Justice in the Burbs

While visiting my brother out at Trinity Western, I stumbled upon the book store and picked up a couple books on social justice. I just started Will and Lisa Samson's "Justice in the Burbs: Being the Hands of Jesus Wherever You Live"

As I read the first few chapters with my morning coffee, the following passage really got me thinking:

Famine and disease decimate populations, and war tears apart families and cripples our children. But if we live normal American suburban lives, the only way we might know about this injustice is by seeing it on the news channel or reading about it on the internet. Even with the availability of the information and the knowledge of the problem, we often turn away, too tired or sad or helpless to focus on such need. Often we don't even look, focusing on our own heartaches, our own needs

I only know suburbia.

What does it take for the pain of the world to tear into our own realities? When will we take responsibility for our brothers and sisters?

I cannot help but think that I've been raised with blinders on.

This doesn't reflect on my parents... but on my culture. Those horses that pull carriages through busy city streets wear them to block out everything but that which is ahead. I am a product of a culture driven by capitalism and the ideal of individual success. I focus solely on that ahead of me. I worry only about the barriers or obstacles that lie in my path. If I am to try to look beyond myself, to what is going on around me, I lose sight of what is before me. To turn to my brother beside me comes at a cost of blocking out my journey. I cannot do both. So it's easier to continue forward- to let my brother worry about himself. Sure, the odd time I will stop to look to the side, but only when it is convenient for me to do so- when I have made good leeway on my own path. When few obstacles clutter that which is before me, I might stop for a moment or two and then continue my journey with my head held a little higher.

From time to time I look up. I whisper a prayer to my Father, but I can't spend too much time with my head in the clouds, I've got somewhere to go. I have that path before me.



I never look down.

I don't want to see the backs I walk on. I can't stomach seeing those I have to run over in order to continue a forward motion. Don't get me wrong, I side step them when I can (most don't even pay attention, so I'm doing more then they do). But they litter the streets. It's the harsh reality of life. I've convinced myself that they've chosen to be there, or at very least, they are somehow different from me. If helps to numb me from the feeling of them breaking under my feet.