There are times when it is appropriate to seek justice and times when it is best to bear injustice. The grounds for when to do what seem to always be centred around the gospel. Will this matter serve the cause of the gospel as I seek justice or will this matter bring the gospel into disrepute? Will I be able to serve the cause of the gospel better by seeking justice in this case or will I serve the cause of the gospel better by bearing this injustice patiently and leaving it with the Lord to judge one day? So rarely in our quest for justice do we ask these sorts of questions.

Injustice, without question, exists. In our broken world, it exists all around us. It exists in society, it exists in our denominations and gospel partnerships, it exists in the church and it exists in our own hearts. Sinful people will cause injustice. Injustice, simply, is opposed to whatever is right. It is the inverse of righteousness, which is concerned with rightness. Injustice is the absence of what is just and right; it is unfairness and wrongness made manifest.
But what do we do about injustice? Options range from setting up campaigns and waging unrelenting war against it right the way through to actively encouraging it ourselves. But what should be our response as believers? I think there is a time to pus back against injustice and there is a time to wear it. The big question is, how do we know when to do either?
Helpfully, I think Paul offers us some pointers both in how he responded to injustice on a personal level and how he directed the church to address injustice. Let me land on four examples which, I think, give us some helpful guidance.
First, there is Paul’s imprisonment and beating in Philippi. You can read the full story in Acts 16, but the two pertinent sections are Acts 16:16-24 and Acts 16:35-40. The short story is that Paul and Silas are followed around by a girl with an evil spirit whom some men are exploiting for profit. She begins disrupting their efforts to share the gospel so Paul exorcises the demon in the name of Jesus and the girl is restored to her right mind. Her “owners” are miffed at the loss of profit so make up stories about Paul and Silas which led to them being beaten by the magistrates and chucked in prison. The next day, they are released without charge and Paul tells the magistrates they are Roman citizens who have been beaten and detained unlawfully and they expect a fulsome, public apology with an escort out of prison, which they duly did to stop word getting to their higher ups.
The second example comes later on in Acts 21-26. It kind of goes on longer than that, but you can get the main points in those chapters. This time, Paul is arrested unjustly in Jerusalem. Some Jews from Asia wrongly incite the crowd against Paul leading to a riot. A Roman Commander came down to sort matters out and again Paul cites his Roman citizenship. Only, this time, he doesn’t cite it to get out of prison, but in order to stay in! From chapter 22 to the end of Acts, Paul keeps appealing up the chain of command. He doesn’t demand release but speaks to the Roman commander, then to the Jewish Sanhedrin, then to the governor Felix, then because he as been left in prison so long, to his successor Festus. After that, Paul appeals to Caesar – to whom he goes next – but before he gets there he speaks to King Agrippa. At the end of Chapter 26, they are all agreed that had Paul not kept appealing up the chain of command he would have been released.
It seems prudent to ask why, in one case, does Paul take a beating and claim his rights as a Roman citizen after the fact while in another almost identical case he claims his rights beforehand to avoid a beating? Why, in one case, does he demand his release from unjust imprisonment and in the other keeps doing things that he knows full well will prolong his time in prison? In each case, Paul is unjustly imprisoned. In each case, his rights are being trampled all over. But he responds differently in both cases. Why?
As far as I can see, the answer seems to be for the sake of the gospel. In one case, the gospel was being maligned because of his false imprisonment. He wanted it to be made known that Christianity is not opposed to civil obedience.
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Written by Benjamin T. Inman |
Friday, February 24, 2023
We need the outwards means that Christ actually uses. Where has he put his promises? How does he give us the benefits of redemption? It is appalling to assert that sanctification by faith urgently needs something other than what Christ has appointed. This is about how is it even possible, and how is it actually accomplished– that faith in Christ can deliver us from fruitless lives of being “anything but faithful, self-denying, cross-bearing Christians.”

That was Mardi Gras, Fat Tuesday. My special needs daughter’s trainer gave her some red beads in the morning. That was kind of one, and delightful to both. We didn’t discuss penitential practices, or the twisted reliability of the-day-before-lent. Just a day on the calendar. Just shiny beads. Yes, I thanked her.
