Dealing with Injustice

When Life Isn't Fair and You Don't Know What to Do About It

Injustice is one of those things that makes your blood boil. Whether it's something happening to you personally or something you're witnessing on the news, the feeling is visceral — this isn't right, and somebody needs to do something. In this Crowd Church talk, James Sloane takes us to the trial of Jesus before the Jewish council and asks a question that's harder than it sounds: how should we actually respond when life is unjust?

A Trial That Broke Every Rule

The passage is Mark 14:53-65. Jesus has been arrested and dragged before the Sanhedrin — the Jewish ruling council of about seventy members. These are the religious elite, the respected community leaders, the men everyone looked up to.

And they're breaking their own rules.

James lays out the irregularities: the trial was conducted at night (illegal under Jewish law), Jesus was misquoted, false testimonies were given, and those testimonies didn't even agree with each other. The text says plainly that they were "looking for evidence against Jesus so that they could put him to death, but they did not find any." This wasn't a pursuit of truth. It was a predetermined outcome looking for justification.

When the high priest finally asks Jesus directly — "Are you the Christ, the Son of the Blessed One?" — Jesus responds: "I am." That's all it takes. They condemn him for blasphemy, spit on him, blindfold him, and beat him.

James makes a striking observation: "Religious tradition was given precedence over divine truth. The tradition of the day, trying to maintain the status quo, trumped what divine truth there was in Jesus himself."

The One Thing Jesus Chose to Respond To

Throughout the entire trial, Jesus is silent. People are lying about him, fabricating charges, contradicting each other — and he says nothing. Until the question of identity comes up.

James finds this significant. Jesus didn't defend himself against the false accusations. He didn't correct the record or argue his case. The only thing he responded to was the question of who he actually was.

"How quick are we to jump to defend ourselves when we're accused of something?" James asks. "How quick are we to get into arguments on social media when someone says something that's not true?" Jesus let all the lies go because he knew they weren't true. He confirmed his identity because that was the one thing that actually mattered.

The implication for us is practical: if you're firmly rooted in who you are, you don't need to respond to every accusation. You don't need to win every argument. You can let the false stuff go and hold on to what's true about you.

When Injustice Is Your Day Job

James speaks from experience. As CEO of Imagine If Trust, he works with people experiencing severe injustice — in Liverpool and in the Democratic Republic of Congo. Street sex workers who feel devalued by society. People battling drug and alcohol addiction. In the Congo, stories of people being attacked with machetes, shot at gunpoint, women who've been raped.

"They are the least amongst us in many ways," James says. "The outcast. But yet that is who God came for. That's who Jesus came to earth to save."

He shares that even in the Congo, pastors are clinging to God, saying: "We trust God. We believe in God to intervene in our situation." It's the kind of faith that doesn't make sense on paper but somehow holds.

James also brings it closer to home. He took his kids prayer-walking along Allerton Road in Liverpool the day before the talk. His daughter Belle wrote notes for each shopkeeper saying "God loves you" as the shops prepared to reopen after lockdown. Mission doesn't have to mean flying overseas. Sometimes it's your own high street.

The Tension Between Silence and Speaking Up

One of the hardest questions from the conversation is this: how do you know when to stay silent and when to speak up?

James references Dee Walker, the mother of Anthony Walker — a young man who was murdered in Liverpool in a racially motivated attack. Dee Walker publicly forgave the killers. That response was counterculture, powerful, and deeply Christian. It wasn't silence in the sense of doing nothing — it was choosing a response that spoke louder than shouting.

"Sometimes there's a sense of you can still bring about justice whilst having a response that will be counterculture," James says. "If you know who you are and whose you are, then your response is completely different."

Matt picks up on this tension honestly. Part of him wants to shout "Come on, Jesus — defend yourself! This isn't right!" when reading the trial passage. That's a normal human reaction. But Jesus chose a different path, and sometimes God's version of justice looks nothing like what we'd expect.

Justice Starts Closer Than You Think

James offers a framework for responding to injustice that starts internally and moves outward.

Trust God's nature. Scripture describes God as a God of justice, but that justice might not arrive on our timeline. Sometimes it requires an eternal perspective.

Pray. When the situation is beyond your control — like the violence in Congo — sometimes the only thing you can do is get on your knees. James doesn't present this as a passive alternative to action. He presents it as the foundation that makes action effective.

Take practical action with wisdom. Whether that's writing to an MP, alerting the press, serving food to people who are shielding, or handing out sandwiches to sex workers at night — the action should be guided by listening to God and asking for wisdom about what to do and when.

Sally adds something she explored in a previous talk: justice isn't always about what happens externally. Sometimes the most just thing you can do is forgive, let go, and deal with your own response. That's not weakness. It's a different kind of strength.

Things You Can Do This Week

1. Check your identity. When someone says something untrue about you, notice your reaction. Do you need to correct every false claim, or can you let it go because you know who you actually are? Practice letting one accusation pass without responding.

2. Pray for a specific injustice. Pick one situation — local or global — and commit to praying about it for a week. Not as a substitute for action, but as the starting point.

3. Do one practical thing. Write an encouraging note for a neighbour. Pray for the shops on your street as you walk past. Buy a coffee for someone who looks like they're having a rough day. Justice often starts small.

4. Examine your own response. Is there someone you need to forgive? A situation where holding on to anger is hurting you more than it's hurting them? Consider whether letting go might be the most powerful thing you can do.

A Different Kind of Victory

The trial of Jesus looks like injustice winning. The religious leaders lied. The legal process was corrupt. An innocent man was condemned. By every human measure, the system failed.

But the story doesn't end there. The very injustice that looked like defeat turned out to be the mechanism for the greatest act of love and restoration in history. That doesn't make injustice acceptable. But it does suggest that God is capable of working through even the worst that humanity can produce.

What would change if you trusted that the injustice you're facing isn't the end of your story?