“The Lord rewards every man for his righteousness and his faithfulness.” This is a biblical version of the universal belief that good will ultimately triumph over evil. This notion lies at the core of most stories and fairytales; it represents the cherished happy ending when, after all the troubles, challenges, and difficulties, all ends well. There are at least two interconnected reasons why such uplifting narratives are so popular. The first is that, in reality, we often witness the contrary: ruthlessness, dishonesty, exploitation and abuse in various forms appear more effective, triumphant, and successful. Such experiences can be draining and life-sapping, so we require something to help reinforce our resolve to adhere to our values in the hope of the ultimate reward as promised; that is the second reason why moral stories continue to resonate with audiences.
What reward do we expect and hope for while persevering through challenges and difficulties? Specific answers depend on the circumstances, but we can divide them into two main categories. The first springs from our strong instinctive sense of natural justice. We anticipate that any crime, wrongdoing, and malfeasance will be addressed, the proper order restored, and the culprits suitably punished. This robust sense of natural justice has underpinned codified laws for centuries. The Hammurabi Code is among the oldest and most complete written legal codes known to us. Produced nearly four millennia ago, it regulated life in the Babylonian Empire. Scholars argue that it may have influenced the biblical Law of Moses as both share many similarities, exemplified in the notorious rule: “You shall give life for life, eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burn for burn, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.” (Exodus 21:23-25) The second category of the expected reward for “one’s righteousness and faithfulness” is more elusive and nebulous and can take different forms for different people. It can be summarised in this well-known phrase: “And they lived happily ever after.”
Both definitions of the reward for “one’s righteousness and faithfulness” have a strong transactional whiff, something that brought strong criticism from Jesus in today’s gospel: “If you love those who love you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners love those who love them. And if you do good to those who do good to you, what benefit is that to you? For even sinners do the same.” It followed his fabulously demanding challenge: “Love your enemies, do good to those who hate you, bless those who curse you, pray for those who abuse you.” In other words, Jesus called us to rise above natural justice that demands payback in kind. To be Christian is to be Christ-like in our dealings with people, to model our behaviour and attitude on “the Most High, for he is kind to the ungrateful and the evil.”
It’s an impossible thing to do. Customarily, we associate love with strong, positive emotions towards the object of it. In that respect, having such feelings towards someone who has harmed or hurt us is inconceivable. Then, even if we have somehow managed to do so, we would fear exposing ourselves to further abuse or exploitation by the offender; the fear reinforced by the phrase that sounds like a direct invitation to violence: “To one who strikes you on the cheek, offer the other also.” As I said, it’s an impossible thing to do… only if we take today’s gospel in a literal sense. So, what did Jesus actually mean?
We have to come back to natural justice for a moment. In theory, it is supposed to be a retribution equal to the harm caused. In practice, having been hurt and driven by strong negative emotions, we tend to pay back more than we have received; it’s retribution with a punishment on top of that. When both sides react in the same manner – and they usually do – it creates a vicious circle, quickly spiralling out of control, that might lead to dreadful, sometimes even fatal outcomes. It can also leave a long-lasting legacy of hatred, sometimes spanning entire generations. Both sides of the conflict become increasingly entrenched in their respective positions and sense of injustice, and consequently, the matter frequently flares up. Jesus, in today’s gospel, called us to break that vicious cycle, even when we have to do it at personal expense. Why do I have to take the initiative, not the other person? “As you wish that others would do to you, do so to them.” Over the years, I’ve learned that when I swallowed my pride and walked the extra mile to understand my adversary’s position, it usually led to a peaceful solution. That’s the ultimate reward we can get for our efforts: lasting peace.
