My brothers and sisters, believers in our glorious Lord Jesus Christ must not show favoritism.

James 2.1

Few Christians would disagree with James’s command. Yet the first-century church struggled to live it out. One of the clearest examples appears in Acts 6. I recently listened to a sermon on this passage presented by a minister in my local congregation. He drew out several familiar lessons from the passage:

- The church has problems.

- Church leaders should focus their time and energy on prayer and ministry of the Word.

- Those who serve the church, even in practical tasks, must be people of godly character.

- When the church follows this pattern, the Word of God continues to spread.

These are all important observations. In fact, I have heard this passage preached many times, and these themes almost always form the outline. Even the headings supplied by the editors of popular Bible translations point readers in this direction:

“The Choosing of the Seven” (NIV, CSB, NASB)

“Seven Chosen to Serve” (RSV, NRSVUE)
“The Word of God Prospered” (MSG)

But there is another sermon in Acts 6 – one that is often untold. It is a sermon about favoritism, justice, and what it takes for the gospel to flourish.

Luke introduces the problem that faced the Jerusalem church this way: “In those days when the number of disciples were increasing, the Hellenistic Jews among them complained against the Hebraic Jews because their widows were being overlooked in the daily distribution of food.” (Acts 6.1). This was not simply an administrative problem. It was a conflict between two cultural groups within the church. The Hebraic Jews spoke mostly Aramaic, or Hebrew, and retained Jewish traditions. In contrast, the Hellenistic Jews embraced Greek culture and language.^[1] Because the ethnic backgrounds of these widows are specifically mentioned in Acts 6, prejudice is a most logical explanation. Though united in Christ, they brought different histories, languages, and cultural experiences into the same community of faith. Whether the neglect resulted from intentional discrimination or unconscious favoritism, one group of vulnerable women consistently received less care than another. That lesson deservers far more attention than it often receives.

Christians are not immune to prejudice. We do not leave every bias behind when we are baptized. We all carry assumptions shaped by our families, cultures, experiences, and communities. Some are conscious; many are not. To imagine that faith automatically erases these deeply rooted patterns of thinking is both unrealistic and spiritually dangerous. If we fail to recognize our own blind spots, they inevitably influence the way we treat others. Diversity within the church then becomes difficult, not because Christ has failed to unite us, but because we have not yet allowed him to transform every part of us. It is only through this transformation that we can truly love our neighbor not just in words but with actions and in truth. (1 John 3.18)

The consequences are real. It is difficult to image that the neglect of the Hellenist widows was intentional. But intent does not erase harm. Implicit bias can wound just as surely as deliberate prejudice. In Acts 6, vulnerable women went hungry. The church’s witness was diminished because some members were not receiving the same care as others.

The church today is not so different. Our congregations can unintentionally reflect the preferences, assumptions, and blind spots of those with the greatest influence. When that happens, people are hurt, the image of God in others is dishonored, and the gospel’s call to love one another loses credibility.

Their response is instructive. The Twelve did not dismiss the complaint or become defensive. They did not accuse the Hellenist believers of being divisive or overly sensitive. They listened. The Hellenist widows were among “the least of these” (Matt 25.40), and the Twelve treated their concerns as worthy of immediate attention.

Their solution is instructive. They recognized that unity is preserved not by ignoring problems but by addressing them with wisdom, humility, and justice. The men chosen were “known to be full of the Spirit and wisdom.” (Acts 6.3). That requirement is frequently emphasized in sermons—and rightly so. But another detail is often passed over: every one of the seven has a Greek name. All likely belonged to the unrepresented group. This tells us that those closest to a problem often have insights that others lack. Those who are affected by a problem should not only be listened to but have a meaningful voice in its solution.

Notice also that these men were chosen by the congregation, not appointed unilaterally by the apostles. This points to an important principle of church life: there is a vital place for the participation of the whole body in decision-making. While church leaders—and especially elders—have God-given responsibilities, it is easy for a clergy-laity hierarchy to develop that sidelines the congregation. This can result from tradition (”that’s the way we’ve always done it”), a lack of trust in the spiritual maturity of members, or even the kind of “lording it over” others that Peter explicitly warns against (1 Peter 5:3).

When this happens, the church falls short of the biblical pattern. The gifts and abilities of its members go unused, the work of the Holy Spirit in the lives of those outside formal leadership goes unrecognized, and believers are deprived of opportunities to serve and grow.

There is an enduring lesson here for the church.

The spread of the Word did not happen apart from confronting injustice within the church. It happened after the church listened to those who had been overlooked, acted with wisdom, and embodied the impartial love of Christ.

^[1] “Who were the Bible’s Hellenistic Jews?”, BibleHub, https://biblehub.com/q/who_were_the_bible’s_hellenistic_jews.htm, last viewed June 23, 2006.

And Jesus came and said to them, “All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age. Matthew 28.18-20

There is a word in theology—hermeneutic—whose importance I am only beginning to understand. A hermeneutic is a method or approach to interpretation. Anyone who reads the Bible does so through some interpretive lens, whether they realize it or not.

I learned to read the Bible through the lens of the Restoration Movement. In that framework, we looked for scriptural patterns that might help restore the New Testament church. Within that perspective, the Great Commission held a central place, and evangelism was understood to be the primary mission of every Christian. When Jesus said, “teaching them to obey everything I have commanded you,” the emphasis was most often placed on teaching new disciples to become evangelistic themselves.

Jesus’ disciples had spent years walking with him—listening to his teaching and watching how he lived. The disciples heard the charge of the Great Commission after they had already been formed by his life and teaching. This suggests that to truly understand the Great Commission, we must understand Jesus — and the “everything” he commanded them.

But what if I set aside that evangelism-centered hermeneutic and begin again with fresh eyes?

From the very beginning of Jesus’ ministry, the disciples recognized Him as the fulfillment of Isaiah’s prophecy: to bring good news to the poor, proclaim freedom for captives, give sight to the blind, release the oppressed, and announce the year of the Lord’s favor (Luke 4:18–21). But what else did they see, hear, and experience?

They heard Jesus teach with remarkable authority and deep knowledge of God. His teachings are impossible to fully summarize, but His parables reveal profound insight into the human heart and the Kingdom of Heaven. In the Sermon on the Mount (Matthew 5–7), He calls His followers to a radically different way of life—marked by humility, mercy, justice, love (even for enemies), and trust in God. This message was countercultural; unlike anything people had heard before. As a result, “the crowds were amazed at his teaching, because he taught as one who had authority, and not as their teachers of the law” (Matthew 7:28–29).

They witnessed transformative healing. Jesus healed paralytics, lepers, the demon-possessed, and those suffering from every kind of disease (Matthew 9:35). They saw His deep compassion and the inseparable connection between His compassion, His teaching, and His healing:

When Jesus landed and saw a large crowd, he had compassion on them, because they were like sheep without a shepherd. So he began to teach them many things. (Mk 6.34)

Jesus went throughout Galilee, teaching, proclaiming, healing every disease and sickness…people brought to him all who were ill with various diseases, those suffering from severe pain, the demon-possessed, those having seizures, and the paralyzed; and he healed them. (Matt 4.23-24)

Jesus went through all the towns and villages, teaching … proclaiming the good news …healing every disease and sickness. when he saw the crowds, he had compassion on them, because they were harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” (Matt 9.35-36)

They also saw Jesus consistently care for those who were marginalized and overlooked. He touched lepers (Matthew 8:1–4), healed Gentiles (Matthew 8:5–13), restored the demon-possessed (Matthew 8:28–34), ate with tax collectors and sinners (Matthew 9:10–13), affirmed women and welcomed children (Luke 7:44–47; Matthew 19:13–15), and showed compassion to widows (Luke 7:12–13). When He sent out the Twelve, He directed them to serve the physically broken, socially excluded, economically vulnerable, and spiritually oppressed (Matthew 10:8).

They watched Him confront religious leaders—exposing hypocrisy (Luke 12:1–3), greed (Luke 11:39), and their neglect of justice, mercy, faithfulness, and love for God (Matthew 23:23; Luke 11:42). Jesus also challenged oppressive systems: condemning those who exploited the vulnerable (Mark 12:40), rebuking traditions that nullified God’s intent (Matthew 15:3–9), clearing the temple of economic and religious corruption (John 2:13–17; Matthew 21:12–13), and healing on the Sabbath in defiance of legalism that valued rule-keeping over human dignity and compassion (Mk 3.1-6).

Through all of this, they learned that Jesus’ life is the model to follow: “I have set you an example that you should do as I have done for you” (John 13:15).

Only after His death and resurrection did Jesus give what we now call the Great Commission. This is significant. When we first understand who Jesus is—His life, His teachings, and His example—we are better equipped to understand the full meaning of that commission. When the Great Commission is treated as primary without that foundation, we risk reducing Jesus to a single dimension. In doing so, we miss the fullness of His life and the depth of what it means to truly follow Him.

In Matthew’s Gospel, Jesus gives us both the Greatest Commandment and the Great Commission—and they are not in competition.

