Sometimes I want to ask God why He allows there to be injustice in the world. There are too many people who are hungry, and lonely, and homeless, and in need of life’s necessities, and ill, and offenders against society.
I know that God has the ability to make all these situations disappear. To make them right.
Because if God did that, just made all these problems disappear, then *we* wouldn’t have to deal with them. We wouldn’t have to see people hurting, and physically abused, and emotionally crushed in their own communities. We wouldn’t have to interact those who experience discrimination, those who battle addictions, those whose lives we find offensive. We wouldn’t need to acknowledge those who live on the streets, whose career is based on the streets, who very existence seems to be one great tragedy after another. If God would just take care of all that unsavoury stuff, then we could celebrate a community, a wider society, where justice prevailed and the reign of Christ was ever-present.
The challenge becomes, however, HOW this disappearance would happen. Are we expecting God to address the root causes of these problems, or are we hoping that God could just make these ‘unsavoury’ people cease to exist?
So here’s my question – in this utopian Christocentric society, would YOU be there?
Yes, that’s a provocative question. It’s intended to get you thinking. For some of us, the first response will be shock. “Wait – you mean I might *not* be in Christ’s community? Huh?” For others, the first response will be a defense. “Of course I would be there” we might think. “I come to church, I help my neighbour, I do good things. My work has contributed to society, I smile at people in the stores. I do what I can to love the people around me – so yes I would be there!”
Imagine for a moment if your life circumstances were such that your first response was a resigned acceptance of being rejected. “Of course I won’t be there, I’ve been too harshly judged.”
This touches on the very issue of the readings today – judgement. Of all of us being judged. And, sadly, of all of us judging.
We hear the cry for justice in the readings – for things to be set right, put into right relationship. Ezekiel reminds us that the Lord God will save his sheep – that his flock will be searched out and gathered together in safety and health. They will not be battered or bullied or oppressed by other sheep, nor stolen or abused or taken advantage of by other shepherds. God will look after his own, spreading love and compassion and care as widely as possible – and then a little bit further.
The gospel tells us of the division of the good from the bad, the sheep and the goats are separated and dealt with accordingly. Yet once again we see judgement happening. I’m not referring to God’s judgement – because that’s a judgement and justice system that I think we can all agree on as being good. But there’s other judgement happening, a harsh and cruel and worldly judgement. It’s the same judgement that happens day after day in our culture, in our community. It’s the same judgement that we can be found taking part in.
And there are challenges with this understanding of judgement and justice – first off, when we hear these terms, we think in a very negative and penal way. Judgement means harsh prison treatments, justice means people getting exactly what they deserve (of course in a negative context). Secondly, when we think of judgement and justice, we automatically presume that our way of thinking is the only right way.
Jesus challenges his followers in this reading about how they are treating one another – about how they would like to see the perfect world created. And their answers are sadly human-centred. They would choose to ignore those who are most in need, in order to fully honour and glorify the great one in front of them. When Jesus says that the righteous, those who will inherit the Kingdom, have fed him and clothed him and welcomed him and visited him in his prison, these people are baffled. “What are you talking about Jesus?” they seem to say. “You were never in a position like that where we needed to take care of you!” This very response demonstrates that they are not necessarily looking for justice for all, but only those who they see as having authority. Their utopia would include only the good folks that they see, those who think and speak and act like they do.
But the Kingdom of God is a very different place. The true Kingdom of God is one where (as Walter Brueggemann suggests) everyone is working together in “Seeking the lost, Bringing back the strayed, Binding up the injured, Strengthening the weak, Feeding the hungry. … the restoration of the common good so that all members of the community, strong and weak, rich and poor, may live together in a common shalom of shared resources.”
So our challenge today is not to simply acknowledge the true leadership of the Christ in our lives, but to go out and live justice –not an arbitrary ‘right or wrong’ assessment, but an opportunity to recognise our abundant gifts and to use them to work towards setting things right in the way that Christ would. To live our faith in such a way that we, like the Ephesians, could be applauded for our loyalty. To have our eyes opened to see and therefore help those who are hurting, and physically abused, and emotionally crushed in their own communities. To interact with those who experience discrimination, those who battle addictions, those whose lives we find offensive. To be present to and allies for those who live on the streets, whose career is based on the streets, who very existence seems to be one great tragedy after another.
Sometimes I want to ask God why He allows there to be injustice in the world. But I’m afraid He might just ask me the same question.
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