A radio announcer in Austria locked himself in studio and proceeded to play the song ‘Last Christmas’ by 1980’s band Wham twenty-four times in a row. The one song marathon was halted after a plea from the disc-jockey’s daughter that the song was driving everyone crazy.
The station’s punishment for the George Michael loving perpetrator was to force him to work on Christmas Day and New Year’s Eve. No word was forthcoming about the play list for those two shifts. Maybe they unscrewed the door of the studio or something.
It’s a bit hard to figure out how putting the rogue DJ back in the studio would really stop a repeat offence. That’s the problem with trying to make the punishment fit the crime.
There are two ways of dealing with someone who has committed an offence. One is to sanction them in such a way that they suffer some form of loss, which is deemed as comparable to the seriousness of their crime. Another is to administer discipline in a way that seeks to reform the wrongdoer, producing the fruit of remorse and determination not to offend again. In practice the methods are mixed to varying degrees.
Public outcry when a sentence for a crime seems too lenient often reflects the sentiment that the offender will not suffer enough. It is not usually the desire to see someone reformed that motivates a cry for longer prison sentences.
What about our relationships?
Many of us have relationships that are strained or broken. People have done the wrong thing to us, or by us and we are determined that they will endure consequences.
I’m not referring to the experience of physical or psychological harm from which each of us have the right to remove ourselves from and ensure we are not subjected to again. These are the more minor conflicts that mark the lives of family and friends.
But what are we attempting to achieve through our punishment?
Years and decades of harsh words and frosty attitudes can linger in relationships long after the original offence has occurred. The poison of those attitudes can seep into other relationships. As is noted in a wide variety of expressions, living with the desire to punish others is a poison we drink ourselves in the hope that others will be hurt.
When thinking about the many grievances and hurts I’d like to see returned to others I’m challenged by the encouragement of Paul to forgive inspired by the example of Jesus who forgave those who brought about his death. On the cross Jesus accepted both the guilt of wrongdoing and the judgment that it deserved. There was no judgment left.
Are we trying to help or hurt those who’ve hurt us?
Do we want to see the other/s suffer as we have suffered? When is enough? How does that stop?
Are we attempting to teach them a lesson? What is the lesson? And what will be the sign that it has been learnt?
Jesus bids us seek healing, not dwelling in bitterness.