Since yesterday was tax day, I frequently think back to years in the past when things were much different. When I first started teaching six years ago, I was unaware that my new wages would push me into the next tax bracket, and when I started my paperwork, I was about $500 in arrears. Not really sure how I was going to pay for that, I prayed, and then something very strange and very wonderful happened. A cop showed up at my office at work.
The officer informed me that my vehicle had been involved in an accident. I found that strange and stammered at first, since I was at work and had not left since arriving at 8AM. It turns out that a student, who was 17 at the time, had hit me while backing out of his spot and then tried to flee the scene. The police watched him do it, so when he fled, they caught him, and when he denied it, they pointed out how unlikely it was that he didn't notice when he had pushed my car over two of those concrete parking barriers and shattered my tail light. The officer then tracked me down in my office and came to get me so I could face the facts.
Quickly after that, the boy's father arrived. Since the boy was a minor, he was eager to find a solution that omitted the filing of charges and the filing of a report to his insurance. I told him that I had no other interest other than in setting things right. I took the car to three body shops for quotes and submitted them. He balked to discover that the average estimate (which did not include repainting Car2-D2) amounted to almost $900. I told him that if he felt that was unfair, we could always let his insurance company and the courts handle the matter.
Wisely albeit reluctantly, he offered me $600 for the damages. Wisely and excitedly, I accepted the offer. I met his wife at the bank where they asked me to sign a notarized document that I would settle for this, and then they handed me the cash. I spent some of it at the junkyard to buy a replacement fender and tail light, and then I sent the rest of the money to the IRS for my taxes. God had found a strange way to answer my prayer.
This story illustrates the balance between justice and mercy. Interestingly enough, the father never asked for mercy to completely rob justice. As upset he was to see that my trashy car cost so much to repair, he never asked or expected me to simply ignore it. It was always up to me to press charges, and since the boy was a minor who fled the scene, it could have scarred his record for life. Since the damage didn't really impede the car's function, I didn't need the full amount, and since the rest of the discoloration had nothing to do with the accident, I had no expectation that they should pay to repaint my entire car. The demands of justice were met- a restitution was made that set things right again. The pleas of mercy were heard- I asked for a fair sum to set things right again. Neither of them robbed the other, and the demands of both camps were heard and the only damage to this family was temporary. Besides that, the son learned a lesson, as I am fairsure his father made him work to pay back the money!
Like karma, too many people want the scales to tip always in their favor. They plead for mercy while they exact justice on everyone else. I knew this boy wasn't venom on me. He didn't even know me. I knew $900 was far too much. I let them make me an offer. That it happened to pay not only for the parts but also for my tax indemnity seemed to me an answer to prayer. Granted, I don't want my car hit every year so I can pay my taxes, but this remains to me an interesting personal allegory of justice and mercy, and it showed me that I can temper them both. You see, we often ascribe virtues to ourselves as yet undiscovered, and it's nice to discover sometimes that you really mean it. I was neither ready nor required to simply let it go completely, because that would teach the boy nothing, but I didn't make it arduous either.
Hopefully, he learned to drive better and escaped further problems. I know that I didn't cause any long-term issues that eliminated certain possibilities from his future. If I had pressed charges, he might be serving time in prison, and his parents might loathe me for utilizing the justice system. I made out well, and they were spared exigent consequences. Even the police seemed surprised that I never filed charges. It was too far out, and I knew it was best to seek only the justice that alleviated the current distress. That being done, I had done what was virtuous without harming justice while still attending to the requests of mercy.
In our lives, I think that's something we accept. In our future, I think that's how God handles us. I truly believe that He punishes us as much as He must and blesses us as much as He can. Mercy cannot rob justice, and justice cannot ignore mercy, and this kind of an arrangement satisfies them both. We all pray for mercy, and even I have things that I wish I could erase. I have to live with them, and I thank God that He taught me to be wise enough to stay away from things that would pollute me until death and beyond. I consider it mercy that God made sure that some things passed by me, and even in last year's debacle in August, I know that He might have saved me from some things. I know I have seen a little justice, but I have received far more mercy than I sometimes admit and ever deserve. That is good news.
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