We euthanized our psychotic Chinese Algae Eater, Sluggo. The “passing” wasn’t all that traumatic. Justice had to be carried out and we…well, I did it. Euthanized is probably a bit too kind of a word for what happened. What I did was more like execute him. Tried him, found him guilty, and smote him, did I. I “euthanized” the swimming assassin by putting him in a cup of water saturated with baking soda. (The guy at PetSmart informed me, it was the “humane” way to off my criminal). Apparently, the baking soda fills the water with carbon dioxide which puts the fish to sleep. Then, with not enough oxygen he just sleepily rolls over, dead. What I really wanted to do was to throw the $5, little, gill-laden murder against the wall, but I didn’t have the heart.

Let me say, Sluggo was the One Flew Over the Cuckoo’s Nest of fish. He was a nut job in fins. This fish – supposedly very “docile and communal,” so said the tag at the pet store– attacked and killed a number of our other fish. I knew Sluggo was screwy an hour after I got him home. I put him in the tank and he swam in circles. So what? I know swimming in circles doesn’t sound crazy, but don’t picture horizontal circles; this wasn’t the counter-clockwise rotation of water going down the drain. This scaly lunatic swam in vertical circles, like a Ferris Wheel - top to bottom, round and round and round, as fast as he could, chasing his own slimy tail. I’d never seen a fish do this. I’ve seen a lots of fish. I've watched lots of "Shark Week" on Animal Planet and stared at untold gallons of aquarium fish but never, never ever, saw the berserk behavior Sluggo exhibited.

The every-day deranged swimming I could take, but this fish, worth $5 bucks, killed more than $40 worth of my other fish-friends. Where is the justice? (I’m not even going to discuss the “Fish-Jail” where he spent a few days on our kitchen counter.) He was a down right vile fish and needed to be put down. So, we – rather – I did it.

“Sluggo, you’ve been sentenced to death for the murder of two Guppies, two Goramies, two Mollies, and three Neon Tetras. Do you have any last circles to swim or bubbles to make?”
“blub, blub, blub….” Sluggo said with his permenant sinister grin.

So I fished him out, walked him to the “cup,” all the time thinking, “Dead Fish Walking,” placed him in the lethal liquid and it was over in minutes. My aquarium was now a safer place to swim. It was, as all fish hope for, a society where fish can just get along, lay eggs, eat their young – if they wish – or try to raise them. Either way, there would be no more crackbrained Chinese Algae Eater assaults on the innocent.

I’ve considered the implications of my actions over the past few days. My own little Hague set me to considering how much justice I really want in life. It is not always a black and white issue. (Yes, there are many times when wrong needs to be punished. I have children. I believe this with all my heart.) However, I know my own deviant behavior. I know that I have something in common with my crazy fish, we’re both a bit “off.” I don’t always think like a “normal” person. I don’t always act like I should, or even like I want (Paul says something about this in Rom 7). I’m broken, I’m deranged, and the last thing I want in my insanity is justice.

This is one, just one, of the great things about God. Justice isn’t what God gives me. (My immediate existence is proof of that.) Justice is the last thing God wants to meter out to me. Plus, justice isn’t eternal. Justice is one of those things we have to live with until something better comes along, like love. Love and Grace. Those things are eternal. It is love and grace, not justice, that transforms the twisted-ness of insanity into a procession of lucidity. It is grace and love, not justice, that takes the shattered pieces of a life and molds them into a vision of beauty and usefulness. I don’t want justice, at least for myself. I don't want to be condemned, even though I might derserve that. I want, and I desperately need, the love and grace of a merciful God, who is more than willing to withhold justice, in hopes that eventually, I won’t continue swimming in circles.