Going to Hell for a Few Bags of Chips
Bekah’s was broken into Friday night. Someone took a big rock, threw it through a window, made a mess of things and made away with some bags of potato chips. Cost of the window? Probably $1000. Cost of the chips? A few bucks.
We got it cleaned up and had a great day. Seriously.
But I’ve been reflecting on a conversation I had with someone who works next door. I told her that we were broken into, etc., and she responded with all sincerity, and a profound sense of justice and finality, “They will BURN IN HELL for a few bags of chips!”
Wow. As is all too often typical, I had nothing more than an affirming if non-commital response that probably sounded like, “Heh heh”–which I hope was interpreted as, “I acknowledge your opinion.” But how I wish I would’ve said what I walked away thinking: “Wow, if they’re going to hell for a few bags of chips, what about me, the ‘chief of sinners’?!”
Going to hell for a few bags of chips. Such an intense statement. At first it sounds like the punishment for stealing the chips is that they’re gonna be sent to hell. But really, as I think about it, the power of the statement is in the irony. Apparently they’re going to hell for breaking the window… and the chips are a regrettable trade. “They’re going to hell, and for what — a few lousy bags of chips?!” I mean, the statement just wouldn’t pack the same wallop if it was, “They’re going to hell for a few million dollars.” I mean, there’s no universal “sheesh” after that!
I’m not trying to pick apart her statement as much as use it to call attention to a natural human tendency.
We all have an inner compass that hopes for justice. It’s normal, if not healthy, to desire that criminals be caught, tried, and punished. When we hear of a senseless crime our anger flairs. But self-protection embraces justice as our great defender, and together stands atop the worth of that hateful offender, pushing them down closer to the flames. Clearly set apart. Clearly better than them. We’re not like them.
But, of course, who of us has never been the wrongdoer? And when we do wrong it’s Mercy we cling to. We hope for leniency. But if we suspect that there might NOT be leniency, we start to plan what would be a decent trade. I mean, hey, a few million dollars would make life enjoyable enough that it might counterbalance the dreaded inevitable. At least I’d get me mine.
But a few bags of chips? That would be just plain stupid. So we tell ourselves, If you’re gonna caught, then at least make it a good one. And we cash in our tokens for as much as we can get.
But if there is Mercy we can bring the argument back to center. If there’s mercy we can actually live for good rather than “gettin’ me mine.”
I believe more than ever that God redeems even our worst mistakes and our ugliest evils. I see it in my life and all the time in others’ lives. Because of God’s love for us, he offers redemption for all offenders if they want it. And God’s redemption deals directly with the full nature of the offense; it re-centers the argument on the offense rather than the trade off. He cuts it out at the core.
So, because of redemption, these burglars can go to heaven in spite of breaking that window. They don’t have to be satisfied with a few bags of chips or a few million dollars.
For what it’s worth…
Roger