by Milan Homola
I was recently struck by a quote from Bryan Stevenson’s Just Mercy. The author made a connection between two words that appear incongruous in current American culture – hopefulness and justice:
“I was developing a maturing recognition of the importance of hopefulness in creating Justice.”
A quick scan of prevalent strategies for justice on the part of broad (and admittedly stereotyped) society reveals a quick-to-judge certainty that has little room for the wishful movements of hope. We are made to believe that justice is certain, the determiners of justice have spoken, and we will either affirm or deny their conclusions…no third way.
Current trends might have us believe justice is tangible, clear, and productive. Hope is mysterious and often feels like a last resort. The two concepts don’t belong together, according to conventional messaging; yet if you consider the story of Bryan Stevenson and think deeply about what he has to say in Just Mercy, you will be faced with hard questions about modern social justice.
My aim is to have us consider hope, justice, and how the alignment of the two leads to healthier pursuits of justice in our day.
As stated above, the two appear separated by a large gulf in our American corporate ethos; but a closer look reveals connections between them. For a starting point, let’s consider parenting as a way to see how inseparable hope and justice are. A good parent certainly practices justice in their home with their children, but true justice is rooted to a healthy sense of hope for children. Justice without hope looks like retribution. Hope without justice looks like painful enablement. As a parent I’ve failed many times on one side or the other. When I’ve gotten it right, my hope for the thriving of my children informs how I carry out justice in my home. For example, my hope is that my children will grow up to have meaningful relationships and make an impact in the lives of those around them, so within this hopeful context my wife and I are able to carry out justice when it comes to screen usage. We are also able to have open and hopeful conversations around their choices when it comes to influencers.
Stevenson’s quote caught me off guard; but as I measured it against real life and a biblical worldview, I was more and more inspired by his experience and subsequent summary of it.
Hope
Hope, like love, is in danger of being watered down; in which case we miss the depth God intended for it. Biblically speaking, ‘hope’ relates to faith, God’s promises, along with an eager expectation for a healthy future. Hope surrenders to a reality that is now and not yet. Hope requires vision.
It is also a filter for the filth of the current. It doesn’t overlook or ignore the current. It powerfully transforms current realities via perspective-changing anticipation. It is a lived-out lament of the now that is simultaneously combined with an anticipation of what will be normal in the future.
Justice
Justice, as a word, feels more ominous to define, given our cultural minefields. I don’t intend to debate the necessity of justice or the centrality of justice to God’s character. I’m passionate about debating what we mean by “justice” and, more importantly, how we as followers of Jesus pursue justice in the here and now.
One definition of biblical justice is: “Divinely righteous action, whether taken by humanity or God, that promotes equality among humanity. Used in relation to uplifting the righteous and oppressed and debasing the unrighteous and oppressors” (Lexham Bible Dictionary). The phrases that stand out to me are: “divinely righteous action” and “promotes equality”.
Perspective is crucial. Justice can be distorted if it stems from the wrong place, with the wrong goal in mind, and the wrong source of strength.
Too often the starting place for pursuits of justice, by Christians, are found in the media/literature of influencers who don’t see or disregard altogether God’s constructs for humanity, creation, sin, and righteousness. As followers of Jesus, we must have wisdom to know there are many different influencers and each has their own worldview. The framework with which someone comes at the topic of justice should be questioned and known.
What is the goal/vision of most of the social justice messaging we see and hear in our society today? Honestly, ask yourself that question. One of the most important lessons I learned in graduate school was the practice of taking an idea to its logical conclusion – asking what are the desired outcomes, unintended consequences, etc. that would follow if these strategies were fully played out. Deconstructing without hope, vision, and human dignity is not justice. I love how John Adams, an exemplary founding father of the US system of government, stood for his ideas in the face of so much criticism. One of his regular responses was to point out how easy it was for people to tear things down and conversely how difficult it was to have a vision and build towards it. Both types of people see the same problem and care deeply about justice, but only one will affect real change.
Finally, the source of justice is crucial to get right in order to properly live out today what will be normal in the future. This may be our biggest misstep in current justice strategies. Throughout scripture, the theme is clear: God is the only righteous and loving being to be trusted with true execution of justice. It is hubris to think that we, as individuals, can be the judge, jury, and executioner of justice. This is an argument for surrender, not apathy. Surrender leads to meaningful action in the pursuit of justice. An often quoted justice passage is Isaiah 58, and rightly so. Notice how a lifestyle of justice is surely a centerpiece of the passage, yet we rarely read through to the end of the chapter, where we find important context. It’s actually the strength for living justly: sabbath resting. Sabbath is a surrendering of control. We would do well in our living out of justice to surrender more, rest more, and hope more in the God of justice.
My Experience
I have wrestled in the past 18 months with the general and the particular when it comes to hope and justice. It hit close to home geographically (Minneapolis & Portland), but it also hit close to home personally as a leader in a non-profit that has faced pain, division, and attack. I wanted to share some of my experiential reflections on the matter.
First, hope felt most needed when control seemed most impossible. You really don’t know how much you need hope amidst justice until you are faced with the ugly truth that things and people are not as you assumed. For some of us who naturally think justice is a clear black and white pursuit of the next righteous step, we need to wake up to the real gap between the control we think we have and that which we don’t have.
The loss of control we never really had is a wonderful nudge toward a hope that we desperately need.
When I was faced with pain, attack, betrayal, and self-doubt, I finally started experiencing a better path of justice. Justice was something I hoped for based on a faith that God is just. Justice was not something I could conjure up, logically argue others into believing, or even something I was completely confident I had defined accurately.
Second, there are some justice strategies at play in our cultural moment that are damaging and divisive, especially amongst the body of believers in Jesus Christ. There is a strange dynamic at play and we have to think carefully about the strategies we nod our head at, feel pressured to affirm, and employ ourselves. For example: “silence is violence” is a too-broad brush stroke and should be seen as a power dynamic in and of itself. Jesus spoke nothing of the oppression of Rome on Jewish peasants; Yet his every breath, word, action, inaction was one of justice against Oppression. The people of Jesus’s day could’ve accused him of “silence is violence” because he failed to address Roman oppression verbally and in the timing they wanted. I’m not arguing for unanimity in strategy but only asking that we think critically and build the qualities of dialogue and respectful debate.
Third, if justice looks like divinely righteous actions that promote equality among people then experience tells me that acts of justice are much dirtier and more painful than a social media post or sharing a podcast. Divine righteousness doesn’t pop up overnight and equality is something to be pondered, wrestled with, and filtered through a posture of surrender to the God of equality. The quick, simple strategies of social media may contribute to the arc of justice, but when compared with real opportunities to equitably live out dignifying acts with real people, they are small.
Finally, aside from “hopefulness” and its connection to justice, something else captured me about Stephenson’s quote. Stephenson describes these two concepts in the context of a “developing maturity”. This reference to a journey is significant in the arena of justice and hope. They don’t spring up overnight. One does not suddenly have a complete understanding of justice, how to pursue it, or the necessity of hope. It grows over time. I appreciate this truth about his story. This kind of justice demands experience and reflection over time. I resonate with this and I hope you too will consider the journey of maturing in the connection between hopefulness and justice.
