We so often think of negative consequences or fateful punishment when we hear the word justice. Yet, there is really a neutral feeling to the word and a positive side we can easily overlook.

As definitions in Webster’s Dictionary point out, the doling out of justice may include bestowing merited rewards and showing equal, impartial, and fair treatment to another — no matter who they are. Combining those two meanings, we might also observe that a just person is a person who generously bestows blessings on others all around them, in fair measure and regardless of who those other people may be.

In that regard, justice cannot be administered by someone who is selfish. Indeed, if the vices of greed and self-centeredness grip the mind and heart of the person at hand, he or she will never be able to administer true justice. And so, selfishness can stand as an antonym and a barricade to the presence of justice in a person’s life.

And not just the life of a rich, famous, or powerful person. But also in the lives of common people like you and me. However, since most of the historical records still available to us detail the lives of the rich or the powerful, let us the consider the example of one man who was both, in his time, so that we might consider if his example is worth following.

Though history has preserved it, relatively few people know his name or his story apart from a now somewhat-less-popular Christmas song which combines a 13th century melody with lyrics penned in the 1850s. And his name is something of a tongue twister for England speakers outside of Eastern Europe.

His name was Wenceslas, and he ruled Bohemia (the modern day Czech Republic) as a Duke from the age of 18 until his life was (unjustly) cut short several years later. Only posthumously was he given the title King of Bohemia, the title by which we may have heard his name in the song.

It is a happy, lively tune, telling the tale of a ruler who stopped at nothing to provide for his people, going to personally attend to their needs and show them kindness, no matter how lowly their circumstances might be. In fact, besides the note that he banished his own mother, the former queen regent, soon after he began to rule, we don’t see much sign of him administering justice in a negative sense. It seems he spent the vast majority of his time bestowing goodness and righting wrongs wherever he could.

When Wenceslas began to rule, other leaders in the country insisted that half of the kingdom be given to his younger brother, Boleslaus. This was only fair, after all, and would likely help maintain peace in the land. Interestingly, Boleslaus was not prone to pure justice and was much greedier at his core. Where Wenceslas thrived in his generosity, Boleslaus brewed in his self-centeredness and longed for years to rule it all.

Finally, one September day, Boleslaus carried out a plot with three conspiring noblemen. First, the noblemen all stabbed his brother, and then Boleslaus finished Wenceslas off with a lance — right in the doorway of a church.

There are several ironies in the story. The ending of Wenceslas’ life was gruesome and heartbreaking, yet the tune which commemorates it is so sweet and cheerful. He had the status of a king, but he spent his years giving away his worldly goods, time, and energy to touch the lives of those he ruled. He could have treated some people better than others, but he seems to have had equal care and kindness for every single needy person. And even though his brother wanted only to destroy him, Wenceslas would live on forever in the memories of those who love what is good, in the Spirit of the One he worshipped.

This is justice in us: when we are filled less with ourselves and more with that Spirit, so that we want to bless others in equal measure and our deeds long reep the rewards, even after our earthly life has ended.

To quote the final refrain of the song, “Therefore, Christian men be sure, wealth or rank possessing, ye who now will bless the poor shall yourselves find blessing.” This, too, is justice. Perhaps the sweetest justice of all.

Abducted as a minor, he was carried to a foreign place and enslaved to labor against his will for years. When he found a miraculous way back home, he seized the opportunity and was reunited with his beloved family.

I think now of how he might have fared afterward according to my own culture’s standards.

Many people would have, at the very least, harbored awful feelings towards the people group from that foreign place, despising anyone of their ethnicity and every expression of their culture.

Most people would have just wanted to stay home with their family.

Some people would have become hypervigilant about every possible person who could pose a threat to them or their family at any future point.

And a few people would have raised an army to go back and fight the original captors, demanding retribution for all the damage those people had done.

This young man could have understandably declared his hatred for that people. But he chose instead to return to them with love and communicate that love to them through their very own culture.

He certainly had the chance to stay with his family. But he gave it up, leaving his home behind for the remainder of his life.

He could have lived out his days in fear and paranoia. But he chose instead to walk in paths of faith and trust, exuding a calm and strength that only comes in a life when love has smothered fear.

And, if the records are true and he really came from a noble family, he likely would have been able to raise an army to take across the sea so that he might exact justice on human terms. But he did not, choosing instead to let the Spirit ruling over him do the conquering of hearts and minds.

Last week, we noted how Jael dealt a literal blow of justice upon a threatening enemy. And such violent acts are often what we think of when we consider the word “justice.” Death by some form of bloodiness at its most extreme, sentencing by a judge or other authority at a lesser extreme.

We don’t think of dedicating the rest of one’s life to loving the very people who tried to destroy us as justice. Mercy or grace perhaps. Superhuman ethical perspective perhaps. Taking leave of one’s senses perhaps. But not justice.

But what if, in a different line of thinking, the life of Patrick shows us justice lived out in another way?

What if his ability to love his former enemies and even embrace them as his new, own people was built on a foundation of trusting that God knew what justice was yet needing to be done and that God would do it?

Does it take more courage to violently administer justice or to wait and give one’s enemies the chance to turn and seek forgiveness?