When asked which commandment is the greatest, Jesus replies:

“You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind.” This is the greatest and first commandment. And a second is like it: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself.” On these two commandments hang all the Law and the Prophets.” (Matt. 22:36–40)

Later, after His resurrection, Jesus declares:

“All authority in heaven and on earth has been given to me. Go therefore and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit, and teaching them to obey everything that I have commanded you. And remember, I am with you always, to the end of the age.” (Matt. 28:18–20)

Some perceive a tension between evangelism and justice—between making disciples and loving our neighbors in tangible ways. But Scripture presents no such conflict.

The Great Commission is often cited to emphasize evangelism—the call to make disciples. Other passages echo this missionary heart: Jesus “came to seek and to save the lost” (Luke 19:10). Paul writes, “How can they believe in the one of whom they have not heard? … How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news!” (Rom. 10:14–15). Proclaiming the good news of Jesus is central to Christian faith.

Yet we must ask: What is the good news?

For many conservative evangelicals, the gospel is defined primarily as the message that Jesus died for our sins and calls people to faith, repentance, baptism, and discipleship. Within that framework, justice can seem optional—or at best, secondary to conversion.

But why assume an either/or?

Jesus does not ask us to choose between loving God, loving our neighbor, and making disciples. The Great Commandment and the Great Commission belong together. In fact, in the Commission itself, Jesus commands us to teach disciples “to obey everything I have commanded you.” That includes loving God fully and loving our neighbors as ourselves.

Making disciples and doing justice are not competing missions. They are inseparable expressions of allegiance to Jesus. Love of God fuels proclamation. Love of neighbor shapes how we live that proclamation out in the world.

There is no conflict—only a fuller obedience.

Doing what is right and just is more acceptable to the Lord than sacrifice. Proverbs 21.3

In my previous post, Why “Why” Matters, Part 1, I explored the motives behind our questions and the assumptions we often bring to them. Another important dimension of asking “why” is curiosity — the willingness to think more deeply about a situation. This is crucial for doing justice, because when we ask why thoughtfully, we move beyond surface explanations and begin searching for root causes. This in turn opens the possibility for meaningful and lasting change rather than simple acceptance of things as they appear.

Sermons often focus on general lessons drawn from Scripture, and those lessons are undeniably important. Yet one byproduct is that we tend to hear the same applications repeatedly. Take, for example, the account of the Grecian widows being overlooked in the daily distribution of food. Teaching on this passage typically highlights several elements: the existence of problems even in the early church, the apostles’ prompt and practical response, and the importance of selecting leaders who are “full of faith and the Holy Spirit” (Acts 6:1–6). All of these are valuable insights. What is rarely discussed, however — or even asked — is why the Grecian widows were being overlooked in the first place.

There are additional lessons to consider when we look more closely at the context. Widows in that time were often socially and economically vulnerable. Scripture frequently groups widows with orphans as people in particular need of care and protection (James 1:27; Malachi 3:5). Many widows depended on male relatives for financial support, since property ownership and employment opportunities for women were limited. In this situation, cultural and language differences likely existed between the Hellenistic Jews and the Hebrew Jews, while the church’s primary decision-makers and leaders appear to have been Hebrew Jews.

So why were these widows overlooked?

Was there a culture of favoritism? Scripture reminds us that God shows no favoritism (Rom 2:11) and calls us to act without partiality (1 Tim 5:2). Yet favoritism still happens. Sometimes we unintentionally assign greater importance to certain people. Implicit bias and prejudice exists in all of us, even when we would rather believe we are above them.

Were these widows simply unseen? It may be they were overlooked because those distributing food were not accustomed to noticing them. Perhaps it had become routine, a habit, to meet the needs of the Hebrew widows first, leaving others unintentionally neglected.

Were church leaders unaware of their situation? Jesus describes himself as the Good Shepherd who knows his flock (John 10), and spiritual leaders are called to shepherd in the same attentive way (1 Peter 5:2–4) — aware of people’s needs and responsive to those who are hurting.

Was there actual malice? As uncomfortable as it is to admit, intentional neglect is also possible. Sometimes exclusion happens not accidentally but by choice.

Scripture never tells us exactly why these widows were overlooked. Still, reflecting on the possibilities invites honesty about our own tendencies and helps us examine present realities — both within the church and in our communities. We must not ignore underlying causes, especially those of favoritism, prejudice, bias, and neglect. When we do this and look for quick solutions, we treat only symptoms and perpetuate problems.

Another example is the poor widow who placed two small copper coins into the offering (Gospel of Mark 12:42–44). Jesus drew special attention to her gift:

“Truly I tell you, this poor widow has put more into the treasury than all the others. They all gave out of their wealth; but she, out of her poverty, put in everything — all she had to live on.” (12:43–44)

Sermons typically focus on faith and financial sacrifice in this passage, often assuming that Jesus is primarily praising her generosity. But could there be another way to hear his words — perhaps even as a lament? A deeper question worth asking is: why was she so poor?

Perhaps she had no children or relatives to support her. Perhaps the religious community was helping meet her basic needs. Yet we cannot ignore that just two verses earlier Jesus warns about religious leaders who “devour widows’ houses” (Mark 12:40). That raises an uncomfortable possibility: could her poverty have been connected to systemic exploitation? Was this widow living in poverty because her home was one that was somehow devoured by the teachers of the law?

“Watch out for the teachers of the law [“scribes” NRSVue]. They like to walk around in flowing robes and be greeted with respect in the marketplaces and have the most important seats in the synagogues and the places of honor at banquets. They devour widows’ houses and for a show make lengthy prayers. These men will be punished most severely.” (Mark 12.38-40)

The religious leaders had systems in place whereby they could legally exploit the vulnerable. Bible commentaries suggests several ways this could happen:

· Scribes using their influence when drafting wills or property documents to their own advantage.

· Religious teachers serving as estate trustees while charging excessive fees.

· Foreclosure on widows’ homes when debts could not be repaid.

· Pressure toward “sacrificial giving” that left vulnerable people with little to live on.

· Misuse of Corban (Mark 7:9–13), where money dedicated to the temple became unavailable even for necessary family support. Religious leaders held the designation as irrevocable. The results? The temple would benefit financially, the giver would appear spiritual, but God’s command was broken.

If this widow was caught in such an oppressive system, then simply meeting her immediate needs would not address the deeper problem. Leaving unjust structures untouched only keeps others vulnerable. Jesus’ words often do more than confront individual wrongdoing; they expose broader systemic injustices that harm the weak. As we read Scripture and apply it today, we should have the courage to look beyond the surface of “hot topics” and consider the systems that perpetuate injustice.

Why do you call me ‘Lord, Lord,’ and do not do what I tell you? Luke 6.46 (NRSVue)

Jesus often asked “why.” That question is important because it gets to the origin, the root, the heart of an issue. Asking “why” makes us think. It pushes us to examine our motives, our assumptions, and our actions. It moves us beyond simple answers and invites us to wrestle with more complex realities.

At times, Jesus himself was questioned. Often these questions came from sincere motives. His disciples were sometimes confused or troubled by what he said or did and wanted understanding (Matt. 13:10 — Why do you speak in parables? Matt. 17:10 — Why do the teachers of the law say Elijah must come first? Matt. 17:19 — Why couldn’t we drive it out? John 14:22 — Why can’t I follow you?).

Others questioned Jesus with less sincere motives — driven by pride, self-righteousness, or a desire to criticize rather than learn (Mark 7:5 — Why don’t your disciples follow the tradition of the elders? Luke 6:2 — Why are you doing what is unlawful on the Sabbath?).

Sometimes a question may be sincere yet built on a faulty assumption. We see this when Jesus and his disciples encountered a man born blind. The disciples asked who had sinned — the man or his parents — assuming his blindness must be punishment for sin (John 9:1–3). Jesus corrected their faulty premise. Instead of assigning blame, he pointed to how God’s work would be revealed. This does not dismiss personal responsibility or the reality that sin has consequences. Scripture affirms responsible living (2 Thess. 3:10). But John 9 reminds us that our assumptions are often incomplete or mistaken. Assumptions can grow out of bias, prejudice, misinformation, or overly broad generalizations. When we begin with assumptions, we close our mind to other possible explanations.

It also raises questions about the disciples’ motives. Were they seeking understanding, or simply looking for someone to blame? Jesus helped the man without being asked. There is no indication the disciples intended to help — only to analyze the cause.

That leaves us with some important questions:

· Are we more interested in assigning blame than offering help?

· Do we assume someone’s fault absolves us from responsibility toward them?

· Are we willing to help even when no one has asked?

· Do we look for simple explanations to complex, multi-layered problems?

When Jesus asked “why,” his question often went unanswered. When we hear him ask “why,” we should reflect honestly and answer it ourselves. There are reasons behind what we think, what we do, and why things are the way they are. Only when we understand those reasons can real change begin.

…From everyone to whom much has been given, much will be required, and from the one to whom much has been entrusted, even more will be demanded. (Luke 12.48)

Privilege—just another one of those trigger words. But it doesn’t have to be. A conversation about privilege isn’t about guilt; it’s about awareness. It invites us to recognize the ways we have been advantaged, so that we might use what God has given us as a blessing to others.

