that isn't in accordance with God's Law (say, overthrowing our own country, which God specifically tells us not to do in Romans 13:14 and Hebrews 13:17), that isn't Justice, that's revenge.
