How to Continue Seeking Justice When You’re Burned Out

I think I’m supposed to write this article as a “distant expert.” The reality, though, is that I feel this question in my very bones. I believe with MLK that “the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.” And I believe that Jesus would have us position ourselves with the vulnerable and pursuing biblical justice. Is this not a massive part of the call of Micah 6:8?

I’m also exhausted. Seeking justice (for self or others) feels like the task of Sisyphus, endlessly attempting to roll a boulder up the hill. Each little victory is stamped out by a news cycle and a social media algorithm fueled by the negative. Injustice abounds and it feels as if our efforts are like trying to drain the ocean with a leaky thimble.

How do we keep seeking justice when we’re burned out by the negative news cycle? I’m not an expert, as evidenced by my own feelings of exhaustion today. But by the grace of God, I seem to keep getting back up on the horse and trying to ride another day. Here are a few tips I’ve picked up over the years.

Remember Who You Do This For

For someone who has a heart for justice, one of the more difficult verses to swallow is Mark 14:7. Here Jesus says, ^“The poor you will always have with you, and you can help them any time you want. But you will not always have me.” These words are in the context of the disciples rebuking a woman who uses expensive perfume to anoint Jesus. At first glance it seems that Jesus is saying something like “ignore the poor, focus upon worshipping me instead.”

A verse like this is difficult to swallow because we don’t like the painful reality of Jesus’ outlook upon eliminating poverty. It won’t be eliminated this side of glory. All things will not be made right this side of glory. That truth alone can be discouraging. You’re always going to be pushing that rock up the hill.

But Jesus’ words are also startling because they seem to not care about the poor. His words seem dismissive. Something doesn’t seem right when an elaborate church, with gold-lined columns, has poor people outside its doors. Is this really the heart of Jesus? Is Jesus really telling us to neglect the poor and focus on worship?

Kind of. But it’s in a way that is life-giving and actually helping the poor. Diane Langberg says it better than I could:

“It is not only his work to do with him, but it is his work done for him. You are not working for the ones suffering. You are not working for anyone else looking for their approval or certain status in the church or your community. You are his worker. If you work as if it is for the suffering, then you will be governed by them. Their needs will be your ruler and you will end up in their noise and chaos. They are considered and they must be understood, but the work is done in their life but for your God. He says this, not that; these limits, not those; this response, not that one. The needs of others are not the call nor are they your governance. If their suffering rules you, then the outcome is simply double of the problem. The call is from God, the governance is God’s alone, and from that place in him you enter into the suffering of another.”

The call of God is how we get energy to keep going. He knows us and loves us. We aren’t merely foot soldiers in a quest to make the world a better place. We too are weak. God knows this. As we’re working for justice, it’s encouraging to know that we are working for the One who will eventually make all things right.

Rather than discouraging us from helping the poor, a verse like Mark 14:7 is connecting us to the life-giving source of help. Worship is the fuel for helping.

Disconnect and Go Local

A quick way to get discouraged is to blend your circle of concern with your circle of responsibility. Each person has a sphere of influence. These are things in our life where God is calling us to take responsibility. As an example, a parent has a God-given imperative to take care of the basic needs of their children.

We also have things which are of concern to us, but they are not necessarily within our circle of influence. In other words, we can’t do anything about them. We aren’t directly responsible for them. As an example, a parent can provide an atmosphere of love and care for their children, but we cannot trust in Jesus for them. That’s on them. We pray and entrust them to God’s care.

How does this relate to justice? When we attempt to place things in our circle of responsibility that belongs in our circle of concern, we’ll burn out. We will fizzle because we aren’t equipped for this work or called to this work. If we could then it would be in the other circle. This is the case with many issues of justice we see on social media. What we can do is very limited.

This isn’t the case locally, though. There are still things locally which we cannot control. But you’ll find there are far more things you actually can accomplish on a local level that you cannot do on a wider scale. Besides, this is how you can discern whether your concern for justice is just talk or a real passion.

We can talk a big game when something is in our circle of concern and we can’t do much about it. We can pretend like we would do something. But if we aren’t doing it locally (within our own circle of responsibility) — we wouldn’t do that distant thing if it suddenly was in our circle of responsibility.

Consider disconnecting from many of the things that you can’t do anything about and focus your energies on bringing justice to things you can do something about.

Learn the Lesson of the Loaves

There is a comical scene in the gospels when the disciples panic because they think Jesus is rebuking them for not bringing bread. It’s right after Jesus has just fed 5,000 people and they are on the boat going to a new ministry spot. When Jesus says, “Watch out; beware the leaven of the Pharisees and the leaven of Herod,” the disciples start thinking about their lack of bread.

They had forgotten that Jesus was the great provider. He’s bigger than their lack. They were flat out exhausted when Jesus had told them to give the people something to eat. They were at the absolute limit to their resources. The demands of ministry and the compassion of Jesus is always bigger than we’ll ever have at our disposal.

We will only ever have a meager two loaves and a fish. But this meager offering in the hands of Messiah will feed the multitudes. That is the lesson of the loaves. We’re not called to fix all the problems of the world. We’re called to offer our loaves, our fishes, and our baskets. This one is on Jesus.

Gain an Eternal Perspective

Lastly, we must have an eternal perspective. There is a little word in that MLK quote that I like to gloss over. He says that the arc of the moral universe is long. I don’t like that part of the quote. I like the part about being bent toward justice. But King saw that these things take time — often centuries. And ultimately, we will not see justice until Jesus returns and sets all things right.

This eternal perspective can help us, because it reminds us of the beauty of slow plodding. We know that the gospel of Jesus gets the last word. As such it helps us to know that we’re responsible for these moment-by-moment acts of faithfulness and not necessarily the fruit of our efforts. That is the Lord’s job. We pursue justice. We labor. We love. And we leave the results to God.

Conclusion

I don’t have all of this figured out. I still get discouraged. I still sinfully become weary in doing good. I also have twisted motives and distorted views of things. There are times when I think I’m fighting for justice but in reality, I’m on the wrong side of that moral arc. Thankfully, my muddy efforts are not what will bring about healing and flourishing.

Jesus is setting all things right.

This truth helps me to rest and to labor.

Source
Diane Langberg, Suffering and the Heart of God, 116

Photo credit: ©Getty Images/Georgijevic