When I first encountered the idea of privilege, I understood it narrowly—things like legacy admission to Harvard or being a trust-fund baby. I had neither, so I concluded that I wasn’t privileged. Over time, however, my understanding has changed. Privilege encompasses far more than wealth, ethnicity, or family background. At its core, privilege is an unearned advantage.

Such advantages take many forms: growing up in a loving and stable home, access to good schools, physical or mental health, to name just a few. Privilege can also include character traits—such as resilience or determination—that equip some people to overcome hardships that overwhelm others. Some individuals seem to be born with these traits, others are nurtured into them through encouragement, support, and opportunity, while still others have neither.

One consequence of not recognizing our own privilege is that we may unintentionally assume others are responsible for their difficult circumstances. The story of Job offers a sobering reminder. As Job endured profound suffering—loss, hardship, and deep pain—his friends, who had not shared in his experience, searched for an explanation that placed the burden on Job himself. Yet Job gives voice to a hard truth: “Those who are at ease have contempt for misfortune as the fate of those whose feet are slipping” (Job 12:5). His words invite us to reflect on how easily comfort can dull our compassion and limit our understanding of another’s suffering.

Another consequence can be a quiet hardening of the heart—an unexamined pride or a harshness toward those who are struggling. Scripture gives language to this experience as well: “We have endured no end of ridicule from the arrogant, of contempt from the proud” (Psalm 123:4). And Proverbs observes, “The poor plead for mercy, but the rich answer harshly” (Proverbs 18:23). These passages call us to examine how security and ease shape our responses, and to ask whether our lives reflect the mercy we ourselves have received.

When we live in comfort or security, it becomes easy to minimize the hardships of others—or to assume that they simply failed to overcome. I am reminded of this through the story of Ron McNair, one of the first African American astronauts, who was killed in the Challenger disaster at the age of thirty-five. His accomplishments were extraordinary: he was a scholar, athlete, musician, fifth-degree black belt in karate, and a devoted husband and father. He earned a Ph.D. in physics from MIT at just twenty-six. By any measure, Ron McNair was brilliant.

I feel a personal connection to him. He was only a few years older than I, and we both grew up in small, racially segregated Southern towns—he in South Carolina, I in Florida. Yet that is where our similarities end. One well-documented incident reveals the differences between us. McNair attended racially segregated, inferior schools under South Carolina’s Jim Crow system. At the age of nine, he was denied the right to borrow books from an all-white public library. When the police were called, he refused to leave without the books. Eventually, the librarian relented, and McNair checked them out.

If that had been me, I would have walked away empty-handed. I did not possess, at that age, the confidence, resilience, or inner resolve that Ron McNair demonstrated. I was average. And the truth is, most of us are. I think of how many children—especially children of color—were denied books and denied opportunities to learn at crucial stages of development, not because they lacked intelligence or worth, but because they were average and disadvantaged. We may resist the label, but “average” simply means having qualities that are typical—and that describes most people.

Kent State University’s McNair Scholars Program is “dedicated to the high standards of achievement inspired by Dr. McNair’s life,” and his story is indeed worth reading. https://www.kent.edu/mcnair/life-ronald-e-mcnair Yet the program’s conclusion is deeply troubling: “In his brief but brilliant career, he proved that neither poverty nor discrimination could defeat a determined individual.” While meant to inspire, this statement implies that those who remain trapped in hardship simply lack determination. It overlooks a crucial truth: Ron McNair was exceptional—an outlier. The exceptional should not be held up as an achievable example for the average. When we do this, we risk judging the many by an unfair measure.

Another illustration of what it means to recognize privilege appears in Ian Graham’s book Unbillable Hours. Graham, then a first‑year associate at a major law firm, takes on pro bono work for Mario Rocho, who had been wrongly convicted at sixteen and sentenced to life without parole. Reflecting on their meeting, Graham writes:

“Coming back to Santa Monica, with the sun setting to my left, I felt our meeting had gone well. Mario had made a big impression on me. I was about his age, but in every other way our lives could hardly have been more different. I had arrived at Latham, the big, prestigious law firm, from an affluent neighborhood in Washington, D.C., an elite Quaker high school [Sidwell Friends], Rice University on a baseball scholarship, and the University of Texas Law School, from which, thanks to my parents, I had graduated debt-free. I had pursued a career motivated solely by money, and never given much thought to broader issues of social justice. Mario was at least as bright as I was, very possibly more so. His heart was generous, his interests were wide, and his gift for writing was formidable. But he had grown up in the LA barrio, without the opportunities, benefits, and second chances of a privileged upbringing. I wondered how I would have fared growing up in his world, and he in mine.” (pages 150-151)

Graham’s reflections are thoughtful and perceptive, but it is important to note that Mario was exceptionally gifted—an outlier. What happens to those who find themselves trapped in an unjust legal system, but are not exceptional? What about the “average” or “less than average” individual who grows up in the social equivalent of the LA barrio?

The Apostle Paul tells us to think of ourselves with sober judgment, recognizing our various gifts. (Romans 12.3-6). Sober judgment tells us some of these gifts give us advantages (privilege) not afforded to all.

But let justice roll down like water and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream. (Amos 5.24)

God understands justice, and yet too often Christians do not acknowledge injustice or oppression. Why do we not see? This can be one of those hard questions, like those often asked by Jesus. As unpleasant as it can be, we owe it to God and ourselves to not only ask ourselves the hard questions but to answer them. The Word of God is a mirror of our hearts. It reflects the core of a person’s innermost being – the mind, will, emotions, desire, and conscience. There are many scriptures that help us see heart conditions that hinder an ability to better understand justice. There are so many reasons we simply don’t do justice. Here are three:

A single focus on personal sin

His disciples asked him, “Rabbi, who sinned, this man or his parents, that he was born blind? (John 9.2)

In the time of Jesus, it was widely assumed that illness or poverty was the result of personal sin. Suffering was seen as earned. That same logic echoes in the dominant American ethos of individual responsibility today. The mantra “pull yourself up by your bootstraps” places nearly all responsibility for success or failure on the individual, crowding out any consideration of broader social, economic, or structural forces.

We can acknowledge personal sin and poor decisions without denying the reality of systemic factors beyond an individual’s control. I was reminded of this in a conversation with a young man as we discussed this very issue. He offered the example of a pedestrian struck by a car while crossing the road. In his view, the pedestrian should have been more careful, and the only appropriate response was to provide medical care. What this perspective overlooks are other contributing factors—such as unsafe road design, inadequate crosswalks, or poor visibility. Without attending to these conditions, we may treat the injury, but we do nothing to prevent the next accident. Denying systemic factors of injustice does not end injustice; it assures its continuation.

A settled resistance to wisdom

How long, O simple ones, will you love being simple? How long will scoffers delight in their scoffing and fools hate knowledge? (Prov 1.22)

We have a great deal to say about this, and it is difficult to explain, since you have become too lazy to understand. (Heb 5.11 CSB)

Social issues are often complex, but complexity does not require us to remain ignorant of how people are impacted. The point of these proverbs is not that knowledge is easy, but that people frequently prefer not to pursue it. Scripture names a persistent human tendency: a settled resistance to learning, reflection, and growth.

That posture is best described as complacency. Complacency is not merely a lack of information; it is a satisfaction with the status quo, especially when it is accompanied by an unawareness—or unwillingness to acknowledge—real dangers and deficiencies. It is the quiet confidence that says nothing more is required of us. In this state, we feel so content with our own abilities or perspectives that we see no need to listen more carefully, examine ourselves more honestly, or try any harder.

Such complacency runs directly counter to biblical wisdom. Wisdom calls for humility, self-awareness, and love for others—qualities that require attentiveness and teachability. When we are complacent, we stop asking questions, stop learning, and stop allowing our understanding to be shaped by truth. Proverbs warns that this posture is not neutral; it is a rejection of knowledge itself.

An attachment to dogmatic opinions

“Fools find no pleasure in understanding but delight in airing their own opinions.” (Prov 18.2)

We often grow comfortable with our settled opinions and inherited traditions. Rather than remaining open to examination, we become dismissive of alternative perspectives and resistant to critique. Even when reliable facts or faithful voices challenge our views, our pride urges us to remain unchanged - content to defend what we already believe rather than to seek deeper truth.

The Bible tells us that fools despise wisdom and instruction (Prov 1.7 NRSVue). It is seems that often those with the least understanding are the loudest at voicing ignorance opinions.

A willful ignorance.

Rescue those being led away to death; hold back those staggering toward slaughter. If you say, “But we knew nothing about this,” does not he who weighs the heart perceive it? Does not he who guards your life know it? Will he not repay everyone according to what they have done? (Prov 24.11-12)

I mentioned this in an earlier post: Justice work is not natural for those who do not feel the sting of injustice.

Our communities, however, are often economically and socially segregated. Those of us who live and work in relative comfort can move through life largely insulated from the suffering of others. Distance makes ignorance easy. Like the proverbial “see no evil” monkey, we cover our eyes and ears—not because there is nothing to see, but because seeing would require responsibility. This is not innocent ignorance; it is willful unknowing.