When I look at Patrick’s life, I think of another saint’s admonition, written a few hundred years previously: “Do not be overcome by evil, but overcome evil with good” (Romans 12:21). Indeed, in his calling and his obedience, just as in the life of the Lord he followed, Patrick showed us a different way of honoring justice and ushering in rightness.

She proclaimed words and wisdom from God to discern judgements in various civil cases thousands of years before modern suffragettes would cry out for equal rights.

She led an ancient nation faithfully for decades in the face of unnerving foreign oppression.

And when the time came for her people to overthrow the dominating enemy and her male military commander counterpart refused to believe God’s promise of victory without her auspicious presence by his side in battle, she stood at the peak of a mountain and commanded his troops to rush down that mountain and slaughter every last one of the enemy soldiers.

Then, after it was all over, she sang a beautiful song of triumph long recorded in the annals of history…a song that served as a prelude to forty years of blessed peace for her people.

The limited details of her life and person passed down to us clearly demonstrate the kind of courage that is born when hope incubates in adversity for long spans of time. But the song she sang tells us even more important things about the true meaning of courage itself.

First, true courage is most beautifully displayed and joyfully maintained when it springs from a willing, trusting heart. “When the princes in Israel take the lead, when the people willingly offer themselves – Praise the Lord!” (Judges 5:2 NIV)

Second, true and lasting courage springs from remembering what God has done in the past and believing that He can do other good things now, in our day. “They recite the righteous acts of the Lord, the righteous acts of his warriors in Israel. Then the people of the Lord went down to the city gates.” (Judges 5:11b NIV)

Third, true courage is born out of love for what is good and right, what or who is really worth defending. “So may your enemies perish, O Lord! But may they who love you be like the sun when it rises in its strength.” (Judges 5:31 NIV)

Thank you, God, for reminding us of where true courage is rooted, through the example and words of Deborah, wife of Lapidoth.

Rounding out our month focused on hope: a profile about a seemingly average woman.

She was a faithful wife of many years, a loving mother of two sons, a conscientious worker in her common places of employment, and a devoted church member. She lived her whole life in or near small Kansas towns. And she led a fruitful but humble life that would never earn her wide fame.

Yet, I loved her. I looked forward to any gathering where I would see her, because to see her smile was to see sunshine kiss a face. And hearing her voice was like hearing honey slip over rose petals. It was sweet in its sound, melodic and lilting. But it was even sweeter in the words it carried, filled with hope of what was then good or what would one day be redeemed.

Even the very last time I saw her, before she flew away some years ago, her hope had not dimmed. Though she had lost most or all of her sight to macular degeneration, so that she had to see me with her hands while we talked, and she was leading a very restricted life physically, her mind and hearing were still sharp.

And her voice was still sweet. Still so full of hope. She was wasting away but still being renewed day by day. And the light that glowed from her face and echoed in her voice left me feeling completely at peace.

This was my mother’s aunt, Elizabeth Beeler Trimble.

And I know with joy that one day I will hear her sweet voice again.

I only hope that when my body eventually shuts down to finally run no more, I will still possess all of the hope and even a fraction of the grace that she did…to the very end.

A new year–and a new decade–are upon us. In that light, I want to take time to refocus on what is good, pure, true, lovely, and right.

The word “virtue” may seem antiquated and inapplicable to life in our modern culture. But perhaps that’s why we would benefit from rediscovering the true meaning of life-giving character traits, as they have been exemplified in the lives of real people both past and present.

Therefore, in 2020, I will devote one month of blogging to reflections on each of these virtues: patience, courage, gratitude, purity, sincerity, wisdom, generosity, compassion, hope, justice, diligence, and honor. Reflections will center around personal profiles.

I hope you will join me on this journey and find great encouragement in the weekly offerings ahead.

Happy New Year!

This Sunday’s advent line of blessing is a six-word phrase relatively hidden in the third verse of What Child is This? The more I pondered these six words over the past week, however, the more I considered how they summarize the magnificent combination of grace and truth found in the babe-turned-man born in an obscure town.

Consider…

Be blessed. God invites us to come near, and He asks us to invite Him near as well. He will not force His way into anyone’s heart, though He certainly has the power to do so. He has chosen each of us, and He invites us to choose Him in return. Bless. We can offer that invitation to others, inviting and extending but never forcing or coercing.

Be blessed. The child was born for peasants. For those who have little wealth. For those who are just average, common people. For those who are poor in spirit. For those who are weak and downtrodden. And for those who embrace humility and simplicity. Bless. We who fully except this child and all He stands for will extend His love to all those around us, but especially to the ordinary and the hurting.

Be blessed. He was also born for kings. He is the King of kings, and yet He left the all-powerful halls of Heaven to grow in a womb and place Himself at the mercy of a paranoid monarch. Strange: no struggling peasant family would wish for another mouth to feed, and no prince should ever be born over manure-crusted dirt. Yet, there He was, born for us all…even those of us who are now, by world standards, elite and pampered. Bless. Let us remember that He came for everyone and show His love and kindness to even the “greatest” among us.

