I read a definition of injustice as “people with power taking something from people who lack power.” I like that. The context involved helping to free women and young girls in south Asia who are forced into prostitution. That’s a rather obvious case of injustice. So was American slavery, and our treatment of native Indians. So is the way cities seize private homes, via imminent domain, to satisfy the greed of wealthy businessmen wanting to build expensive condos.

Injustice also arises in very small ways. I think of Josh, a young man who showed up at our church a few months ago after having been out of state for a few years. He had gotten his life in order, and was excited about going back to school to get his GED. After getting his GED, he planned to join the Marines. So he had purpose in his life.

But he didn’t have a car. He planned to get his GED at North Side High School in Fort Wayne. But when he met with an administrator there, he was told that he would need to attend Elmhurst High School. Most of the kids in our neighborhood are bused to Elmhurst, located many miles away on the south side of the city. North Side is closer, and Josh told me he could walk there.

But because of some rigid rule and an equally rigid administrator, Josh’s plans were dashed. He told me this one Sunday in August. I decided that the next time I saw Josh, I would offer to go with him to North Side, to plead his case for a reasonable exception. But that was the last time I saw Josh, and I wonder what has happened to him.

An injustice occurred. Josh needed an advocate to go up against persons of power–in this case, an uncaring school administrator hiding behind a policy. It was a little thing to that person, a simple matter of saying, “Sorry, we can’t do that.” But to Josh, the ramifications were huge.