Proverbs confronts precisely this posture. “If you say, ‘But we knew nothing about this,’ does not he who weighs the heart perceive it?” God is not persuaded by claims of ignorance when ignorance itself is chosen. The one who “guards your life” also sees the lives imperiled by injustice and knows whether we have turned away from them. Scripture refuses to separate moral innocence from social location; privilege does not excuse inaction.

The warning is sobering: God “repays everyone according to what they have done.” In this passage, judgment is not only about acts of cruelty but also about failures of courage and compassion. To ignore those being crushed by poverty, exploitation, or neglect is to participate—however quietly—in the conditions that lead them toward ruin. Proverbs insists that faithfulness includes attention, truth-telling, and costly solidarity with those at risk. To look away is itself a moral choice, one that God fully sees.

Let the wise listen and add to their learning… (Proverbs 1.5)

The evil do not understand justice, but those who seek the Lord understand it completely. Prov 28.5 (NRSVue)

Those who seek the Lord understand justice—why is this so? Scripture tells us plainly: “The Lord is a God of justice” (Isaiah 30:18). It follows, then, that genuine understanding of justice begins with seeking God himself. Apart from this grounding, justice for the Christian risks becoming a purely secular pursuit, vulnerable to distortion and misapplication. Paul’s warning in 1 Corinthians 3:18 is instructive here: “the wisdom of this world is foolishness in God’s sight.” Looking back, I realize I spent far too many years engaging social and political issues without first attending to this foundational truth—particularly failing to ask how laws and policies affect people whose experiences and identities differ from my own.

Proverbs 2.9 says “Then you will understand righteousness, justice, and integrity, every good path.” What is written before “then”? What is the precursor to understanding justice? It’s a lot!

- Accepting God’s word

- Storing up God’s commands within

- Turning one’s ear to wisdom

- Applying one’s heart to understanding

- Calling out for insight

- Crying aloud of understanding

- Searching for understanding as for hidden treasure

God’s word is meant to shape how we think. Because spiritual understanding requires intentional effort, it is not surprising that justice has become a widely misunderstood term within the Christian community. When the Church does not teach a biblical understanding of justice, believers can become susceptible to secular frameworks and misleading ideas. Recent conversations with faithful Christians who now experience justice as a trigger word reveal the consequences of this gap in teaching.

Proverbs 28.5 is a promise: if you seek the Lord, you will understand justice. So, what keeps one from being a person with godly understanding of justice? There are many challenging and sobering scriptures which deserve honest personal reflection. I’d like to start with Jesus’ describing four spiritual conditions of people’s hearts. Found in Matthew 13, Jesus says the “good” heart is the one that hears the Word of God and understands it (verse 23). But he also describes the calloused heart, quoting from Isaiah:

“You will be ever hearing but never understanding;

you will be ever seeing but never perceiving.

For this people’s heart has become calloused;

they hardly hear with their ears,

and they have closed their eyes

Otherwise they might see with their eyes,

hear with their ears

understand with their hearts…”

Matt 13.14-15 (Isaiah 6.9-10)

A calloused heart dulls our ability to see and hear. It resists God’s Word and guidance—like Pharaoh in Exodus—and gradually becomes spiritually numb. Empathy fades. Judgment and self-righteousness take its place. A calloused heart cannot understand justice.

No one wants to believe they have a calloused heart. Yet when we consistently fail to see or hear the injustice others endure, the condition of our hearts must be questioned.

We close our eyes. God saw Hagar in her distress (Gen. 16:13). Jesus saw the crowds and understood that they were harassed and helpless (Matt. 9:36). Suffering surrounds us. The question is not whether it exists, but whether we choose to see it. Do we look at people through the eyes of Jesus, or do we turn our eyes away?

Those who give to the poor will lack nothing, but those who close their eyes to them receive many curses. (Prov 28.27)

We close our ears. God hears the desires of the oppressed; He listens to their cries. (Ps 10.17-18). He hears the cries of distress. (Is 5.7) So should we.

Whoever shuts their ears to the cry of the poor will also cry out and not be answered. (Prov 21.13)

Justice does not come naturally to those who have not felt the sting of injustice. Doing justice requires intention. It is rarely easy, comfortable, or convenient. It demands effort—effort to see, effort to hear, effort to respond.

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For the Lord gives wisdom; from his mouth come knowledge and understanding…Proverbs 2.6 (NRSVue)

How should a Christian think about social and political issues? Issues are complex and multi-faceted. People have differing opinions based on their education and experience. We also have our own biases and prejudices which can readily influence these opinions. What is a Christian to think, especially if one has no particular schooling or expertise in a given area? A better question is how should a Christian think?

I’ve come to see that a path more aligned with God’s heart is one in which we take responsibility to pursue knowledge, understanding, and wisdom. A quick reading of Scripture might tempt us to assume these words are redundant, but nothing could be further from the truth. Words matter. Each of these terms carries its own weight and significance. Though knowledge, understanding, and wisdom often appear together in the Bible, they are distinct, and each one invites—and deserves—deeper study.

An intelligent mind acquires knowledge, and the ear of the wise seeks knowledge. (Prov 18.15)

“The Lord is a God of knowledge…” (1 Sam 2.3) and we too are called to be people of knowledge. This should be our starting point —gleaning solid facts and information that form a foundation for understanding. In a world filled with click-bait headlines, polished videos from so-called experts, AI-generated “news,” and inaccurate statements (and if we are honest, outright lies) from public officials, it is essential that we seek out reliable information and verifiable truth. But we do ourselves—and others—a disservice if we stop there. Facts by themselves rarely tell the whole story. I might read, for example, that 35.9 million people in the United States – around 10.6 percent of the population - were living in poverty. But a closer look raises new questions, starting with how poverty is defined. That figure relies on the official poverty measure. If instead I use the Supplemental Poverty Measure—which accounts for taxes, non-cash benefits, and variations in cost of living—the number rises to 43.7 million people, or 12.9% of the population. Whichever definition I choose, the numbers by themselves don’t give the full picture.

After starting with knowledge, we must then add understanding. Understanding is one’s ability to discern the meaning of the knowledge you have. It is not a simple intellectual pursuit. Real understanding goes beyond gathering facts—it asks us to consider the how and the why behind them. In my example, it would mean looking at how people fall into poverty and why such a large percentage of our population fit in this category. God has a lot to say about understanding. True spiritual understanding can only occur when we apply our hearts (Prov 2.2; Isaiah 6.10; Matt 13.15). We can’t simply wait for understanding to arrive on its own; we must pursue it intentionally, engaging not only our minds but also our hearts. The heart is our inner core, the place where our thoughts, desires, motives, and decisions arise. When I seek understanding, I have to examine my motives. Are they pure? Am I genuinely open to new insight, even when it challenges what I thought I already knew? A key concern when thinking about social and political issues is understanding how people are impacted, especially those whose backgrounds and experiences differ from one’s own.

A lack of understanding can easily turn into judgment. I have seen this in myself, especially when encountering cultural practices different from my own, where I have assumed motives that were not mine to assign. On a larger scale, our society regularly does the same, judging entire groups without truly seeing individuals. I greatly appreciate this explanation by Craig Greenfield, who wrote of a young woman living in poverty who made what most would deem to be poor life choices:

“Yes there is individual sin and poor decision-making. Yes there is addiction and abuse and stupidity. But we who are raised in privilege are no more virtuous because we have been handed more tools and resources to deal with the things life throws at us. Sometimes what looks like “choice” is really the only way forward a struggling person can see. Doesn’t make it right, but it makes it understandable.

May your response to those struggling in poverty and injustice today, be the same as that of Jesus – full of grace. “

The blog post is “Jesus, Compassion, and Justice”, Rethinking Your Faith in a Broken World, 14-Day Devotional by Craig Greenfield and can be found at https://www.bible.com/reading-plans/11883-jesus-compassion-and-justice/day/5. It is well worth a read.

Wisdom is the third component mentioned in scripture. Godly wisdom is not dogmatically holding to preconceived opinions or traditions. Instead, it is the skillful application of knowledge and understanding in ways that reflect Jesus and His teachings. Wisdom that comes from God is fundamentally different from the wisdom valued by secular society (1 Cor. 1:20–25). James tells us that godly wisdom is pure, peace-loving, considerate, submissive, full of mercy and good fruit, impartial and sincere. (James 3.17) Contrast this vision of godly wisdom from the rhetoric commonly voiced by those promoting ideas of Christian nationalism regarding immigration, American exceptionalism, criminal justice, political power, and racism, to name a few. Godly wisdom is demonstrated through our actions, not merely our thoughts. We are often tempted to stop at “thinking rightly,” assuming that correct beliefs are enough. But Scripture reminds us that “wisdom is proved right by her deeds” (Matt. 11:19), and, “Who is wise and understanding among you? Let them show it by their good life, by deeds done in the humility that comes from wisdom” (James 3:13).

So back to the original question: how should a Jesus follower think about social and political issues? With knowledge, understanding, and wisdom. And with love (of course), because Christians should do everything in love (1 Cor 16.14).

