I know what he did, the guy who got away with it. It was bad. I've yet to run across anyone to defend what he did. He'll pay, says the crowd. But he hasn't paid. And although everything isn't as it once was, it is beginning to look like he might just walk away from this more or less intact.
Not everybody likes the way this is turning out. The climax is rather anticlimactic.
Me? I kind of like the way it turned out. And no, he didn't get off scot free. His life has changed in some major ways that I myself wouldn't want to deal with. I'm glad I'm over here just watching and not over there living in it. But I am relieved that the worst didn't happen. When someone gets the justice for their sins, I get nervous.
You see, I don't want to pay for my sins. We don't know what real justice is, even as we stand around demanding it. I don't want justice, no thank you. I like to see mercy, even when it's just an earthly glimpse that's blurry around the edges. Second chances make me breathe a sigh of relief. I'm living on more second chances than I can count. I'm on second chance infinity.
Jesus is merciful, even while we are far away from asking for mercy. He lets us feel enough pain to make us want to turn away before justice comes down on us. It's like the mercy of pain receptors in our fingers that cause us to pull our hands off of a hot stove. Sure, it hurts. But think of the damage we'd do to ourselves if we didn't hurt.
So I know that pain serves a purpose, and that the wise man turns away from the self-inflicted pain of sin. Still, I rejoice in mercy.
So I'm glad he kind of "got away with it." I'm glad he didn't "get what he deserved." It made me breathe a sigh of relief.
I have no appetite for justice.
Isaiah 55:7 Let the wicked forsake his way and the evil man his thoughts. Let him turn to the LORD, and he will have mercy on him, and to our God, for he will freely pardon.