Be blessed. Which diety in any religion has every invited the worshippers of that faith to own them? Yet, here we are, being invited to own Him. It implies that we know Him completely and that He knows us completely. It implies that He comes to us and never leaves. It implies that we take a very real and fitting pride in being identified as people who have embraced Him without shame. Bless. He is the only one in the universe who can be owned by so many different hearts without being divided or diminished in any way. In fact, with each heart He enters, His power expressed and manifested in the world only grows for the good of all.

Yes, the good of all. From the greatest to the least and back again.

Yes…let our loving hearts enthrone Him.

One year ago this week, I became an “angel.” (I joined a group that encourages service members who are stationed around the world.) And it just so happens that my first anniversary of angeling lands on Thanksgiving Day itself.

I am indeed thankful, for I can see that lifting the hearts of those brave men and women (and their families too, by extension) has become one of the most rewarding and beautiful parts of my life.

We angels often say that we are blessed a dozen times over (or more) for every letter, card, package, or email we send to our troops. To me, it is a practical picture of the New Testament teaching on generosity: that when we give, it will come back to us–and not just in an equal measure but as an overflowing flood of blessing.

That has been true…even yesterday. Somehow, one of my adoptees had gotten his hands on a Thanksgiving card and he sent it my way, hoping it would reach me in time. When I opened it, my heart filled up and overflowed with happiness when reading the kind words he’d written.

With the most meaningful service, we do not serve and give only because of the blessings we feel and receive in return. But such return blessings do help us feel motivated to keep serving and giving out of far more than just a sense of duty and obligation.

This Thursday, I will pause to be thankful for and pray for my adoptees who are far from their loved ones, in places where they cannot enjoy even that simple pleasure of gazing at marvelously brilliant autumn foliage.

And as I pause to focus very deeply on all the ways I have been blessed, I will ask God to keep showing me where to pour out the renewed blessings in my heart, to shine light in the hard spots and the dark and shadowy places of the world.

NOTE: For more information about how to become an angel of encouragement to deployed troops or how to receive free encouragement as a deployed troop or for a deployed loved one, please visit: www.soldiersangels.org

Over the past few days, I have had one person each day (most of whom I had never met in person before) look me in the eye and say, “Bless you, child.”

(This is not a common experience for me.)

My reply each time, after a moment of surprise, was, “I thank you and receive the blessing.”

Though I look younger than my age, I am no longer mistaken by anyone as a child. But when I received each of those blessings, I was not offended by the wording. Whether I am 40 or 60 or 80 years old, may I always be a child of God, and never too old to notice and receive His blessings!

Noticing the blessings is a lot easier when we hear the words said directly to us. Yet, even if such words are not said directly to us, blessings are spoken all around us every day, if one’s heart will have ears to hear.

So see the genuine smile on a neighbor’s face reflecting goodness…

And feel the wind slip over your skin, reminding you of the gift of life in your lungs…

And hear the sound of a child squealing with laughter where she sits nearby…

And look up to view sunlight in a hundred finely-graded hues, whipped across the sky in glory…

In all these things and more, hear the words in your heart: “Bless you, child.”

And receive each blessing with thanksgiving.

“You are the light of the world… Therefore, let your light shine before all men that they may see your good deeds and glorify your Father who is in heaven.” ~ Jesus (Mt. 5:13-14)

I was invited to shine. But it was not specified at exactly what intensity.

That’s good. Because this little light is not equal to the same type of shining every day.

And that’s okay. Because the people around me, both known and new, may need different types of light.

In that light, here is a prayer for all followers of Him.

Lord Jesus,

You call us to shine. Let us choose to do so from a willing heart.

When another’s heart is bathed in sorrow, let us be a quiet lantern hung by their side, silently and warmly present for them.

When another is searching, weary, doubting, or weak, let us be a candle burning in a window, welcoming and patiently waiting.

When another is trying to rise above troubles and trials, let us be the gentle evening sunlight that works its way through thick clouds after an afternoon thunderstorm, cheering them on until they see Your rainbow.

And when another is overjoyed, let us be brilliant sunshine echoing their praise and delighting in the gift of goodness.

In all these things, let us be more than simply nice, far more than thoughtful. May we be eclipsed in the light of You so You are the One who blesses because it was really You who was shining all along.

Amen.

I love this picture I found through a free wallpaper phone app. Not only does it display an impressive presentation; it also reflects what I want to explore more fully in the next two months.

Before we can effectively and lastingly shine in this old world, we must first be illuminated by Light apart from ourselves.

This is a fundamental, seemingly-elementary thought. Yet, I imagine I am not the only one who needs to ponder it…and come back to be reminded of it time and time again.

There’s a beauty in the heat and vibrant light of the sun, the stars, a candle’s flame, or a campfire. Yet, all of those things will (eventually) burn out.

But there’s also a beauty in the soft glow of the moon, a piece of cold rock which is warmed by and reflects the sun. And, I suppose, something that isn’t on fire of its own making can never be in danger of burning out.

These ponderings remind me of a song I have long loved. I hope that listening to it today will help us consider whether we are more prone to voraciously shine our own light or quietly reflect a Light shining on us.