Justice

A Response to Just Mercy ch. 5 and 6 by Bryan Stevenson

Justice.

Does such a thing exist here in this broken world? In a world where merely figments of broken systems and fragments of shattered lives co-exist and collaborate to simulate some sort of perception of wholeness. My heart breaks as I hold the book assigned to us for class, because I know just how real these accounts are; this book does not open my eyes, no, it aligns with the sights I’ve seen in this system called justice, in all of these systems acclaimed for bringing freedom and restoration- yet only providing chains and shackles.

Do they see it? Peering out at my classmates- their scorned faces, their outrage, their rebuttals- do they see it- the impending truth that transcends the materialized pages of this book, the impending truth that manifests into harsh realities, into shattered lives, into dismantled realities? Do they? And if they do, why are tables not being flipped, why are tears not streaming and fists not clenching, why are we sitting in chairs conceptualizing painful realities into distant stories?

How have we become so detached, how have we become so blind that we do not see the deep yearning that the world around us has for wholeness, for shalom? I breathe out. I toss my book onto the desk and my professor looks at me. When asked about themes that I see in these chapters I say “jacked up”, because all I want to say is a slur of cuss words that leave my mouth and embrace the broken pieces of this world around us and hold them close, because they remain hidden from blind eyes.

Explain. I have to explain why “jacked up” is a theme, but I don’t understand why it needs an explanation. Don’t the words speak for themselves? Don’t they leap off of the page and interact with us, because don’t they represent every person who has been silenced, shackled and stripped of their humanity? Yet, they still need to be explained, because what type of college students sits in a professional setting and says that the theme of the story can be summarized by “jacked up”? What type of well-socialized 21 year old sits in a classroom and disregards all eloquent vocabulary for the sake of declaring that the events in the story are “jacked up”?

My voice feels cold. It feels frozen in time, because it does not understand how it can speak words that can truly convey the harsh realities of this world. Words. I seek them desperately. I long to be able to express to my classmates that this book is not something that goes away once this semester ends- that this book is an account of events and life-altering brokenness that happens every single day. This book is one of many stories to be told, one of many silenced truths about the deeply ingrained evil in this world.

Justice.

Does such a thing exist here in this broken world? After wrestling with this question for many years, after interacting with inconceivable evil, after being burned and hurt and silenced and dismissed by the very systems that were created to help “people like me”- I do not know. Yet I remain in a class created around the desire for change, because I know that although there may not be hope found in this world, there is a hope that is found outside of this world- and that it is enough to embrace broken people and mend shattered lives. It is enough to spread light and hope. It is enough to strengthen me to fight the battles that seem hopeless and endless, because I know that I am not resting my hope in broken hands- I am resting it in an eternal promise, in an eternal, everlasting shalom that far transcends the evil that takes place every single day. I breathe out. I am not here by accident. I am here for a reason.