Do You Really Want Justice?

Article by Shepherd’s Press author Jay Younts

It is an easy thing to demand justice. People want justice. Watch the news, listen to the candidates, listen to your three-year-old — justice matters. But it is wise to be careful of what you ask for. Yes, you want justice, but do you really want justice for yourself? Do you cry out for God to deal with you as your sins deserve with the same intensity that you demand justice from others? Whose justice are we talking about? Does your three-year-old offer an unbiased perspective on justice? Of course, the candidates and the media don’t appear to be any more balanced in their understanding of justice than your unhappy toddler. Similar to Pilate’s question to Jesus, we ask:

 What is justice?

Justice is not determined by soundbites, clever memes, by passionate personal conviction or by the views of a political party. The cry for justice fuels unrest and often ends in violence. In the name of justice much harm occurs — both at home and in the streets. Toddlers, teenagers and spouses all want justice. But whose justice do you want? Do you want to demand that people conform to your understanding of what is just?  Do you want to live in a world where popular opinion determines justice? Or do you have the courage to pursue what God says is justice?

If it is your justice you demand of those you encounter in this life, you will have no peace, no resolution, no satisfaction. Why because very few will agree with you!

There is only one way to truly pursue justice. In Get Wisdom! Ruth Younts defined justice this way: “Justice is measuring everything by God’s law, to know and do what is right.“

This definition is not exactly what people want when they cry out for justice. Typically, justice is measured by what is personally offensive instead of using the law of God as the standard.  But God’s justice is the only justice that can be trusted to be accurate and truly just.  Long ago, Micah spoke the rightness of God’s justice:

He has told you, O man, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love kindness,
and to walk humbly with your God?

Pursue God’s justice. When you are driven by a need to make things right, search your heart. Whose justice do you seek? Humble yourself before God and seek his justice. The pursuit of your justice will only bring bitterness and destroy your relationships with those you love most. Follow God’s justice and know his peace.

Here is a prayer to orient your heart to want and live out God’s just ways:

Father, you are perfectly right in everything you do. Thank you that Jesus was perfectly right and just for me. Help me to act with justice and to walk faithfully in your ways. Help me to love your law and your righteousness. In Jesus’ name, Amen.

Posted at: https://www.shepherdpress.com/do-you-really-want-justice/

You Want a God of Judgment

Article by Derek Rishmawy

Will not a righteous God visit for these things?

Frederick Douglass asks this question in his autobiography after recounting the tragedy of his grandmother’s death. After a lifetime of bondage and servitude to her masters, when she was too old to be of use to them, they callously sent her off to die alone, apart from her family.

Douglass could’ve asked the question, though, at nearly any point in his harrowing story of hope and fortitude amid inhumanity and cruelty. The beatings. The murders. The calculated theft of time, family, and dignity. Since I read his story, that question has been reverberating in my mind.

Will not a righteous God visit for these things?

It continues to echo, though, for more than just the past injustices of American slavery. The crimes and atrocities reported by the 24-hour news cycle—the cycle that threatens to churn up our souls most days—lead me to turn this question over and over again in my mind.

Every headline I read about yet another sexual abuse victim coming forward, testifying to abuse by a major Hollywood mogul. Or worse, by the victim’s famous youth pastor and the church who covered it up.

Will not a righteous God visit for these things?

Every victim of political injustice who makes the nightly news, both abroad and at home.

Will not a righteous God visit for these things?

Every report of a child who has been abused and traumatized in an immigration detention center for the last few years (despite the fact most of us are only hearing about it now).

Will not a righteous God visit for these things?

Every day abortion mills are open in America, legally ending the lives of thousands of unborn children—children never held, never loved, never even given the dignity of a name. Children we never think about because their lives are snuffed out behind closed doors in sterilized rooms with white-gloved hands. Children known only to the all-seeing God.

Will not a righteous God visit for these things?

You know I could go on because you know the crimes, the depredations you can’t think on too long without shutting down for the day. One person captured this feeling well when he tweeted, “Being angry all the time is exhausting and corrosive. Not being angry feels morally irresponsible.”

But while the strain of our anger-inducing media culture affects us all, there is at least one small benefit. We’re finally in a place where we can see the goodness of David’s praise: “God is a righteous judge, and a God who feels indignation every day” (Ps. 7:11).

