Cheap Justice, Cheap Grace

In watching people die, I have come to better appreciate how much meaning people attach to a body and how death has a way of revealing our most elemental beliefs about what remains. I have talked to patients in their final moments, have shoved long needles into pulseless vessels, have held the hands of weeping mothers and wives and sons, have electrified bodies on hallway floors, have carried severed limbs and have watched blood and vomit and blood fly through the air during final resuscitation attempts. I have stayed in the room with these bodies after life has passed and have found this to be true: death is not always dignified.

Lockdown. The street where the suspect was captured. Photo taken by Heather Ardrey. Originally posted by Heather in Responding to the events of Boston Marathon 2013 (4/21/2013).

However, this does not mean that a body can be divorced from meaning. It has been nearly a month since the Boston marathon bombings, and yet its bitter memory lingers in an unusually unsettling way. In remembering, we want to act in the right way, but how can we tell what that even means?

A desire for justice can easily become a thirst for vengeance. We are tempted to make exemptions to our own laws on civil liberties and justify a demand to judicate Dzokhar Tsarnaev as an enemy combatant. We even foment controversy over the burial plot of the deceased bomber himself, to the point where a local police chief felt compelled to plead with and remind the public, “There is a need to do the right thing… We are not barbarians. We bury the dead.

And yet on the opposite end of the spectrum, a humanizing approach can seem equally disturbing. We struggle with the question of graciousness or even the audacity of forgiveness. An article on the Huffington Post expressed this hesitation well:

Look on the HuffPost Religion section, and you will see articles by reverends and professors extolling the virtues of forgiveness, even writing letters to Dzhokhar Tsarnaev, telling him that they don’t blame him, he’s just a kid.

Go on Reddit and you’ll see that the most top-voted comments surrounding him are thoughts about how normal he was, and how he must have been manipulated by his brother, and wow, you have to feel bad for him. The comments under these extol those people for having “empathy.” The comments under those attack those who don’t have empathy. And it goes in a circle (I believe they have a term for that on Reddit).

And then it reached a head two nights ago, when Amanda Palmer, some singer, posted a poem for Dzhokhar Tsarnaev. She tried to see the situation from his perspective, and wrote such special lines as:

You don’t know why you let that guy go without shooting him dead and stuffing him in some bushes between cambridge and watertown.

You don’t know where your friends went.

You don’t know how to dance but you give it a shot anyway.

Poor Amanda has started a firestorm on the web, but the truth is she’s only getting the heat because her poem was so over the top. This sympathizing with attackers, with murderers, with terrorists, has been sweeping our country for years now.

It seems that after every massacre, every school shooting, every terror attack, a segment of our country begs, cries, for a way to excuse the killers, and the Boston massacre has brought that segment out in spades.

It’s time that we drew a line. It’s time that we said enough.

We possess two reflexes in reacting to horrific sin. One is to isolate it by demonizing and marginalizing the human perpetrators, to remove them from the ordinary and proper ways of life. It is pacifying to our consciences to depict them as such wretched and immoral creatures that there is nothing human left about them. By portraying them as subhuman and alien, we make them disposable and can conveniently believe that the people and circumstances involved were so extraordinary and unusual that there is little statistical probability either could ever occur again.  This is how we tend to think about genocide, child prostitution, drug trafficking, and war. We want to believe that Hitler was simply an incidentally powerful psychopath, that pedophiles are psychiatrically insane, that drug dealers are wolves in human flesh, and that enemy combatants are godless communists or hate-crazed jihadists. However, this ignores the reality that genocide is cyclical, that its participants are ordinary citizens who repeat its cycle somewhere on the globe every few years, that most brothel owners are profiteering women and mothers and family people, that most drug trafficking is done by young teenagers and adults in our local communities, and that the battle lines in war are often changed by a simple manipulation of doublespeak. If we mean to demonize evil, then demons are remarkably commonplace.

