Acts 23:1
And looking intently at the council, Paul said, “Brothers, I have lived my life before God in all good conscience up to this day.” And the high priest Ananias commanded those who stood by him to strike him on the mouth. Then Paul said to him, “God is going to strike you, you whitewashed wall! Are you sitting to judge me according to the law, and yet contrary to the law you order me to be struck?” Those who stood by said, “Would you revile God's high priest?” And Paul said, “I did not know, brothers, that he was the high priest, for it is written, ‘You shall not speak evil of a ruler of your people.’”
Of all the words in common English, there is one I have come to loathe. There is nothing wrong with the word itself. It isn't profane or obscene. There is nothing offensive in the dictionary’s definition of it, but I still detest it. It is a “four-letter-word” but not in the sense of what that usually means. It is not a politically incorrect word for which I would be criticized by the language police.
But I come very close to hating this word. It scratches my eardrums and nearly always makes we wince. Inside I churn and grind my teeth. It just “gets to me.”
Oddly enough the word has a definition most think honorable people would appreciate. I don’t. I feel bad about it because the word fits right into the wheelhouse of our American sense of decency. These days President Obama seems to use it in nearly ever sentence he speaks on the campaign trail. He hopes to secure a second term as president on the strength of this single word.
In the passage from Acts cited above, the word isn't exactly used, but the concept is at the heart of an exchange between St. Paul and the Jewish religious authorities. Paul had an entirely different footing than they did.
Ananias, the high priest, presumed to live on this word, to have it define his life, office, and conduct. With it, Ananias believed he could justify any behavior and exonerate any personal faults of his own just by invoking his own interpretation of it.
St. Paul on the other hand considered the word so toxic that he would use it only when absolutely necessary, and knowing its dangers, just as quickly back away from it.
I went looking through various Bible translations and never found the word used except in a few places with an entirely different meaning—a meaning something like a balmy breeze or a bonny day.
But otherwise, our modern use of it is virtually unknown in the scriptures. The right biblical term would be the word “just.”
But the word I hate is the word “fair.”
President Obama on the other hand, loves it. He adores it. He uses it all the time. The rich have to pay their “fair share.” The little guy has to be given a “fair shot.” More federal regulations will give folks a “fair deal.” You voters are not being given a “fair shake.” You’re being robbed of “fair value.”
Whiners love to claim, “Tain’t fair; tain’t fair; tain’t fair.”
Tain’t fair what the corporations are doing to you. Tain’t fair that someone should have more than you. Tain’t fair that you’re not a winner. Tain’t fair that you don’t get what other people got.
The word “fair” in that spirit means something entirely subjective. Something isn't fair just because I say so. Such “fairness” is one-sided and exactly the opposite of the actual meaning of the word. Fairness used to mean free from bias or injustice. Most griping about fairness today is selfish.
St. Paul got slugged right in the mouth for declaring his innocence against charges made against him. He was accused of speaking against God's Word, God's people, and the temple. When Paul declared his clear conscience, the high priest ordered somebody to belt Paul right in the kisser.
Paul didn’t whine about it. Undoubtedly, he didn’t like it, but you have to look carefully here. Paul didn’t use the law of fairness to defend himself. He didn’t bellyache over his treatment and simply bawl, “Tain’t fair, you bully.”
Notice what the apostle actually does. He uses this lethal weapon of the law—real justice—and gives it back to Ananias in spades, “God is going to strike you, you whitewashed wall.”
It was as though Paul was saying to Ananias; You look fair. You look fine. You look bonny and nice and whitewashed, but you make a perilous choice to mock justice when you can't bear it’s scrutiny on yourself. “Are you sitting to judge me according to the law, and yet contrary to the law you order me to be struck?”
Mind you, Paul was not defending himself with the Law. Paul’s words were not a defense. They were offense. Paul had just said his conscious was clear. “I have lived my life before God in all good conscience.” Paul’s footing was the righteousness of faith in Christ, not righteousness through the law. He didn’t need to plea the law. Paul’s use of the law was the proper use—the exposure of sin even if that sin comes from one holding the highest office in the church.
And yet, when it was pointed out to him even by his opponents that he was bound to show consideration for his rulers, immediately Paul realizes the parallel duty he has to show respect. He quickly retreats from the law, not because he disavows its proper use but because he knows his own vulnerability under the dominion of the law. The apostle knew he had been treated unjustly, but he cares little for that. His conscience before God rests on the merit of Christ in whom he trusts.
But Ananias is a different matter. Here is a man alleging the use of the law without actually knowing it. So, Paul gives him a lesson. He absolutely nails Ananias with the law because that’s what Ananias needed. But Paul knows how quickly and justifiably that same law, like a sin-seeking torpedo can just as quickly turn and seek him out.
That’s why I hate the word “fair.”
Not that there isn't a proper place for evenhandedness, impartiality, and fair dealing in the affairs of men. But we can be all too cavalier with this potent material of the law. When it is used as cover for oneself or as a club against somebody else, it is more dangerous than handling nitroglycerin.
The law kills.
No one ever heard Jesus say, “Tain’t fair!” The opposition, the slander, the abuse against him; the unjust arrest, the maltreatment, the unwarranted verdict, the castigation, the scourging, the cross— Did Jesus ever cry, “Tain’t fair”?
Christ Jesus was the only truly righteous man who ever lived, and he had a right to cry, “Foul!” But He didn’t in order to bear the full force of the law’s condemnation against our sin which He had taken as his own.
That’s why today’s stunted appeals to what is “fair” so often grinds me. For example, if God or man gave me what is really fair, I would be on the receiving end of unspeakably harsh and objective justice. Not that God wouldn’t give me a fair trial. He would.
But I would lose!
And I would receive a whole lot worse than a bloody mouth.
Thank God he is not putting us believers on trial. The verdict is already in. And God's sentence is mercy to us for Christ’s sake. You and I have already received in Christ by our baptism that which is entirely unfair … clemency, kindness, and grace. Let’s not return therefore to invoking a right to fairness in light of that. In short— mercy it isn't fair, but that’s the glory of it.
Meanwhile, I’m convinced the eternal hellish cry of the damned will be, “This ain’t fair!” Oh, no. Justice is indeed fair, eminently fair, and those who invoke it will be getting just what they ask for.
As such, let us not get in the habit of saying here that odious complaint of hell, “Tain’t fair.”
