At the Heart of Justice is Friendship
When we first moved into missional community, we had no idea what we were doing.
Visions of how we were going to change the world, transform the church, be “real, radical, Jesus following” Christians, filled our hearts and imaginations. We longed to be a part of the Divine’s outpouring of Justice on the world, to be a part of what God was doing in our community, to see the world made right; the Divine Dream come on earth as it is in heaven.
We’d jumped in together, two couples, one kid (at the time, now grown to four between us), and an idealised enthusiasm about how we would change the world. Youth Homelessness is a huge issue in Tāmaki Makaurau, and specifically an issue for young teenage māmā, who face immense discrimination and experience homelessness as a result. We’d come together to respond to this need, naively thinking that people would fall over themselves to receive our help; that by just existing we would be the solution to our community's needs.
We took a couple months to get ourselves organised and then opened our doors. Several people inquired, one young māmā came to visit, but no one chose to stay. It was disappointing, but we distracted ourselves with the work of growing us. We were still figuring out how to be an us, how to transform ourselves from two separate families, into one cohesive community. Looking back, it was perhaps by God’s grace that our invitations were not immediately answered. We still had a lot to learn.
And learn we did.
Through tension and disagreement, through spilt coffee and dirty dishes, we learnt how to love one another, warts and all. We learnt that to be able to serve others, we had to first learn to serve each other.
And yet, through all the growing and learning, the first year passed us by, and the second came, and we still hadn’t fulfilled our purpose. We ached to do the work we’d set out to do, to serve, to be a solution to this growing need in our city.
But our spare room remained empty.
To be a little honest, in those early days, I think we missed opportunities to serve that God placed in front of us. We were fixated on this idealised vision of what our purpose was, that we solely existed to serve young mothers, and yet others were in need and we said no. Because, we were waiting.
Sometimes the dream, the vision, the idealist imagination, can get in the way of actually participating in the work of Justice that God is doing in this world.
Another lesson for us. And a vital one.
It took us almost three years before our invitation was accepted, and even then, it didn’t look the way we thought it would. Jesus turned up on our doorstep in the form of a young wahine who had been living on Queen Street. Her life was hard, complex, and messy, and serving her was nothing like the idealised notions of service we’d conjured over our years of waiting.
But, she chose us, and we chose her, and for a time we journeyed together. And we soon learnt that when it comes to living Justice, idealism wasn’t enough. Instead, we learnt that doing Justice in this context, looked a lot like all the stuff we’d learnt to do for each other. It looked like committing ourselves to deep solidarity and genuine friendship, it looked like accepting our young wahine, it looked like a lot of grace, forgiveness and messiness.
And when she eventually moved on, Jesus came again, and again, and again, each time in the form of another rangatahi, homeless and in need of a place to lay their head. Each time willing to teach us more about what it means to be human, to Love and be Loved, to forgive and be forgiven, to live lives that reflect the Justice and Love of Christ.
In our current cultural moment, I fear sometimes that our conception of justice is too narrow.
Justice mahi is often perceived as these great performative acts. It’s marching down the streets, it’s speaking truth to power, it’s delivering petitions, changing government policy, it’s tweeting that zinger that unmasks the hypocrisy of the mainstream, it’s being a part of a radical missional community, serving those on the extreme margins of society.
And although all that can be exciting and good, the real work, the justice mahi that rarely makes the headlines (and yet, makes all the difference) is often bland, boring and mundane.
It’s choosing to live as if the Divine Dream were truly becoming reality here on earth as it is in heaven. As if the world really were being made right. It’s choosing forgiveness, even when your fellow community member has forgotten to take the trash out again. It’s choosing to mop the floors for your friend (even though in our last community meeting everyone was reminded whose week it was), it’s choosing to love each other, because in the forgetful, aggravating, frustrating One, we find Christ.
At the heart of Justice is friendship. It’s relationship, it’s seeing each other, living in solidarity with one another, choosing one another, because that is how things change. Through our relationships.
Political campaigns, social media pressure, exciting and innovative missional projects, they can only do so much. If we want a more Just world, one that truly reflects the Divine’s Dream for humanity, we have to be willing to build it. Together.
Aaron Hendry
Aaron Hendry is a Youth Worker, rangatahi advocate, writer, and political commentator on social justice issues. He lives in an intentional community in Tāmaki Makaurau whose mission is to serve young people who don't have homes. Aaron is a founding member of Manaaki Rangatahi and has had a key role in developing the Safety Net Project, both of which are initiatives to support rangatahi experiencing homelessness.