Our second reflex is to normalize and embrace the offendant. We reason that their behavior is not only common, but understandable and perhaps even excusable. In the most extreme cases, we even idolize it:

“Jahar” is what Dzhokhar Tsarnaev’s friends and Twitter followers call him, and #FreeJahar is the hashtag banner around which thousands of people have rallied on Twitter, Tumblr and Facebook to closely follow Tsarnaev’s case and share what they believe to be evidence of his innocence. I tracked Claire down (through her One Direction fan fiction page) and, over Twitter direct messages, asked her about her Tumblr. “I do believe he is very cute, but that’s not the reason I am personally involved in this movement,” she emailed me back. “I am in this because I don’t believe its right to put a totally innocent person in jail for the rest of his/her life or even death penalty. I don’t care who it is, it just isn’t fair.”

Whenever I read pieces of news on either extreme (the picketing of funerals or the placation of criminals), my first impulse is to become physically nauseous. I want to criticize and ridicule and argue with and reject them as idiotic and unbelievable. But I must realize that I too am guilty of such perversions.

My favorite verse from scripture is Micah 6:8:

He has shown you, O mortal, what is good.
And what does the Lord require of you?
To act justly and to love mercy
and to walk humbly with your God.

What does this mean? It means reminding myself that righteousness is so sacred that it must be woven into daily action: commonplace deliberation in distinguishing right from wrong on a basis independent of my personal attachments and preferences. It means seeking civil, corporate, and social justice at its highest and greatest virtue, at whatever cost is necessary to achieve integrity. It means speaking truth to power and the diligent pursuit of moral ethic at the expense of personal gain and discomfort. And I will say that our collective discomfort with the trendiness of forgiveness is that it seems like cheap grace: a violation of our God-given desire for the integrity of justice, and consequently an implicit insult and demeaning of the virtue and value of what has been destroyed. This is why we instinctively feel that forgiveness can only be offered by those who have purchased the right by having suffered loss, and that only through such a transaction have we given due credibility to the integrity of our justice. To shortcut this process by failing to appreciate the full gravity of injustice is itself unjust.

But we are equally challenged to have a visceral and enduring affection for mercy. This means that once we have understood the weight of what is wrong, we seek the strength to set it down. According to Miroslav Volf, this does not mean we erase the distinction between victims and aggressors, but that we recognize that each of us is both victim and aggressor. Out of our indignation, anger, and hurt from being offended, we can compassionately recognize and understand the virtue of those we have done violence to. In loving mercy, we can convert our own pain into sorrow and remorse for our offenses towards others, and through that sense we generate the emotional capacity to pursue a systematic and methodologic pursuit of virtue.

The call from scripture is simple but it is not easy. How can we engage in the meticulous and daily pursuit of virtue without exhaustion or cynicism? How can we expect to live such a life without becoming embroiled in the argument over whose rights are right, whose justice will prevail, whose offenses are legitimate and whose are frivolous? After all, we fail daily over innumerable petty disagreements. We are always seeking our own vigilante justice, always indulging in our own self-pity, always eager to assert our own self-righteousness or to deny fault.

We do it through Jesus Christ, the humility of God who walked among us and still dwells in our midst:

You see, at just the right time, when we were still powerless, Christ died for the ungodly. Very rarely will anyone die for a righteous person, though for a good person someone might possibly dare to die. But God demonstrates his own love for us in this: While we were still sinners, Christ died for us.

Since we have now been justified by his blood, how much more shall we be saved from God’s wrath through him! For if, while we were God’s enemies, we were reconciled to him through the death of his Son, how much more, having been reconciled, shall we be saved through his life! Not only is this so, but we also boast in God through our Lord Jesus Christ, through whom we have now received reconciliation. – Romans 5

In Christ, there is both the satisfaction of justice and the sweetness of grace. In Christ, there is the personal embodiment and example of otherwise abstract principles. In Christ, we uphold the word and bond of law while turning the other cheek and loving our enemies.

I have no easy answers for how we should approach the Tsarnaev brothers, mainly because the impact of what they have done is removed far enough from me that I feel unqualified to speak of appropriate retribution (and certainly unqualified to offer forgiveness). But what I do know is that it cannot be achieved outside of the person and divinity of Jesus Christ, who bore the full weight of injustice that we may receive immeasurable grace. To him, I submit both my rights and my affection.

