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A professor I knew once posed the question, “What if we lived in a purely just society?”On a first glance, it seems like a very attractive prospect. Justice, after all, is a good, a virtue. What’s wrong with giving people what they deserve?
My street team and I once met a man at the library, one cold, blustery Saturday. We could tell that he was longing for connection, with his eagerness to immediately jump into conversation with us. He told us a bit about himself—had a son named Michael, a grandchild on the way—and soon, all the hurt that was inflicted on him and the mistakes he made.
He kept saying, amid his confessions, “I’m not a pity pot. I’m not a pity pot.” Then admitted he could never forgive himself for the things he had done.
Our hearts ached as we tried to convey the truth to him, but he wouldn’t accept it. He believed in God, but not in His mercy.
Something does not seem inherently right when even the good of Justice is followed purely and to a T. Nor when the virtue of charity is followed as such, either. How do we react when someone is rewarded for something they were not qualified to earn?
The truth is that we are not meant to function with only one of these virtues. Justice and Charity are two sides of the same coin. Their ultimate fulfillment was in the cross--where the Justice due to God for sin was satisfied, and fulfilling this Justice was the ultimate act of Charity.
Back to the man we met at the library. Because of all the terrible things he had done, he believed that to be unforgiven—including by himself—would be the “just” response to his situation. He refused to receive kindness regarding his circumstances, because he brought these terrible things upon himself, and he needed to deal with them.
But how is it just when it leaves the person more damaged and prone to falling into the same traps as before? Where is virtue and goodness in this?
Les Misérables
In high school, I was obsessed with the book/musical, Victor Hugo's Les Misérables. Aside from the incredible music and obvious Christan symbolism, I see a new wealth of lessons under the surface, now concretized by my experiences in street ministry.
For those who are unfamiliar, the protagonist Jean Valjean is jailed for stealing a loaf of bread to feed his sister’s family. After several attempts to escape, he is imprisoned at the galleys for a total of 19 years, under the scrutiny of a ruthless policeman named Javert. After being released for parole, Valjean’s hardened heart is radically transformed by the mercy of a simple bishop, after the former tried to steal the latter’s silver. What follows in the next 16 years is a game of cat and mouse between Javert and Valjean, with literal and figurative struggles over Justice and Charity between the privileged and the oppressed.
Many of the people I’ve met on the streets have fallen into hard times and have done things they regret. Their circumstances and choices are often all what people see of them. Like Javert in Les Misérables, society pins these less-than-ideal situations and bad choices to the identity of the person. As if these things solely defined the man or woman on the street, as if there wasn’t more to them as a human being and no coming back from their sins.
But Justice, in its right and true form, cannot be separated from Charity. I think ultimately, what is due to the human person—Aquinas' definition of the virtue of Justice— is the recognition of their dignity. How this plays out in individual circumstances varies, and should be well discerned. It is important to recognize and address that actions have consequences, but must not end there. The human person has an end purpose, and to be left to rot away, literally or figuratively, is not spurring them along to their true end: union with God.
The cross is the perfect example of this. As the Easter Vigil Exultet proclaims, “Jesus Christ, for our sake, paid Adam’s debt to the Eternal Father”— performing the ultimate act of Justice—“and, pouring out His own dear blood”— the most perfect act of Charity for the other— “wiped clean the record of our ancient sinfulness.”
Strict and legalistic Justice would result in our eternal death. But Christ fulfilled and went beyond it, paying the cost we could not even pay. We are not called to cast away Justice, but understand that we are called to imitate Christ's act of compassion in addition. What is natural to the human must be elevated by the supernatural.
Hazel Jordan is an Office & Communications Assistant at Our Lady of Lourdes. She is currently pursuing a Master's in Theology at the St. Paul Seminary School of Divinity. A recent graduate of the University of St. Thomas, she continues to be active in the faith community there, leading and developing a street ministry program that forms students to encounter the homeless in the Twin Cities. Among other things, she is a self-taught artist and musician, proudly acquiring graphic design and guitar/songwriting skills!