Righteous God Who Judges

We’re often told our culture doesn’t want an angry God of judgment. This age can’t abide any more teaching on a God full of wrath, who will prepare his weapons for battle with the unrepentant oppressors of God’s people.

But I don’t entirely buy that view. Not when I think of our rage. Not when I think of our righteous anger at injustice. In a world crooked and ruined with rebellion, I think deep down we all know we need a God who “feels indignation every day.” We know it would be a greater tragedy if God never visited for for these things. We would be terrified to discover he was an unrighteous judge who never condemned, never punished, never dealt with the crimes of the world—which is no judge at all.

In a world crooked and ruined with rebellion, I think deep down we all know we need a God who ‘feels indignation every day.’

Isn’t that part of what feeds our anxiety and disquiet? Are we not like Jeremiah, wondering “why does the way of the wicked prosper? Why do all the faithless live at ease?” (Jer. 12:1). Are we not plagued with the suspicion that nothing is ever going to get done? That no matter how we vote, or whom we call, or where we protest, the powerful will keep getting away with it? The violent will keep grinding the weak into the dust? That, even though some get caught, many will still prosper because they know how to game the system and pervert the law? Are not our fears those of the psalmist, who worries the Lord is hiding himself in these times of trouble (Ps. 10:1)?

At these moments our hearts need a God who names, judges, and punishes sin. We need a God to whom we can call, “Arise, O LORD; O God, lift up your hand; forget not the afflicted” (Ps. 10:12)—in confidence that he will answer. We need a God who will eventually visit for these things.

Judgment Deserved

Of course, that’s not the only source of our anxiety and disquiet, is it? Because just as the overwhelming flood of news may fill us with righteous anger at injustice, it also engulfs us with a sense of the thousand different ways we are complicit in injustice.

We might not repeat racist jokes, but we don’t say much when we hear them. We might not traffic sex workers, but we’ve watched porn that does (not to mention its inherently degrading nature). We might not steal from our neighbors, but we keep and spend money on ourselves we know we could give. We are enmeshed, as the Book of Common Prayer says, “in thought, word, and deed, by what we have done, and by what we have left undone.”

Indeed, I have a hunch this nagging sense of culpability is an unspoken motivator behind some of our most frenetic and angry political engagement. Many of us are on a quest—a quest we may not realize or admit—to justify and atone for our unrighteousness. If we can spot the sins and hypocrisies of our neighbors—however subtle to the untrained eye—we must not be guilty of them ourselves. And so we work for the good, not just because it’s right, but because we need to prove to ourselves and the watching world we aren’t complicit. Our very sense of self is on the line.

In the back of our minds, then, the thought that a righteous God will visit for these things isn’t entirely good. We wonder, “If you, O LORD, should mark iniquities, O LORD, who could stand?” (Ps. 130:3).

Here we see the way the old-time gospel of the cross has a word to speak to our conflicted age—an age wavering between outraged and guilty consciences.

Judgment Bearer

This clear word comes to us in the cross and resurrection of Jesus Christ. In the death of the Son, God “condemned sin in the flesh” (Rom. 8:3). By visiting judgment for sin at Calvary, we witness an unveiling of God’s holy will. The cross shows that God forbears human sin because he is patient toward sinners, not ambivalent toward sin (Rom. 3:26). God truly does hate injustice, though he often stays his hand. But we also see that his patience won’t last forever (2 Pet. 3:7–10). We can know a righteous God will visit for these things, because he has visited for these things.

Nevertheless, there is hope to stand on in that day, since in the cross we also learn that “with you there is forgiveness, so that we can, with reverence, serve you” (Ps. 130:4). For those who trust in Christ, he has stood in their place, suffered the condemnation of God, but also has been raised up and vindicated for our justification (Rom. 4:24). There is grace for those who repent and receive Christ by faith; our sins have been forgiven, and we’ve been cleansed from a guilty conscience (Heb. 9:13–14).

The old-time gospel of the cross has a word to speak to our conflicted age—an age wavering between outraged and guilty consciences.

Even more, the gospel of the cross is a massive motivator in the present. For those who persist in oppression and unrighteousness, it stands as a sign of God’s justice: “Turn from your sin before my patience reaches its end, and I come visit for these things.” But it also offers hope: “Turn from your sin, and I will pour my grace on you. Leave your wickedness behind.” Even more, it tells those who work for righteousness: “Keep at it. Walk faithfully with your God and do as much justice as you can, and trust that he will vindicate.” And it frees us from the burden of needing to justify ourselves. Instead, we can simply work to imitate and serve our justice-loving God.