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David graduated from Princeton University with a degree in Electrical Engineering and received his medical degree from Rutgers - Robert Wood Johnson Medical School with a Masters in Public Health concentrated in health systems and policy. He completed a dual residency in Internal Medicine and Pediatrics at Christiana Care Health System in Delaware. He continues to work in Delaware as a dual Med-Peds hospitalist. Faith-wise, he is decid­edly Christian, and regarding everything else he will gladly talk your ear off about health policy, the inner city, gadgets, and why Disney’s Frozen is actually a terrible movie.

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    Mo commented on May 10, 2013 Reply

    Perhaps the rest of this article makes some good points, but I couldn’t get past this:

    “… and that enemy combatants are godless communists or hate-crazed jihadists.”

    In the case of the Boston bombers, they WERE hate-crazed jihadists. That’s what a jihadist IS – someone obeying the teachings of Islam which say non-believers must convert, submit, or be killed. LOOK IT UP!

    And this:

    “and that the battle lines in war are often changed by a simple manipulation of doublespeak.”

    Nonsense. Wars happen for a reason, and oftentimes there is a clear, moral right side and wrong side. Are you claiming the battle lines of WWII could’ve been changed by a ‘simple manipulation of doublespeak’? That’s insane.

    Good grief! It’s a strange day indeed when an article on the Huffington Post makes more moral sense than one on a Christian website.

      theurbanresident commented on May 10, 2013 Reply

      Thanks for the comments. To clarify a few points:

      1) “enemy combatants are godless communists or hate-crazed jihadists”: My point is about making generalizations. I am not saying that there aren’t hate-crazed jihadists (clearly, as you say and as we’ve seen with what is probably the case of the Boston bombers, there are). My point is that we often use these generalizations as if they were sufficient to explain the actions that take place, and that we need to be meticulous in how we assess the justice of a situation. For example, we ask the question, “Were the Boston bombings purely motivated by jihadist thinking?” Perhaps, but we do not yet know for sure. It is possible and perhaps even likely that this was the older brother’s thinking, but we are uncertain of what motivated the younger one. However, if we are going to be meticulous with our justice, we have to be careful. By dismissing people as “those crazy (blank),” it already phrases the issue as an “us versus them” problem, as if the things that persuaded and influenced them to act are impossible to comprehend. This is how we tend to think about the Nazi Holocaust in Germany: that “they” were crazy and the situation was so specific that no rational human being could or would ever do such a thing in history again. But this ignores the fact that the cycle of genocide occurs quite frequently, in multiple cultural contexts, and with fairly predictable contributing forces… ones from which the human race has no innate defense against. We allow ourselves to do this because it is more convenient to dehumanize and to marginalize the “enemy”, not because it is actually a justified assessment.

      That said, when the evidence is clear, we should not be shy in standing up and describing the truth we have found. We should condemn the Holocaust (even as we better understand why and how it took place), just as we condemn all genocide. We should condemn jihadists, just as we examine and condemn religiously motivated violence. However, our condemnation should be specific, precise, and willing to recognize that we too may one day stand under such scrutiny.

      For example, consider the Crusades. I have heard them cited over and over again as a reason why “religion is bad” or why Christians are hypocrites. Speaking today, we may easily say “oh those Christian crazies, we’re not like that any more,” but that ignores or marginalizes a number of reasons as to why… reasons that may be helpful in understanding why religiously motivated violence still continues to happen today.

      2) “and that the battle lines in war are often changed by a simple manipulation of doublespeak.” Your charge that this is nonsense is unfair. I am not saying that all wars are caused by this. I certainly did not imply that this was the case in World War II. In your own comment, you say, “oftentimes there is a clear, moral right side and wrong side.” I fully agree. However, I would say that similarly often there is not, though most of these are smaller conflicts.

      3) “Good grief! It’s a strange day indeed when an article on the Huffington Post makes more moral sense than one on a Christian website.” This is an interesting comment, and I’d like more clarification on what you mean by “moral sense”. I do appreciate your frustration with what appear as logical or moral contradictions in terms, but hope that you can give me the benefit of the doubt in the future and ask for clarifications before quoting Charlie Brown.

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