Lent Reflections, Day 4: Injustice

My husband and I spend a lot of time thinking about injustice and, as a result, much of our family culture has been shaped by the themes of injustice and the just.  For instance, we named our dogs Lord Shaftesbury and Sir William Wilberforce after two English reformers who first ended child slavery and then ended ALL institutionalized slavery in England, respectively (appropriate tribute for such great men?  Probably not.  Great daily reminders for us?  Um, yes.)

We actively pay attention to where we spend and invest our money, consciously trying to avoid those places and investments that are exploiting others for their own profit, and grieving over how often we fail and how difficult it is to do so.

We named our son Levi Justice.

When Andy and I talk about injustice, or try and explain injustice to our kids, it is easy for us to spend our time talking about the specifics: no clean water, no food, no homes, no sanitation.  No opportunity, no perception of equality, no vision of a life not centered on survival.  It doesn’t matter if we are talking about people in Africa or people in the United States–the signs of injustice mark us all.

But, truthfully, I think that we are missing something important if our thoughts about injustice center solely on those visible marks, because these things that humanity lacks are just symptoms of what injustice actually is:

Injustice is the absence of dignity.

Dignity is removed from people in a variety of ways: the woman who is raped, the man who is beaten, the children who stand with protruding bellies and ribs on our television screens.

The teen who is forced to beg on State Street, un-acknowleged by the hundreds of people who are not even trying to ignore her because they honestly do not see her.

The person suffering from mental illness, or from genetic anomaly, or from physical disability who is greeted with pity or fear or repulsion.

The parent who would like to work to provide for her/his child, but who is given shoes instead of an opportunity.

Which means that, if injustice is the absence of dignity, then injustice is pervasive first of our minds–made tangible through our perceptions–before it pervades our material belongings.  Injustice is decided along with who we decide to be worthy of dignity–of our respect and of our empathy. We can correct those material things, providing water and food and shelter, but it won’t actually change anything unless we bestow dignity along with those things.

We are called to do this because this is what God does for us: God bestows dignity.

He didn’t just ignore our sin–he obliterated it.

He didn’t just placate us with survival–he opens the door to full, vibrant life.

He didn’t just watch over us as though we were stray animals–he adopted us as his own children.  Because God is Just.  Because God is incapable of injustice.  Beause God is Dignified.

So how has God provided dignity for you?  Who are the people you deprive of dignity?  How would your provision of dignity perpetuate justice in their lives?

–Jessica