Will not a righteous God visit for these things? we ask.

He did 2,000 years ago, and he will again. Come quickly, Lord Jesus.

Derek Rishmawy is a systematic theology PhD student at Trinity Evangelical Divinity School. He contributes to Christ and Pop Culture, Christianity Today, and writes at his own blog, Reformedish. He also co-hosts a podcast called Mere Fidelity. You can follow him on Twitter.

Article posted at:  https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/article/you-want-god-judgment/

My Confession: Toward A More Balanced Gospel

By Paul David Tripp

I am writing today, on the day following the 50th anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King Jr., because I have a humbling confession to make.

For all of my passion for the gospel of Jesus Christ, which has been accurate and faithful to the best of my ability, the gospel that I have held so dear has been, in reality, a truncated and incomplete gospel.

If you know me, you know that I have invested my life and ministry in teaching, preaching, and writing about the gospel. I have taught that the gospel not only addresses our past forgiveness and our future hope, but also everything we face today. I have talked and written again and again about the “nowism” of the gospel – that is, the right here, right now benefits of the life, death, and resurrection of Jesus.

I have endeavored to hold the gospel as the lens through which we see and understand everything we are dealing with between the “already” of our conversion and the “not yet” of our homegoing. And I have worked to help people see how the gospel sets the everyday agenda for how they see themselves, how they view and relate to others, how they make decisions, and how they live in the place where God has put them.

But as I have taken time to examine the cross of Jesus Christ once again, I have been confronted with a very significant area of personal blindness. I am grieved that it took me so long to see this, while being filled with joy that my patient and faithful Savior did not give up on me, but kept working to open my eyes, soften my heart, and give balance to my gospel voice.

You may be thinking right now, “Paul, I understand your words so far, but I don’t have a clue what you’re talking about!”

Let me explain, by giving you the last chapter first and then unpacking what it means.

THE GOSPEL OF JUSTICE

By God’s grace, I have become deeply persuaded that we cannot celebrate the gospel of God’s grace without being a committed ambassador of the gospel of his justice as well.

From the moment of his very first breath, Jesus marched towards the cross because God is unwilling to compromise his justice in order to deliver his forgiveness. On the cross of forgiveness, even speaking words of forgiveness as he hung in torture, God would not close his eyes to humanity’s incalculable violations of his just requirements in order to extend to us his forgiving and accepting grace.

Jesus never said to the Father, “You know I have lived with these people - they mean well, but they just don’t understand who you are, who they are, and what life is all about. Why don’t we just close our eyes to all of their rebellion, selfishness, pride, idolatry, and inhumanity, act like everything is okay, and welcome them into our family?”

Of course, God would have never have participated in such a negotiation, because he is a perfectly holy God! And if he had, there would have been no need for the penalty-bearing, forgiveness-granting, and acceptance-resulting sacrifice of Jesus on the cross.

Think with me for a moment. Grace is never permissive. Grace never calls wrong right. If wrong were not wrong, there would be no need for grace. Forgiveness always assumes some offense against moral law.

You don’t need to forgive a child for being immature, because immaturity is a normal part of development and not a sin. You don’t have to forgive and elderly person for forgetting, because forgetfulness is a condition of old age and not a sin. You don’t need to seek forgiveness for being for being weak, because weakness is not a sin but an indication of your humanity.

But when someone comes to you to confess wrong against you, you should not say, “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.” Sin is never okay. The person needs to hear you say, “I forgive you,” because communicating forgiveness doesn’t compromise God’s just standard and will help to bring relief to their troubled conscience.

If there is no breaking of God’s just requirements, there is no need for forgiveness. It is vital to recognize and remember that the cross not only extends God’s forgiveness, but it also upholds his justice. On the cross of Jesus Christ, grace and justice kiss. That means we cannot celebrate and proclaim the message of God’s grace while we do what God would never do - close our eyes to the injustice around us. We cannot be comfortable with exegeting his mercy for all people without being an advocate for his justice for all people.

BALANCING THE GOSPEL

By God’s patient grace, I am now convinced that I cannot be a voice for one without being a voice for the other. Sadly, I have preached grace and been silent in the face of injustice. The cross forbids me to close my eyes to any form of injustice, whether personal, corporate, governmental, ecclesiastical, or systemic.