The next day I drove into town, past the Anglican Church: “Ash Wednesday: Drive-Thru hours 12-1 pm and 4-5 pm, Service at 5:30.” I’m new in this town and haven’t yet met the priest. I have only done some drive-by praying. I have no idea what to make of that sign. Somebody’s circus, somebody’s monkeys. For that clergy in that building, it was most certainly Ash Wednesday. What does it mean for them on Thursday?
Thursday is the day when I think about my two dear Anglican brothers. I think. I do not text the thought, though it would make them laugh. I am not making light of their discipleship. I know they think of me on this day too– fond thoughts edging over towards how immovable I am on this stuff. It’s me; it’s Thursday; it’s not a big deal; it just won’t budge.
But then, I read this from a fellow minister in the Presbyterian Church in America (PCA). He and I have communicated about my concerns before. He wrote this originally for all and sundry, though now he publishes it again for the members of his new congregation. He explains that ashes for repentance is something people actually did when open fires were ubiquitous to civilization. Perhaps today we would follow their example by licking an electrical outlet. Or we could anoint with embalming fluid. He carefully acknowledges that what we now do at the drive thru only emerged in the 11th century. He then goes on to speak of embodied rituals and their necessity for our sanctification.
He is not fooling around; he knows that it is an old practice, not an ancient practice. Accordingly, his reflection produces a flexible conclusion: this is like something seen in the Bible, and a lot of professing Christians have done it in the past– so, it is okey-dokey but not mandatory for congregations to do it now. Perhaps his session promulgates this ritual for those under their care. Perhaps he performs it in his office as their pastor. Perhaps some of them do not participate. This is an elective practice for Christians. No, not in the Bible, but cherished by some people who have high regard for the Bible. It is more than naming a day, but also less.
What’s The Problem?
Easter. Lent. Fat Tuesday. Ash Wednesday. I even made up my own name for Thursday. This is not about naming days. This is not about despising disciples in earlier centuries from whom we have received the legacy of their tenacity. I am not scandalized or deprived of a gleam of my thankful wonder by thinking that the people who blessed me did some stupid stuff. I am encouraged to think some folks may regard me similarly. I’m not bent out of shape because “that is not a very presbyterian thing to do.” Let all the jerseys be so smeared with mud and blood, that we can’t discriminate with our comments from the sidelines. There are differences and details, but don’t muck around like this:
We live in a culture that is constantly barraging us with rituals. We are moved along like sheep by the media and other forces. We participate in the Super Bowl, an event that is laden with ritual. We do Fourth of July, Presidents’ Day, Memorial Day – and most of these rituals involve opening up the pocket book to buy things. We participate in sporting events of all kinds, which are rituals. We do Valentine’s day, Mother’s Day, and Father’s Day – all rituals. And yet even though our secular culture hits us with rituals all day long, seven days a week, and twice on Sunday, many of us Protestants and Evangelicals are wary of rituals in the church! In light of everything the culture uses to shape and form us, what we need in the church is not less rituals but more! We need rituals to shape and form us to counteract the forces in the culture which are forming us into anything but faithful, self-denying, cross-bearing Christians.
Ritual is a profound and trendy topic. My daughter is a professional philosopher, and she has schooled me a bit. It is of interest to professional philosophers lately. She doesn’t think my views of intinction or the call to worship or Matthew 18 are just persnickety opinions about details and criteria. She and I both are nodding with this impassioned paragraph about those cultural rituals. The real-world power and trajectories are weighty.
Most certainly, believers need something “to counteract the forces in the culture.” Romans 12:1ff and similar texts indicate that just such “greater than” power and influence is necessary in sanctification. The PCA’s view of wholesome religion thrums with the same urgency: “What doth God require of us, that we may escape his wrath and curse, due to us for sin?” (SC 85).
That dire question has a stout and energetic rejoinder. “To escape the wrath and curse of God, due to us for sin, God requireth of us faith in Jesus Christ, repentance unto life, with the diligent use of all the outward means whereby Christ communicateth to us the benefits of redemption.” No, under the pressures of our wicked society, we do not need to multiply liturgical rituals.
