2 Maccabees 5:1-10: a reflection

1Now about this time Antiochus made his second invasion into Egypt. 2It happened that throughout all the city, for almost forty days, cavalry appeared in the midst of the sky in swift motion, wearing robes woven with gold and carrying spears, equipped with troops for battle— 3drawing swords, squadrons of cavalry in array, encounters and pursuits of both armies, shaking shields, multitudes of lances, throwing of missiles, flashing of golden trappings, and putting on all sorts of armor. 4Therefore everyone prayed that the manifestation might have been given for good. 5When a false rumor had arisen that Antiochus was dead, Jason took not less than a thousand men, and suddenly made an assault upon the city. When those who were on the wall were being routed, and the city was at length nearly taken, Menelaus took refuge in the citadel. 6But Jason slaughtered his own citizens without mercy, not considering that good success against kinsmen is the greatest misfortune, but supposing himself to be setting up trophies over enemies, and not over fellow countrymen. 7He didn’t win control of the government, but receiving shame as the result of his conspiracy, he fled again as a fugitive into the country of the Ammonites. 8At last therefore he met with a miserable end. Having been imprisoned at the court of Aretas the prince of the Arabians, fleeing from city to city, pursued by all men, hated as a rebel against the laws, and abhorred as the executioner of his country and his fellow citizens, he was cast ashore in Egypt. 9He who had driven many from their own country into exile perished in exile, having crossed the sea to the Lacedaemonians, hoping to find shelter there because they were near of kin. 10He who had thrown out a multitude unburied had none to mourn for him. He didn’t have any funeral at all and no place in the tomb of his ancestors.

Jason is a traitor who, grasping for power, slaughtered his own fellow citizens, imagining that victory over his kinsmen was a triumph. And the account traces his end with a kind of grim symmetry. He fled from place to place, hated, pursued, and, the text notes pointedly, he who had driven many from their country into exile perished in exile; and he who had left many unburied had no one to mourn him and no place in his ancestors' tomb.

Notice the poetic justice the passage draws out. Jason did not merely come to a bad end; he came to precisely the end he had inflicted on others. He had exiled people, and he died an exile. He had left the dead unburied, and he himself was left unburied. The very harm he had done to others returned upon him in kind. What he sowed, he reaped.

That is a sober principle that runs through Scripture: we tend to reap what we sow, and the harm we inflict on others has a way of coming back around on us. It is not always so neatly symmetrical, but the warning stands. How we treat others is not consequence-free; the exile we impose, the dishonor we deal out, the harm we do, sets something in motion that can return to our own door. It is a reason to sow mercy rather than harm, kindness rather than cruelty. Consider Jason's fitting end, and ask what you are sowing, because you will reap it. Sow what you would want to reap.

Lord, the harm we do to others has a way of returning on us; Jason exiled many and died in exile. Let that sober me. Keep me from dealing out to others the exile, dishonor, or harm I would not want returned to my own door. Help me sow mercy, kindness, and honor, because I will reap what I sow. Let me sow what I would want to reap.