Canada

Dear Tanya, 
In 2009, you became a number that I wasn't counting. 
Your sister, Vanessa, was counting.
The hours, days and the years of this silence.
I heard during the hearing. 
I heard your story. 
I heard your human-ness. 
You are not dead to her.
You are not a number.
I'm counting. We're counting.
With Love, 
Priya

An ally is someone who resists injustice on behalf of marginalized people. An ally may have social privilege and social power that those on the margins lack, and they use that power to expose injustice, to speak against injustice, and to propose just alternatives. Followers of Jesus, who seek to serve as allies, look to the ways that Jesus broke social stigma, empowered the powerless, drew people from the margins to the center, and embodied a vision of shalom where ALL would flourish.

On Do Justice, we’re all about creating space.

Space to ask hard questions. Space to wrestle with the implications of the Church’s call to do justice in the places where we live, today. Space to struggle with what it means to be the Body of Christ, where the eye cannot say to the hand, “I don’t need you” and where the foot cannot say to the head, “I don’t need you.”

I grew up in a Christian home, with parents who were deeply involved in our local church, and who encouraged my siblings and I to be active members from a young age. I cherish the lasting influence church involvement has had on my life, and view it as a direct result of the faithfulness of my parents. From Sunday church services to weekly family Bible studies, faith was woven into all our family traditions, and has remained a central anchor in all our experiences. Racial justice – or a lack thereof —has also been a central characteristic of my personal and family experience.

“Sustainability” might be a modern term, but it’s an ancient value. Parents were reminding children to turn out the lights generations before Al Gore’s Inconvenient Truth. Elders have long taught youth not to take more than is needed, to live in harmony with one’s surroundings, to protect the soil from wind and water erosion, and to protect creatures so they can continue to reproduce.

For the past few weeks, two alarming and powerful words have filled my social media feed. Using the hashtag #MeToo, women have been breaking the silence, bravely sharing their stories and experiences of sexual harassment and assault. Since news of the countless abuse allegations against Hollywood producer Harvey Weinstein surfaced, this hashtag has spread around the world. The story moved beyond one man and became a platform for conversation around abuse of power, acts of aggression, and violence against women.

“Do you want to live in a Jewish ghetto? I certainly don’t want to live in a Jewish ghetto. … Look at the houses of the Jews. They don’t do proper maintenance.…I’ve lived in this neighbourhood for 43 years. I like it the way it is. I don’t want it to change. I want to walk down the street and greet people I know, people like me. But the Jews: you try and greet them; they look away.”

Recently my pastor based his sermon on John 4, focusing on the verses where Jesus teaches the Samaritan woman that God’s followers must worship Him in spirit and in truth. Since then I have been musing about how that applies when we think about our work as worship. Or consider how it applies to our volunteer hours, time spent promoting social justice issues, advocacy, and every aspect of our lives as we strive to live as socially aware individuals!

There’s an enthralling visual presented in the book of Revelation, when at last God’s chosen people have gathered together: “I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed in white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, ‘Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!’” (Revelation 7:9-10).

Pornography is a giant in our land. How do we bring it down?