There should be no community that is a more present, active, and vocal advocate for justice than the community that preaches the gospel of the cross of Jesus Christ. But how can we advocate for those with whom we have no functional relationship? How can we stand together when we have let skin color, subculture, or leadership and worship styles separate us? How can we stand for justice when we have let prejudice separate us? How can we understand the travail of others who we are never with, never see, and never hear? How can we stand for justice when, because of prejudice, there are those we will minister to, but whose leadership we wouldn’t serve under, for no other apparent reason than race? How can we advocate for the family when we are a broken and divided spiritual family?

You see, forgiveness is costly, but so is justice. It’s right to say God’s forgiveness drove Jesus to the cross, but we must also say God’s justice drove him there as well. It’s vital that this costly pair be held together and never be allowed to be separate in our hearts or in our daily living. Forgiveness without God’s holy justice makes no sense, and is therefore, cheap, unbiblical forgiveness. And justice that is not dyed with forgiveness will soon degenerate into crushing legalism, functional hatred, and various forms of vengeance.

Let me give you a little context about how God has opened my eyes and convicted my heart. About five years ago, Luella and I began attending Epiphany Fellowship Church in Philadelphia. Epiphany is a multi-cultural, but largely African-American, congregation. We have been blessed to sit under the ministry of Dr. Eric Mason and the young black men he has discipled. Every Sunday, we get the gospel of Jesus Christ up one side and down the other.

But there is something else for which we are grateful. As we have gotten to know and love our black brothers and sisters, we have had our eyes opened and our hearts broken by the things they regularly have to deal with that we will never have to deal with just because of the color of our skin. I have had a dear young brother confess that he was afraid of me because he had grown up afraid of all older white men. I have heard numerous stories of bias in education and the workplace, along with heart-rending stories of excessive, abusive, and demeaning encounters with the police.

I hold no office at Epiphany, nor do I exercise any authority. We are there to soak in the gospel and to serve however we can, but we are so very thankful that God, in patient grace, led us to Epiphany to open our eyes, to convict and enrich our hearts, and to motivate us to live out the gospel in ways that we had not given ourselves to before.

In the last week I have been motivated to write this confession because I am sure that I am not alone. It’s not just that our neighborhoods and schools are racially segregated; our churches are as well. It’s not just that we have failed to speak and to act, but we have failed to speak and act because we have failed to love one another with the same kind of sacrificial love that God has showered down on us. We have been silent as others have been treated in ways we would not want to be treated and have endured what we would never want to endure. We have been comfortable with talking about Christ’s sacrifice for us while being unwilling to make crucial sacrifices for those different than us.

There will be a day when God’s perfect justice will finally roll down and every form of injustice will be piled on the ash heap of his mercy. But that day is not here yet. So, until that day, we have been chosen to be his ambassadors, not only of his forgiveness, but equally of the justice that he was unwilling to compromise in order to deliver his grace to us.

Here is God’s plan for his ambassador children: Between the “already” and the “not yet” God makes his invisible justice visible by sending people of justice to advocate for justice to people who need justice, just as he makes his invisible grace visible, by sending people of grace to give grace to people who need grace.

I am grieved that I have been a vocal and active ambassador of one but not the other. Yet, I am thankful for the insight-giving and convicting ministry of the Holy Spirit, and grateful for God’s forgiving grace as I have begun to make life choices to position myself to do better.

What about you? How balanced has your gospel been? Have you been an advocate for grace, but silent in the face of injustice? Have you been comfortable with the segregation of the Christian community or with subtle personal prejudice? Where is God calling you to confession, repentance, and brand new ways of living?

It is so wonderful and freeing to know that we don’t have to hang our heads in shame or be paralyzed by regret, because Jesus bore our shame and carried our penalty. And the one who forgives us is right now with us to empower us to live in a new way. He is not so uncaring and unkind as to ever call us to a task without going with us and supplying to us every thing we need.

My prayer is that God would grant us the desire and the ability to speak and act as faithfully for this holy justice as we have for his forgiving grace, until that day when the final enemy is under the foot of our Savior and our advocacy and action is no longer needed.

Originally posted at: https://www.paultripp.com/articles/posts/my-confession-toward-a-more-balanced-gospel