“Blessed are those who find wisdom,
those who gain understanding,
for she is more profitable than silver
and yields better returns than gold.
She is more precious than rubies;
nothing you desire can compare with her.” Proverbs 3.13-15

For I the Lord love justice…. Isaiah 61.8 (CSB)

I take a divergent path from my usual writings to direct readers to four articles recently shared with me. Timothy Keller’s book, Generous Justice, is one of my most highlighted, underlined, and note-filled books. It was written in 2015, before justice became the polarizing term it is today. In 2020, Dr. Keller wrote a series of four articles for Life in the Gospel. These articles are excellent - relatively succinct, yet deep, on topics of utmost importance to us today. “The Bible and Race,” “The Sin of Racism,” “A Biblical Critique of Secular Justice and Critical Theory,” and “Justice in the Bible” can all be found reached from https://gospelinlife.com/article/justice-in-the-bible/. They are more than worth your time to read and consider.

Dr. Keller states our need for humility and openness to correction in “The Bible and Race.” I believe this posture is crucial for every Christian regarding any social issue.

“It is important to say at the outset, of course, that all of us read the Scripture through the lens of our own culture, which partially distorts our view of its teaching. So when we discuss ‘what the Bible says about race’ we need to do so with humility and openness to correction.”

Racism is a sin. This can be neither overstated nor minimized. In “The Sin of Racism,” Dr. Keller states,

“Biblically, sin is anything that falls short of God’s will and glory, that violates his law and character (1 John 3.4; Romans 3.23). There are at least four ways in which what we will be calling racism is a violation of God’s glory and therefore is a sin. It is sin.”

While I list the four ways here, read Dr. Keller’s explanations in the article. Racism is a sin because of:

- the image of God

- the commandment to love your neighbor

- the new creation

- the gospel of justification by grace through faith alone

In “A Biblical Critique of Secular Justice and Critical Theory”, Dr. Keller gives us an outline of Biblical Justice. His descriptions of these rich; I share the outline to pique your curiosity:

1. Community: Others have a claim on my wealth, so I must give voluntarily.

2. Equity: Everyone must be treated equally and with dignity.

3. Corporate responsibility: I am sometimes responsible for and involved in other people’s sins.

4. Individual responsibility: I am finally responsible for all my sins, but not for all my outcomes.

5. Advocacy: We must have special concern for the poor and the marginalized.

Dr. Keller also provides a biblical analysis of the broad spectrum of secular justice theories and a comparison of biblical justice to these alternatives: (again, just read the article!)

- First, only biblical justice addresses all the concerns of justice found across the fragmented alternate views.

- Second, biblical justice contradicts each of the alternate views neither by dismissing them nor by compromising with them.

- Third, biblical justice has built-in safeguards against domination.

- Fourth, only biblical justice offers a radically subversive understanding of power.

The last article is “Justice in the Bible.” He states:

“Biblical justice is not first of all a set of bullet points or a set of rules and guidelines. It is rooted in the very character of God and it is the outworking of that character, which is never less than just.” [describing the God of Justice]

“These basic themes work themselves out in four facets of biblical justice. Biblical justice is characterized by: radical generosity, universal equality, life-changing advocacy, and asymmetrical responsibility.” [explaining the Four Facets of Justice]

“So how do believers who understand the differences between biblical justice and the secular theories of justice actually take part in efforts against injustice in our society?

They should—” [in Working for Justice]

- Start with the church

- Work in the world

- With hopeful patience

- With informed listening

- Giving clear witness

- Being political but not partisan

- Liberating the conscience

- Going local

- Embracing complexity

- Learning from Christian leaders of color

- Tackling the elephant

- Transforming power

Do yourself a favor and read the articles!

“Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: she and her sisters were arrogant, overfed, and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and the needy…” (Ezekiel 16.49-50)

None of us want to be known for the worst things we’ve done, but that is the story of Sodom. The first description we have of Sodom is that “the people of Sodom were wicked and sinning greatly against the Lord.” (Gen 13.13). There are none of us who are without sin (Prov 20.9), so why does God single out Sodom as being particularly wicked?

The sins of the people of Sodom are truly heinous. Genesis 19 describes the intended homosexual gang rape of visitors of Lot. In an unfathomable act, Lot offers his daughters to the perpetrators as a substitute for the men, to be subjected to the same violent treatment. Any parent – indeed, any person – would read this and be horrified!

There are other sins of Sodom that are also “horrible” to God. Sodom is invoked by Old Testament prophets in highlighting the sins of adultery and idolatry and leading people astray by the spiritual leaders. (Jer 23.14). Also called out are mocking and insulting God’s people (Zeph 2.8-11), oppressing the poor (Amos 4.1-11), the abuse of power (Jer 23.10), and meaningless offerings and worthless assemblies that are a burden to God without righteousness and justice. (Is 1.13)

And the most convicting description of Sodom is found in Ezekiel: “Now this was the sin of your sister Sodom: she and her sisters were arrogant, overfed, and unconcerned; they did not help the poor and the needy. They were haughty and did detestable things before me.” (Ezek 16.49-50)

Arrogant

Overfed

Unconcerned

Did not help the poor and the needy

These are the real sins of Sodom, along with adultery, idolatry, leading people astray, mocking the people of God, oppressing the poor, abusing one’s power, neglecting righteousness and justice, and gang rape.

There is a natural tendency to rank sin, assuming some to be worse than others. We compare the lived consequences of sin (say for example, murder verses gossip) and of course, some cause greater harm. But in God’s eyes, all sin is sin and carries the same spiritual consequence of separation from God. (Is 59.2; Rom 3.23, 6.23) It is easy to read about Sodom in Genesis 19 and take satisfaction that we are not as bad as they were. Although world events of genocide, terrorism, and exploitation remind us of how unchanged we are as a people, individually we can separate our sin from that of the people of Sodom. But if we are honest in self-examination, we have more in common with the people of Sodom than we would like to admit. How different are we really? Many of us are arrogant, with an exaggerated sense of our own importance or abilities. We think we know and are unwilling to learn or be corrected. Many of us are overfed, living in comfort and abundance. And we are unconcerned, demonstrating callousness and a lack of interest. We simply don’t care.

The Bible tells us about “terrible times,” not mentioning what we would consider to be the big sins. What makes terrible times? “People will be lovers of themselves, lovers of money, boastful, proud, abusive, disobedient to their parents, ungrateful, unholy, without love, unforgiving, slanderous, without self-control, brutal, not lovers of the good, treacherous, rash conceited, lovers of pleasure rather than lovers of God – having a form of godliness but denying its power.” Christians are not to be like this. (2 Tim 3.1-5). These are the very sins we minimize and excuse in our own lives and the lives of others, but keep us from caring about others, helping the poor and needy, and doing justice.

Sodom is told to hear the word of the Lord; Gomorrah is told to listen to the instruction of our God. (Is 1.10). And what do they need to hear? What is their instruction?

“Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow.” (Is 1.17)

For all the law can be summarized in one grand statement: “Demonstrate love to your neighbor, even as you care for and love yourself.” (Galatians 5.14 TPT)

In reply to the question asked of him, Jesus tells a parable. Short stories. Simple words. I am continually amazed at Jesus’ teachings, saying so much, so concisely. He could have used generic names for the men in the parable. Instead, Jesus specifies a priest, a Levite and a Samaritan, exposing religious hypocrisy and prejudice. Ironically, the hero of the story is the Samaritan, someone marginalized and scorned as an outcast. The legal expert asked, ‘who is my neighbor?” Jesus turns the question around and asks, “Which of these three do you think was a neighbor to the man who fell into the hands of robbers?”

The REAL question to ask ourselves isn’t “Who is my neighbor?”, but “Am I neighbor?”

The legal expert couldn’t bring himself to say “the Samaritan” - his prejudice wouldn’t allow it. Instead, he said “the one who showed mercy.” Yet Jesus was revealing something far greater: a true neighbor is not defined by labels, heritage, or boundaries, but by a heart moved to compassion. Mercy is the mark of those who belong to God — those who see the hurting and draw near in love. A true neighbor is someone who steps in with mercy when others walk by.

