The Roots of Injustice

The Tears of Things

It’s important for us to understand that collective evil isn’t just about the actions of individuals, but rather the systems and cultures that perpetuate harm on a large scale. Culture and systems are what create the large-scale evils that threaten us—such as poverty, war, and ecological devastation. [1] These systems are deeply ingrained in the fabric of our societies, and they continuously foster conditions where harm becomes inevitable. When we focus on individual wrongdoing without questioning the structures that allow such harm to occur, we miss the point entirely. Poverty is not just a matter of poor choices made by individuals, nor is war simply the product of a few aggressive leaders. These are outcomes of deeply entrenched systems that allow injustice to perpetuate, and addressing them requires a transformation of these systems themselves, not just an overhaul of individual behavior (Isaiah 1:17; Micah 6:8).

Yet, despite this, we often find ourselves misdirecting our moral focus. We focus so intently on the “bad guys,” assuming that if we just punish or convert them, we can create justice. But that’s not how change happens. Nothing will ever change if we merely convert, imprison, or judge ‘bad guys.’ [1] The truth is that focusing only on the individual allows the systems that produce these individuals to remain unchecked. For instance, we might send one corrupt business tycoon to jail, but we fail to address the economic systems that empower people to exploit others in the first place (Matthew 23:23-24). We put all our energy into punishing individuals, yet the larger forces that enable injustice remain untouched, continuing to create the conditions for exploitation, suffering, and inequality. The real work of justice is not simply about punishing wrongdoers but transforming the underlying structures of power, wealth, and influence that keep injustice alive (Luke 4:18-19).

Religion, too, plays a pivotal role in either upholding or challenging these systems of injustice. At its best, religion is meant to provide a vision of the world as it could be—full of generosity, love, and justice. Religion and God, almost by definition, are meant to keep us living in the utterly big picture, the generative and generous state of mind that Jesus called the reign of God. [1] This idea of the reign of God points to a world where the values of peace, love, and justice aren’t just abstract ideals but lived realities. The prophets of old understood this well—they didn’t just look at the world through the lens of laws or doctrines; they saw the deep, lived truth in the relationships of love, care, and justice that sustain a healthy society. When religion fails to speak to these broader issues—focusing only on personal salvation or ritual—it loses its transformative power and becomes irrelevant in the face of real-world suffering (Matthew 6:33; Luke 17:20-21).

This brings us to the example of the Hebrew prophets, who were far ahead of their time. These figures were not simply moralists focusing on individual wrongs but rather critics of the systems that perpetuated collective evil. The prophets, far ahead of their time, learned that it is social sin that destroys civilization and humanity. [1] They understood that social sins—things like economic exploitation, political corruption, and systemic inequality—were the true threats to civilization, not just the personal failings of individuals (Isaiah 10:1-2; Jeremiah 7:5-7). Their critique wasn’t just about calling out the bad actions of rulers or priests; it was about naming the systems and structures that allowed these injustices to continue. The prophets understood that the real enemy wasn’t a group of individuals, but the systems themselves that produced and maintained injustice. This perspective is just as relevant today as it was thousands of years ago. If we want real change, we must address the roots of injustice that lie within our societal systems (Amos 5:24).

And while it may seem that the wisdom of these ancient voices has been lost, there is still much we can learn from them. The Hebrew prophets found their truth not in books and laws, but in questions of love at its most unsentimental and mature level. [1] They didn’t just rely on religious texts or doctrines to discern the truth; they listened deeply to the lived experiences of those suffering under oppression. They understood that love, in its most profound and mature form, was the antidote to the evils that plagued their societies. This love wasn’t naive or sentimental; it was tough, it was real, and it demanded change. Today, if we want to live justly, we too must center love—love that demands justice, that sees beyond individual wrongdoing to the larger systems that perpetuate harm (Micah 6:8; Matthew 22:37-39).

At the heart of all of this is the idea of justice, which we often misunderstand. We equate justice with the punishment of wrongdoers, as if sending people to prison is the ultimate act of justice. Justice, most of us believe, is when we send bad guys to jail! ... But we don’t dare convict the whole system of massive injustice and deceit. [1] But justice, in the prophetic sense, isn’t just about punishing individuals—it’s about radically transforming the systems that perpetuate suffering. Justice is about confronting the lies that are built into the structures of society, and it demands much more than incarceration or punishment. True justice involves dismantling the systems of inequality, exploitation, and oppression that hurt the most vulnerable people. It requires a fundamental rethinking of what it means to be just and who truly benefits from our systems of punishment (Matthew 23:23-24; Amos 5:24).

We must confront our collective responsibility. It’s easy to believe that change happens in isolated, individual acts, but the truth is that lasting change requires a collective effort to challenge the systems that sustain injustice. Nothing will ever change if we merely convert, imprison, or judge ‘bad guys.’ [1] The work of justice cannot be done by one person, one institution, or one movement alone—it requires all of us. It’s a collective responsibility to build a world where justice and love are the foundations of society, where systems no longer perpetuate harm but instead serve the flourishing of all people. This is the vision the prophets gave us: a world where we are all responsible for the common good, a world where no one is left behind, and where the systems we live within are reimagined for the benefit of all (Romans 12:4-5; 1 Corinthians 12:12-27).

[1] Richard Rohr, The Tears of Things