Raging Mercy
Habakkuk 3:2; Mark 7:6-8; Romans 15:7-13
Robert M Watkins
June 17, 2007
It is one of the most
ironic statements I have ever found within the Bible:
…in wrath may you
remember mercy.
Habakkuk says it in a
bold appeal to the Lord when he knows the Lord is
furious with his people for not living up to the
standards of being God’s people. The prophet says it
as if he were clinging to the last possible hope that
all might not be as dire as it appears. It is kind of
like the neighbor who rolls the car into the driveway
with a bucket and hose, whistling away as she begins
to wash it, all the while, the black, bilious clouds
of a summer storm roll across the horizon. “Oh, it’ll
miss us, sure as thunder.” Crack, boom! The deluge
begins. God has arrived in judgment, and the prophet
makes one final appeal to God’s love as Father of
Israel—your child has fallen away, but do not reject
the child completely.
One of the earliest of
childhood fears is that of losing one’s parents. Watch
a toddler and you can see it. A toddler enjoys the
newfound freedom of having a set of legs that can
actually propel her through the world. She toddles
away from dad in any direction they can find an
avenue. But, invariably, there will come a sudden
stop, a quick glance over her shoulder, and perhaps a
quick dash back to dad’s knees—I
can run away, but I want you right there!
Independence is exciting, but it’s also scary.
All through childhood,
the same scenario gets repeated, but the stakes and
the context keep getting deeper. An elementary age
child will begin to realize that parents are fallible,
therefore, it is all right not to agree with every
word they speak. A child will begin to experiment with
making choices and decisions apart from mom and dad.
Then as adolescence hits—all bets are off! Everything
is open to question and there comes an increase in how
independent a child can be. Soon enough, dad gingerly,
fearfully hands off the keys to the car. But at each
stage in the game, there is still that fear of losing
touch with home base, no matter how vehemently it is
denied. A young person desperately wants freedom, but
at that same time wants to be sure there is a safe
haven waiting.
As the situation
evolves, there is an unspoken question that enters the
consciousness of both parent and child, one we do not
want to admit even exists, yet no matter how hard we
try to shove it into the background, it remains—
How far is
too far?
Is there a breaking
point where things are beyond repair? As we consider
this human conundrum, we need to remember that it
applies also to our relationship with God. Just as
there are rules within every family about what is
acceptable and not so; so, too, those rules exist
within our relationship to God. Through Christ, we
have come to embrace the idea of grace—even though
there are rules, and we will break those rules, there
is also the surety that God will never forsake us.
With Habakkuk, however, the theology is slightly
different. Grace was not a guarantee. The prophet is
working completely within the confines of God’s Law—if
a human being, or a human community, breaks God’s Law,
then judgment is coming. Transgressions beget
punishment. For us, there comes a profound
question--Did Christ rescind the prophet’s view
completely?
Before we answer that
question, let’s state another point about human
families—every family is different. Some families are
stricter than others; some practice more of an open
style with the young folk within them than others;
some are more hands on while others pull back. Kids
notice the difference in codes and buck up when they
encounter the differences at home.
The Pharisees come from
a strict household. The rules exist, therefore, the
rules will be followed. No questions asked. They do
not understand Jesus. He claims to be the Son of God,
yet he seems to ignore everything his heavenly father
ever said. God said what was expected and how it was
to be done. It’s all there in Leviticus. Habakkuk
preached doom because the household of God ignored the
rules and the Eternal Papa was none too thrilled about
it. The Pharisees understood that completely. How
could Jesus say otherwise? And Jesus gets all riled up
and fires off at them that they are nothing but
two-faced hypocrites—they say one thing and do
another! It begins to sound like a very familiar
family fight.
The Pharisees are the
older siblings who assume they’ve got the whole family
dynamic worked out. The problem is that families
rarely stay constant. They shift and change, they grow
and develop—even God’s family. Jesus is the instrument
of change. Where that change comes from is worth
noting. In listening to the gospel of Jesus Christ
closely, it becomes apparent that God actually
listened to the prophet Habakkuk—in the midst of God’s
wrath, God remembered mercy.
The hardest thing any
parent ever faces is dealing with a child in trouble.
It can be a minor infraction or a major failure—the
consequence is the same. In a healthy family, there
comes a problem. On the one hand, the parent is
furious at the child for blowing it; but on the other
hand, the parent wants nothing more than to make it
right without undue pain.
The Pharisees demand
adherence to keeping the rules without exception. A
mistake requires recompense. The Pharisees—the best of
them, at least—recognize the suffering and pain that
comes with punishment, but the hope is that such
suffering will act as a deterrent and everyone will be
better for it. They were great practitioners of the
concept of Tough Love—love that allows failure to be
failure. Rules were broken, justice must prevail. If
someone gets hurt, then they brought it on themselves.
At this spot, we need
to understand what Habakkuk tries to say—Yes, but
please remember to enforce the consequences in love.
Judgment without love is no better than tyranny. What
good does it do to destroy the lost child?
Christ now enters the
discussion with the word “grace.” In its truest form,
grace allows justice to prevail, but also allows the
guilty to continue to exist, which is all Habakkuk
wanted be sure of.
It gets kind of hard to
follow, doesn’t it? But take it right back into the
living room. It becomes a little clearer. Junior sits
before Dad after having wrecked the car because he was
going too fast. It was a $15000 mistake—the car is
shot. Dad has already gone through the “I’ll kill him;
thank God he’s all right; I’ll kill him” inner dialog.
Now it is time to mete out justice. What would you do?
As you all ponder your
answers, here is what God did. God’s people blew it
and still do. No matter how lost they become, there is
no recognition on their part that they have done a
thing wrong, and the trouble keeps compounding. The
world continues to sink more deeply into the mire of
injustice, bloodshed, and apathy. God responded by
sending his Son Jesus Christ into the world.
Inevitably, the world rejected him and killed him. Now
God is faced with a decision—just go ahead and blot
the whole mess out with a flick of the divine thumb or
do something else. God went with the something
else—God offered us grace. Here’s the deal—God raised
Jesus from the dead, ending the power of our own
wickedness to control the fate of the earth. The
choice is now ours to make—accept that gift and change
the way we live, or reject it and face the
consequences.
The Apostle Paul, as he
winds up his letter to the Romans, sees a vision of
what might be—
May
the God of hope fill you with all joy and peace in
believing, so that you may abound in hope by the power
of the Holy Spirit.
God still loves us and
God is still there, but to see it, know it, and feel
it, we have got to change directions.
Look at the situation
in which Habakkuk preached. The Israelites were in
exile—they were lost; they had fallen into
non-being—God allowed them to fall away because that
was the choice they made. Grace offers a way back
home. We have to let go of our pride and our surety
that we know exactly what we are doing, realizing that
we have wound up lost. I am absolutely certain that
Junior in the living room smashed up the car knowing
he knew exactly what he was doing. Now comes the
moment to admit otherwise. There will be a
consequence, but honest confession ensures it will
come in the form of raging mercy.
There is hope for us
all.