Is it significant that Jesus said the Samaritan had compassion while the legal expert said mercy? I am not a trained Biblical scholar, but I read there is a difference. Compassion in Greek is splagchnizomai, and it means to be moved in the inward parts. It is emotionally motivated; the feeling of love and pity combined with a desire to help. Mercy (Greek eleos) is showing kindness or forgiveness to someone who deserves punishment or is in need. Mercy requires action - action to forgive, help, or relieve suffering. The Samaritan was moved with compassion and, because he had the means, he acted on his desire to help. He showed both compassion and mercy. Jesus tells us to “go and do likewise,” “meaning that we must treat people of other races, nationalities, classes, and groups with the same amount of care, respect, and love that we would give to ourselves or members of our own communities.”[1]

Am I a neighbor? This begs the question: to whom am I a neighbor? The Samaritan came upon the person in need during the course of his travels. A neighbor is anyone we encounter. A problem for us today is that, without intentionality, we limit who we encounter. Many of us live far removed from areas of need with poor physical and economic conditions, lack of community services, underperforming schools, and other characteristics of depressed communities. Consider the places people reside that are removed from society at large such as assisted living communities, nursing homes, homeless shelters, prisons and jails. There are people who will never experience the love of Jesus unless we go to them. These are our mission fields as much as that of a foreign country. How beautiful are the feet of those who bring good news. (Romans 10.15)

Our Father is rich in mercy (Eph 2.4-5) and desires mercy from us, not religious sacrifice. (Matt 9.13) Do we show mercy when we have the means to do so? Do we think of the hurting as suffering image bearers or do we “cross to the other side,” and avoid people in need? Do we have more in common with the priest and Levite, feeling satisfaction in our religion, but blind to the real needs of others? These are hard questions. It is so much easier when we don’t see the oppressed, when we can enjoy our relationship with God in personal convenience and comfort. But ignoring the oppressed doesn’t make us unaccountable. God searches both our hearts and our minds. (Jer 17.10) We cannot close our eyes, living in willful ignorance of the oppressed. “If you say, “But we knew nothing about this,” does not He who weighs the heart perceive it?” (Prov 24.12)

I do not have this all figured out. I am very aware of my shortcomings and daily need for God’s love, grace, and mercy. My intent in sharing these thoughts is to challenge our thinking and our lifestyles to be more reflective of Jesus. When I remember my own need for God, there is no room for judgment of others. “We do not make requests of you because we are righteous, but because of your great mercy.” (Dan 9.18)

[1] “The Sin of Racism,” Timothy Keller, Life in the Gospel, June 2020, https://quarterly.gospelinlife.com/the-sin-of-racism/

For the whole law is fulfilled in one word: “You shall love your neighbor as yourself. Galatians 5.14 (ESV)

The Samaritan

Loving your neighbor begins with getting to know the people around you. We’re meant to be a presence in our communities— where we are known and know others. It doesn’t happen by accident; it takes effort and intention.

But loving your neighbor is so much more. We are called to love our neighbor as ourselves. (Luke 10.27) This is giving the practical help and assistance to someone in need - physical, spiritual, financial –that you would want to receive. Love is putting the needs of someone else above your own (Phil 2.3-4). This kind of love is sacrificial, inconvenient, and risky. The Samaritan shows us what this looks like.

But a Samaritan on his journey came up to him, and when he saw the man, he had compassion. He went over to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on olive oil and wine. Then he put him on his own animal, brought him to an inn, and took care of him. The next day he took out two denarii, gave them to the innkeeper, and said, ‘Take care of him. When I come back I’ll reimburse you for whatever extra you spend.’ (Luke 10.33-35)

The real difference between the Samaritan and the two religious leaders was the state of their hearts. When the Samaritan saw the man, his heart led him to have compassion.
There are two essential components to compassion. The first is empathy, the ability to understand and share the feelings of another. The second is combining empathy with the desire to help or relieve one’s suffering. Jesus lived this, always acting upon empathy. When Jesus saw the crowds, it was through eyes of compassion. He saw they needed help and guidance, that they were “harassed and helpless, like sheep without a shepherd.” Because of his compassion, he taught the people (Mark 6.34), healed the sick (Matt 14.14), gave sight to the blind (Matt 20.34), and provided for physical, immediate needs (Matt 15.32 and Mark 8.2). One of the most moving stories Jesus told is that of the father’s compassion in the parable of the prodigal son. Jesus describes the extreme disrespect, folly, and wastefulness of the son. And yet the father is filled with compassion when his son returns, despite the deep personal pain the son’s actions would have caused. (Luke 15.20). When we’re wounded by another’s actions, compassion rarely comes instinctively. It is even harder when we can’t relate or have little in common with someone. Different personalities, backgrounds, cultures, education, and economic situations are among the many factors that hinder our understanding of others and even lead us to judge them unfairly. As Jesus followers, chosen by God, holy and dearly loved, we are to put on a heart of compassion. (Col 3.12 NASB) Thankfully, we are not reliant on our own abilities, but instead can depend on our loving Father, who continually works in our lives so that we may reflect the love of Jesus. As is written in Ezekiel 36.26, “I will give you a new heart and put a new spirit in you; I will remove from you your heart of stone and give you a heart of flesh.”

Years ago, there was the trendy “WWJD,” popular on bracelets and in youth ministries. It was meant to prompt a Christian to think of what Jesus would do in a given situation and imitate him. The Golden Rule may not be trendy, but it should be the guide for our actions. “So in everything, do to others what you would have them do to you, for this sums up the Law and the Prophets.” (Matt 7.12). What would be loving to me if I were in a given situation? How would I want to be treated? A few practical examples:

- How would I want to be treated if I was a foreigner?

- If I was an undocumented immigrant?

- If I was incarcerated?

- If I was homeless?

- If I had a drug or alcohol addiction?

- If I was emotionally unwell?

- If I was LQBTQ?

- If I was without health insurance?

- If I had no father or parents?

- If I was a person of color?

- If I was . . .?

Doing to others what you would want them to do to you obviously applies to our treatment of individuals. I venture to say it also applies to our consideration of political/social issues. Jesus followers are to do everything in love (1 Cor 16.14). Everything. Issues are complex, but our pursuit of knowledge should begin with viewing issues through eyes and hearts of love. When we speak from knowledge but lack love, our words sound empty—like a resounding gong or clanging cymbal. (1 Cor 13.1-2) Our priority in learning should be how people are affected, especially the poor, vulnerable, marginalized. A policy that benefits me but harms my neighbor should be approached with careful moral discernment. If we dogmatically take stands on issues with a seeming disregard of the impact policies have on others, we are not loving our neighbor the way Jesus calls us to.

Loving your neighbor as yourself is the heart of doing justice. It refuses to look away from the suffering of others. It calls us to care and have compassion, upholding the dignity of every person made in God’s image.

For the entire law is fulfilled in keeping this one command: “Love your neighbor as yourself. Galatians 5.14 (NIV)

The Priest and Levite

In Jesus’ time, Levites and priests were religious officials by birthright, set apart for religious service. These were the people one would expect to be the most helpful and kind, but this wasn’t the case. Jesus tells us they both saw the man who was beaten and left for dead but passed by on the other side. They ignored him.

Why would they do this? Jesus doesn’t explain their motives, so I will speculate as to possible reasons. Any of these should give us pause to consider our heart and actions towards those in need.

Personal Safety - The road from Jerusalem to Jericho was notoriously dangerous. Therobbers could be hiding, ready to rob and beat the priest or Levite if they stopped to help. They may have felt a reasonable fear for their personal safety.

Blame – Although the area was known to be dangerous, both the priest and Levite traveled unscathed. Did they think the man was in some way irresponsible and at fault for his troubles?

Inconvenience - Perhaps they were busy and thought they didn’t have time. They might have had an important appointment and didn’t want to be late. Maybe they felt inadequate, believing they didn’t have the means or ability to help. Or perhaps they simply were selfish or lazy. The needs of others seldom arise at convenient times.

Religion – The man had been beaten badly; he was half dead. The priest or Levite might have been concerned they would be ceremoniously defiled if they touched him, precluding them from carrying out their religious duties. How ironic if their religion was the very thing that stopped them from acting on behalf of someone in need.

These reasons may explain - but do not justify - their inaction. Jesus apparently thought any reason was irrelevant to the point of the parable. Sometimes our reasons do not excuse our inaction.

Some questions I ask myself: Do I blame others for their predicament and then think this absolves me from caring? Do I place more value on religious doctrine (or religious traditions) than I do helping those in need? Do I let intellectual reasoning talk me out of caring for others? Sadly, I have been guilty of these. But as always, the scriptures provide guidance as I consider these questions.

…in humility consider others as more important than yourselves. Everyone should look not to his own interests, but rather to the interests of others. (Phil 2.3-4 CSB)

Those who are at ease have contempt for misfortune as the fate of those whose feet are slipping. (Job 12.5 NIV).

“Woe to you, teachers of the law and Pharisees, you hypocrites! You give a tenth of your spices—mint, dill and cumin. But you have neglected the more important matters of the law—justice, mercy and faithfulness. You should have practiced the latter, without neglecting the former. (Matt 23.23 NIV)

For the whole law is fulfilled in one statement: “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Galatians 5.14 (CSB)

Justice is all about how people are treated. If this is true (and it is), what standard are we to use in our treatment of others? Jesus gives us a clear answer to this question, but I fear we have missed it. How is it that we can read the Bible over the years, see some of the same verses often enough to readily quote them, and yet the depth of their meanings just doesn’t resonate? Familiarity can lull us to sleep spiritually, as we skim over simple verses with silent assent. This is a good time to reconsider the implications and applications of the Parable of the Good Samaritan (Luke 10.25-37) and the Golden Rule (Matt 7.12).

Unequivocally, loving God and loving your neighbor as yourself are the greatest commandments. Therefore, loving God and loving your neighbor as yourself must be the umbrella over everything we are, everything we think, everything we say, everything we do. I ask myself, do my beliefs, opinions, and viewpoints reflect my love for God and for loving people as myself? Are they reflective of me as a Christian or more reflective of society and me as an American?

I’ve considered myself to be a (relatively) loving person. But I’ve come to realize that my application of the teaching in Luke 10 and Matthew 7 over the years has been dismally shortsighted. Reading these scriptures anew have helped me to look more closely at the individuals in these passages.

