Plowing the Justice Path by Fran Salone-Pelletier

Readings: Isaiah 40:1-5, 9-11 (alt. 42:1-4, 6-7); Titus 2:11-14; 3:4-7 (alt. Acts 10:34-38); Luke 3:15-16, 21-22

Somewhere deep inside each of us there is a stirring of discomfort regarding our identity and relationship with God. Who are we? Who is God for us? The wondering in our hearts never completely disappears. We look around at our broken, bruised, battered worlds—and we sigh with concern. We are baffled by it all.

We believe in God’s presence among us, yet wonder at the state of our world. Suffering surrounds us: poverty, abounding unemployment, increasing violence, universal hunger, emotional pain, severe sickness. Like the Jews of old, we anticipate and expect a God who will save us by conquering evil in the world. Bound to our common needs, deafened by repeated cries for help, darkly chained in the cages of selfish desires, we eagerly await the God who will save us from our misery. Instead, we are gifted with a God of mercy and loving justice.

Our God saves—not by invasive trafficking within our lives but through interior transformation. We are not compelled to submit to divinity, to conform to God’s will. God always chooses the way of revelation. Divinity reveals itself so that we might recognize the imprisonment we suffer when we are godless.

There are no chains to hold us in rigid compliance. There is only an invitation to baptism. No restrictions are placed on this invitation: all are called to baptism, to be immersed in the holiness of God’s unconditional love. As Peter states, “I truly understand that God shows no partiality, but in every nation anyone who fears God and dies what is acceptable is acceptable to God” (Acts 10:34-35).

God continually calls us forth to the lifelong challenge of living out our baptism. As Isaiah writes, “I the Lord, have called you for the victory of justice. I have grasped you by the hand; I formed you, and set you as a covenant of the people, a light for the nations, to open the eyes of the blind, to bring out prisoners from confinement and from the dungeon, those who live in darkness” (Isa 42:6-7).

The call has been given; the formation is taking place. We have been chosen, molded, gifted, grasped by God. We are baptized into the God who is freedom and justice. Thus, justice must command our spirit and enlighten our being or it will never illumine the nations. Freedom must ring in our hearts so that it might reign in our world. We are not statues of liberty stationed in a harbor of promise. We are to be living reminders of liberty and justice for all.

History has proven God’s way, the way of justice and freedom, is the only true way. There are monumental examples of justice seekers and freedom runners in Martin Luther King Jr., Galileo, Gandhi, Sojourner Truth, Black Elk, and many others throughout the ages who have modeled the Isaian prophet.

There are also other models whose names are not mentioned in history books but loom large in our hearts and minds. These are the ordinary people who, like my son-in-law Rob who stood firm in his decision to wear a WWJD bracelet despite the teasing and snide remarks of his fellow workers. At that time, Rob was a corrections officer whose job was to bring out prisoners from confinement. That task was not always an easy one, nor was it without moments of fear and frustration. With a glance at his bracelet, he was able to recall righteousness in the midst of imprisonment, charity in the face of confinement. He is still stalwart in his deciding to be an officer of correction—making right what is wrong.

Another son-in-law has made animal rights his issue of justice and freedom. As a teacher, the chance that he might arrive late at school would never deter him from aiding an animal hit by a car and found lying at the roadside. He teaches his students, as well as his own children, to usher insects out of buildings without injuring them by the swat of a human hand. The vegetarian lifestyle he has chosen to follow often evokes family teasing. With nary a negative reaction, Josh simply plows his justice path, lovingly accepting all who hold a contrary point of view—but never wavering from his conviction regarding what he believes to be right.

Modern-day Isaiahs are everywhere. There is the town crier who will not stop talking about the need for affordable housing, the quiet volunteer who labors daily to teach adults how to read, pastors who preach challenging homilies and risk their popularity. Without doubt, the struggle for justice is a painful one.  It is also costly.

Humiliation, frustration, misunderstanding, fear of failure, regret, rejection are the cost of justified living. Encountering our own darkness while leading others to light brings us a certain loneliness; even God can seem distant. Some days, being whipped into conformity appears to be much the easier route!

Yet somehow we know that our weakness and woundedness make us credible healers. Our vulnerability opens us to the magnificence of God working in us that we may be bearers of justice and freedom, righteous heirs of our baptism. Thus will God’s words ring out: “Here is my servant whom I uphold, my chosen, in whom my soul delights; I have put my spirit upon this one; this one will bring forth justice to the nations” (Isa 42:1).

Humbly hearing, we go forth to enter discomfort—and discover God! ♦

Fran Salone-Pelletier holds a master’s degree in theology. She is the author of a trilogy of scriptural meditations, Awakening to God: The Sunday Readings in Our Lives, in which a version of this reflection originally appeared. She is also a religious educator, retreat leader, lecturer, and grandmother of four. Reach her at hope5@atmc.net.

Image: Icon with Theophany of Christ, Arkhangelsk lands, 17th c. Wikimedia Commons/Netelo/CC BY-SA 4.0