We need the outwards means that Christ actually uses. Where has he put his promises? How does he give us the benefits of redemption? It is appalling to assert that sanctification by faith urgently needs something other than what Christ has appointed. This is about how is it even possible, and how is it actually accomplished– that faith in Christ can deliver us from fruitless lives of being “anything but faithful, self-denying, cross-bearing Christians.”
This is not about being unpresbyterian. This is not about naming days.
What’s the Other Problem?
I am heartened about the point of agreement: we want Christians to live worthy of their calling. I am distressed at this out-of-the-ancient-blue prescription. We agree on how high the stakes are, and the necessity of every believer laying his cards on the table. Our Standards exempt no believer. There is no Christian freedom athwart this point: God requires “the diligent use” by everyone. Sanctification is serious business and it must contend with the atmospheric influence of the world, the flesh and the devil– peer pressure, systemic influence and worldly rituals. Given the glory of sanctification in Christ, of course there is urgency.
How then can a faithful pastor present something so powerful as optional? We must counteract the worldly rituals– on that we agree. If more rituals are a necessity for the spiritual good of every sheep, how could a pastor fail to urge participation on each and every one? How could one leave them bereft without more rituals? Isn’t that neglect? I am ashen faced at the thought of telling my bi-polar nephew that his meds are optional.
I am aghast at the illogical tolerance that wafts from mixing this 11th century smoldering into this 21st century muck. “Ash Wednesday and the imposition of ashes is one of those helpful rituals that push against the world, the flesh, and the devil.” Helpful? That’s an anticlimax. One of? Apparently, there are others to add. The imposition of ashes by a minister of the gospel is not for every Christian. Are we at the post-modernism part yet?
Does this mean that– which rituals are indifferent, but we must multiply other rituals? Do we need to make things more fitting for people who are ash intolerant? Is this the church’s task, inventing rituals? Thoughtfully the church describes the dire situation. Winsomely, she exposits the theological provisions. Then she earnestly urges, “Don’t just stand there; do something.” And she comforts: “Don’t worry, we’ll make something up.”
Given that worldly rituals are a malicious influence, surely the Word of God provides all the counterweight needful for life and godliness. According to our Standards, are there rituals with such influence? Are rituals so prescribed in our Standards? How on earth can Christians be shaped more by Christ in heaven (Col 3:1ff) than by the rituals of the society we inhabit?
This is about how Christians are enabled to honor Christ with faith and repentance in the world. This is not about naming days in the calendar. This is about the vitals of religion.
Benjamin T. Inman is a Minister in the Presbyterian Church in America and a member of Eastern Carolina Presbytery.
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The gospel contains within itself everything it needs to spread. People are converted through the Holy Spirit using the gospel—giving growth to the seed. The gospel doesn’t need my excellence. It doesn’t need my craftiness. It doesn’t need me to juice it up a bit or to make it nice and shiny or appealing. The gospel—the naked, simple, unadulterated gospel—is enough.

Describe the kingdom of God. What words do you use?
Amazing.
Awesome.
Wonderful.
Exponential.
Mighty.
Terrific.
What analogies would we use? I doubt you’d first think of what Jesus uses in Mark 4. “A sower went out to sow…” How incredibly boring is that? In our society that would be like saying “a fry cook puts in another batch of fries” or “a mechanic twists off an oil filter” or “a secretary files a piece of paper.”
The kingdom of God is like a farmer who goes out and plants a seed. Really?!?!?! Plants a seed? There is nothing exciting about this.
If we stick with Jesus’ analogy here it really doesn’t get any more exciting. The guy in his illustration plants the seed, and you’d expect him to work the ground, water the field, do all the good farmer-things you’re supposed to do. But he doesn’t. He sows the seed and then just waits.
This makes us uncomfortable. The religious leaders of Jesus’ day would have balked at this notion. They expected the kingdom to come because of their moral integrity. The Zealots (of which one of Jesus’ disciples was a part) expected the kingdom to come through a revolution—when the Jews finally decided to stop cowering to Rome. It seems to me that we like to think that God is in heaven just waiting anxiously for us to finally align everything so He can bring the kingdom.
But Jesus kind of shoot a hole in that theory of activity to bring about the kingdom.
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