The Expert in the Law

Why did the legal expert even ask the question, “And who is my neighbor?” Luke specifically records that he did this to test Jesus and because he wanted to justify himself.

It is significant that his motive was not sincere. Sincere questions mean we are listening and considering the reply. It means we are willing to challenge our beliefs and understandings, that we are open to reason and changing our opinions. The legal expert sought validation of his viewpoint, relying on his religious training and traditions. He did not inquire of Jesus in humility and a posture to learn. Contrast this with the posture of the Ethiopian eunuch in Acts 8.30-31.

My inquires need to be made in humility and a posture to learn, whether I am asking God or a Jesus follower.

The legal expert wanted to be seen as righteous, so he needed to meet the perceived requirements of the law. He needed Jesus to define “neighbor” very narrowly, to limit the application to something personally manageable. I’ve done this. I’ve looked only to those in my immediate circle (classmates, coworkers, people who lived close by in my small community) and have felt good about my treatment of these people.

Who do we consider to be a neighbor? Those we encounter during the normal course of life generally fit the bill. This is convenient and safe and akin to the thinking of the legal expert. But this is not how Jesus defined neighbor. Instead of limiting the application, Jesus expands it, showing us that a neighbor is anyone in need, someone you don’t even know. The implication of an expanded definition is that we must consider the lives of others we may not normally consider. My neighbor is not limited to those people within a convenient inner circle of acquaintances or those with whom I have things in common. A neighbor can be of a different religion, ethnicity, political persuasion, cultural identity, in any life circumstance. A neighbor can be anyone.

The righteous care about justice for the poor, but the wicked have no such concern. Proverbs 29.7 (NIV)

Do not withhold good from whom it due, when it is in your power to act. Proverbs 3.27 (NIV)

Doing justice is hard. Systemic injustice is complicated. The needs of the hurting can be staggering. Where do we start? What should we do when we feel forced to choose between many good options? How do we decide when the needs outweigh our limited resources? We can feel overwhelmed and perplexed, even discouraged. We can get paralyzed and do nothing, or we be left dissatisfied by what feels like insignificant efforts. I’ve been there.

Do you have a favorite Jesus story? The woman anointing Jesus with oil has become one of mine. Her simple act carries profound lessons for us, addressing the thoughts and emotions that hinder our doing justice. Take a moment to read about her in Mark 14.3-9:

While he was in Bethany, reclining at the table in the home of Simon the Leper, a woman came with an alabaster jar and poured the perfume on his head. Some of those present were saying indignantly to one another, “Why this waste of perfume? It could have been sold for more than a year’s wages and the money given to the poor.” And they rebuked her harshly. “Leave her alone,” said Jesus. “Why are you bothering her? She has done a beautiful thing to me. The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me. She did what she could. She poured perfume on my body beforehand to prepare for my burial. Truly I tell you, wherever the gospel is preached throughout the world, what she has done will also be told, in memory of her.”

Doing justice should not be a burden. Jesus’ way is easy and light. (Matt 11.30). When it becomes a hardship, there is something wrong. I have found great comfort in Jesus’ defense of the woman, “She did what she could.” The question to ask ourselves is “What can I do?”

The resources

Resources can be our time and money, our talents and abilities, professional opportunities, networking connections. This woman was blessed with expensive perfume, and she used her treasure to honor Jesus. And yet, her primary resource was her love and care. I have been guilty of not knowing what to say or do, so I said or did nothing. What a grievous error! We can always care! The simple act of asking how a person is doing in the face of injustice goes a long way. (2 Cor 7.7). We underestimate the significance of simply caring and praying for others. (2 Cor 1.11). Sometimes that is all we can do.

What resources do you have? What “wealth” has God entrusted you with? (Matt 25.14-15). The temptation for those with resources is to not recognize and use them. Those with limited resources can feel guilty for not doing more. Instead, we should think of ourselves with sober judgement (Romans 12.3) and do some honest self-evaluation. It helps when we remember that our loving God is fair. He considers the abilities of each of us, without comparing us one to another. (Gal 6.4) We may be at different stages of life. We may not have the same resources. But we can all care. We can all pray. And many of us can do much more.

The haters

It was a simple act, motivated by love and gratitude, but it subjected her to hypocritical derision and verbal abuse. I wonder what the rationale was of those who rebuked her. It is possible their concern for the poor was sincere; however, their harsh treatment suggests a less benevolent motive.

Jesus tells them, “The poor you will always have with you.” This is an important acknowledgment of reality. We will not solve all the world’s problems. Sadly, there are those who use this as an excuse to justify their lack of concern or involvement in the care of others. But the goal isn’t always to solve the problems of the world (I wish we could!). The goal is do justice - to care about people the way God does; to help those we are able, however we can.

The unnamed

We may not know her name, but we know her story. God assumes we give to the needy. Are we okay with not receiving recognition? We don’t have to be famous or have an important position. In fact, we can be a nobody in the eyes of the world. God knows who we are. God sees what we do. (Matt 6.2-4)

The sacrifice

The perfume was expensive. Her act came at great personal sacrifice. It cost her. Doing justice costs us in time, in money, in self-denial. I’ve never known doing justice – in any form – to be convenient, easy, or comfortable.

The impact

Her act moved the heart of the Son of God! Seemingly small acts of service are beautiful in the sight of God. Big acts of justice are wonderful, but doing justice is hindered if we are waiting to do something big. Jesus always honored what looks to us to be a small thing. We should never think of ourselves as unimportant or our work as insignificant. God is there, waiting to fulfill our every desire to do good and our work prompted by faith. (2 Thes 1.11)

The beauty of this story rests in its ending, where Jesus says, “She did what she could”. God expects us to do what we can, but that is all he expects. Nothing more; nothing less.

He began by saying to them, “Today this scripture is fulfilled in your hearing.” Luke 4.21 (NIV)

When Jesus spoke to the Jews of his time, he was talking to people who knew the tenets of the Old Testament. Doing justice was more than a familiar teaching to them; doing justice was ingrained in their understanding of God. When Jesus mentions justice, the people would already understand its significance. This is important for us to understand because there is not an extensive explanation of justice recorded in the gospels. It is a mistake if we take this to imply that doing justice is not important for the Christian today. Justice is defined in the Old Testament. We see it lived out in the life of Jesus. Jesus does not abolish the law; he fulfills the law. (Matt 5.17) Jesus’ scathing rebuke of the Pharisees for their neglect speaks to the seriousness of doing justice. (Matt 23.23)

Starting with John the Baptist, the forerunner of Jesus, we hear a message of justice. When the listening crowd asks what they should do, he addresses the current issues and practices that affect the people. He tells them to share clothes and food with those who have none. Tax collectors are told to not collect any more than required; soldiers are not to extort money and accuse people falsely. He calls out rulers for abusing their power at the expense of the vulnerable. He addresses the selfishness and greed that is a root of oppression. (Luke 3.7-14)

Justice is also at the very beginning of the ministry of Jesus, who is the fulfillment of this prophesy in Isaiah:

“The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has appointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” (Luke 4.18-21)

We readily think of Jesus feeding the hungry and healing the sick, but a deeper look at his interactions with people shows that doing justice was Jesus’ lifestyle, not occasional events. He was always about “making wrong things right”.

Jesus crossed social, cultural, gender, and racial/ethnic boundaries as he ministered to the Samaritan woman at the well (John 6.4-26), healed a Greek woman’s daughter (Mark 8.24-30) and entered the home of a Roman centurion (a Gentile) and healed his servant (Matt 8.5-13).

The woman subject to bleeding was not only healed by Jesus, but he publicly restored her dignity and removed her shame. (Mark 5.25-33). By allowing the bleeding woman to touch him, Jesus challenged the purity system of His day. Jesus showed this same compassion when he used physical touch while healing one with leprosy, a person denied this simple comfort under rabbinical law (Matt 8.3).

Jesus upended social hierarchies. He spoke on behalf of those who were mistreated, those with little to no status, including women and children (Mark 10.13-14 and 14.6). He brought dignity to those whose lifestyles brought reproach or shame. (see John 8.1-11, the woman caught in adultery; Luke 19.1-10, Zaccheus the tax collector; Mark 5.1-20, the demon-possessed; Lev 13.45-46 and Luke 5.12-13, those considered “unclean”). These people were often feared, isolated, or excluded from their community.

In addition to the individuals he helped, Jesus challenged the systemic injustices perpetrated by the authorities. He rebuked the religious elite for their hypocrisy and burdensome legalism (Matt 23). In clearing the temple, he disrupted the temple economy

and confronted the economic exploitation of the poor.

The Bible records this prophesy about Jesus from the book of Isaiah:

… I will put my Spirit on him, and he will proclaim justice to the nations…

A bruised reed he will not break, and a smoldering wick he will not snuff out,

till he has brought justice through to victory. (Matt 12.18,20)

Reeds and candles were common in Jesus’ time. Reeds that were bruised were simply thrown away. Bruised reeds and smoldering wicks represent people who are hurt or otherwise damaged, viewed as having little value. That these would not be broken or snuffed out by Jesus symbolizes his gentleness and care for the weak.

Who are the people today that are feared, isolated or excluded from our communities? Who are the “others” and those considered “less than”? These are the very people to whom Jesus ministered. He returned them to their rightful place as image-bearers, and he shows us that God’s holiness heals rather than excludes.

So God created mankind in his own image… Genesis 1.27 (NIV)

We are – each of us – made in God’s image. Christians have a unique opportunity to be transformed into the image of Jesus. Who we are, how we think, what we do should reflect Christ as our personal understanding of Jesus evolves. (2 Cor 3.18) People should be able to look at our lives – how we live and how we treat others - and have a better understanding of God. As image bearers, we want to portray God in a true light.

God is perfect. He reflects everything good, in perfect balance. Thousands of books have been written about the qualities of God, and we can spend our entire lives learning about him. But for the sake of simplicity, when you think of God, which of his innumerable qualities come to mind? Naming only a few, God is holy, merciful, and compassionate; he is full of truth; he is wise and understanding and forgiving. But also, God is a God of justice. Justice is central to his identity and a source of hope for believers. (Isaiah 30.18) Jesus demonstrated God’s justice while he walked this earth as the exact representation of God. (Heb 1.3)

The call for Christians is to strive to live out all of God’s attributes. As image bearers, there is no place for picking and choosing. God’s qualities are not in competition with one another but rather are interrelated and complimentary. Doing justice demonstrates the heart of God; it is complimentary with God’s love, mercy, and compassion. We would not want to neglect demonstrating God’s justice any more than we would any other aspects of His nature. We must value them all, without deeming some to be more important than others. Think of how countercultural this is, as the voice of society loudly shouts some virtues while barely whispering others.

We may be more naturally adept at some qualities, finding these easier to live out. But this doesn’t preclude our need to grow in areas that are more challenging. Justice must carry the same weight and have the same importance to a Christian as any other godly characteristic. As Jesus showed us the full measure of God, in the same way, image bearers should strive to reflect God in all his fullness. (Rom 8.29) None of us will ever be perfect, and yet we can use our lack of perfection as an excuse for a lack of spiritual effort in our lives. “Be perfect as your heavenly Father is perfect” (Matt 5.48) is an admonition for the Christian to pursue growth, to recognize the areas in our lives where we fall short and need to make changes.

Do we focus more on some of God’s qualities? I think so. It is natural for various life stages and experiences to bring an appreciation for characteristics of God more than at other times. For example, the compassion of God has more practical relevance when we experience a period of suffering or loss. As God’s compassion brings comfort to us, we learn to be more compassionate towards others in their time of need. In this way, we reflect God more to those who are hurting. Also, there are times we may need to focus our attention on a specific quality to address our personal needs. I have devoted many hours of study to topics such as faith, love, perseverance, and patience, recognizing my need for spiritual growth in these areas. Clearly, we can’t address everything all at once, at the same time! Yet we must also recognize there are some qualities of God that we seldom consider when solely based on our individual circumstances. Justice is one that can be overlooked - unless we are among the oppressed. Sadly, it is easy for those who are not experiencing injustice to ignore God’s heart for those who are. But reflecting God’s heart of justice is imperative for the image bearer. We cannot be satisfied to shine in some areas while neglecting others.

The one who oppresses the poor person insults his Maker, but one who is kind to the needy honors him. Proverbs 14.31 (CSB)

Who needs justice? The short answer: all of us. We all have inherent rights and want to be treated fairly. But God singles out certain groups of people when he speaks of justice.

Widows (Is 1.17)

Orphans/the fatherless (Zech 7.9-10)

Aliens/foreigners/sojourners (Deut 10.18)

Laborers (Deut 24.14)

The poor (Prov 31.8)

The needy (Prov 31.9)

The weak (Ps 82.3-4)

The oppressed (Ps 103.6)

The falsely accused (Ex 23.7; Prov 17.15)

It’s not that God loves these people more, because He loves everyone and there is no favoritism with God. But these were the most vulnerable, mistreated, at risk, unable to speak for themselves. Today, the vernacular also includes children in foster care, the elderly, undocumented immigrants, migrant workers, and the homeless. These are the least likely among us to experience justice.

How we treat the vulnerable and marginalized is a direct reflection of our respect and honor of God. As Christians, we would never consider it excusable to show contempt for God. But that is how He feels when the poor are oppressed or even mocked (Prov 14.31; 17.5) God says, “Blessed are those who have regard for the weak.” (Ps 41.1)

Recognizing that the world is not fair doesn’t preclude the Jesus follower from doing justice. If we are tempted to think that these scriptures from the Old Testament do not apply to us today, remember that Jesus came to fulfill the law (Matt 5.17). Jesus lived a life of justice to the marginalized, setting an example for us to do the same. He tells a parable describing the righteous, and it’s not the religious person with selective morality. “For I was hungry and you gave me something to eat, I was thirsty and you gave me something to drink, I was a stranger and you invited me in, I needed clothes and you clothed me, I was sick and you looked after me, I was in prison and you came to visit me….whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.” (Matt 25.35-36, 40). These people are considered of little worth in our society. We see this in government policies that fail to protect their rights and the lack of funding to help. But while society devalues them, God reminds us of their worth.

There are so many verses that speak of this; I will close with just a few:

Defend the weak and the fatherless; uphold the cause of the poor and the oppressed. Rescue the weak and the needy; deliver them from the hand of the wicked. (Ps 82.3-4)

Learn to do right; seek justice. Defend the oppressed. Take up the cause of the fatherless; plead the case of the widow. (Is 1.17)

This is what the Lord Almighty says: Administer true justice, show mercy and compassion to one another. Do not oppress the widow or the fatherless, the immigrant or the poor. (Zech 7.9-10)

So I will come to put you on trial. I will be quick to testify against sorcerers, adulterers and perjurers, against those who defraud laborers of their wages, who oppress the widows and the fatherless, and deprive the foreigners among you of justice, but do not fear me,” says the Lord Almighty. (Mal 3.5)

Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to after orphans and widows in their distress and to keep oneself from being polluted by the world.” (James 1.27)

For no one is cast off by the Lord forever. Though he brings grief, he will show compassion, so great is his unfailing love. For he does not willingly bring affliction or grief to anyone. Lamentations 3.31-33 (NIV)

For most of us in the US, justice is synonymous with “criminal justice” and retribution. It connotes images of lawyers, courtrooms, victims, and defendants. The Merriam Webster dictionary defines justice as “the quality of being fair or impartial”. But as we’ve seen, the biblical word means so much more. It means “giving people what they are due, whether punishment or protection and care.”[1] So one aspect of biblical justice is retributive, justice as punishment. There is a question as to whether God punishes us or whether what we may see as punishment is really the painful consequences of our own sin. While this debate goes on, there is much we can know.

When God speaks of punishment, it is connected to his holiness and love. God’s love is unfailing and unceasing. No one is ever too far gone or hopeless in the sight of God. God continues to see the inherent dignity of each person regardless of who they are or what they have done.

The objective of any punishment or consequence a person goes through is meant to call them to repentance and restore them to wholeness. It is for a person’s good, carried out by our loving Father in Heaven. (see Hebrews 12.7)

God is fair and impartial. His justice is proportional to one’s sin and is administered without favoritism.

Our present-day practice of retributive justice is very different from that of God. I will mention only a few characteristics of our criminal justice system that are contrary to biblical justice. The United States has the highest incarceration rate in the world.[2] Since the 1970’s there has been a 700% increase in incarceration – and this growth in mass incarceration rates is NOT attributed to a growth in violent crime.[3] Many laws and policies are based on a “tough on crime” posture but devoid of research-based evidence that would make communities more safe. Many actions of those in positions of authority are motivated by revenge, retaliation, spite, or political advantage. There is great disparity in the treatment of individuals, with the wealthy having greater access to better legal representation, bail, and reduced sentences. Statistics show race and ethnicity to be major factors in incarceration rates. Prisons are often located in remote areas, making family visits prohibitive. Excessive costs are charged to inmates and their families for any extra clothes, food, and even telephone calls. These policies further isolate incarcerated individuals from their families and those that can best provide support. Education and rehabilitation are low priorities of our prisons, especially those run by private corporations for profit. Successful reentry to society for formerly incarcerated individuals is fraught with hindrances, worsened by these policies and practices. All of this is contrary to biblical justice.

Protecting persons from harm is an important and necessary consideration when sentencing those who have been convicted of a crime. But punishments that are implemented in a dehumanizing manner or are strictly punitive are contrary to biblical justice. As image bearers of God, we should be standing for nothing less than God’s version of retributive justice.

[1] Timothy Keller, Generous Justice, 4.

[2] Connections Among Poverty, Incarceration, and Inequality, Institute for Research on Poverty, University of Wisconsin-Madison, May 2020. https://www.irp.wisc.edu/resource/connections-among-poverty-incarceration-and-inequality/

[3] Mass Incarceration in America: Stats and Facts, Christy Bieber, J.D., Forbes, May 9, 2024. https://www.forbes.com/advisor/legal/criminal-defense/mass-incarceration-in-america-stats-and-facts/