Missional Justice: Discipleship that Leaves the Building

From Social Justice to Missional Justice: A Biblical Reframing

I was recently accused of being “about social justice”  and that “social justice” is unbiblical. It wasn’t said with curiosity. It was said with backloaded condemnation.

Now, the person who wrote that comment, knows me only as far as the internet has permitted…so maybe there is something to say about it. Of all the people I am “friends” with across social spaces, I know enough about each of them to accuse them of ideologies they must hold…even though I’ve never sat with them, had a real conversation or walked alongside them in their world. I probably shouldn’t even respond to such a criticism…I was accused of being about justice after all…pretty solid ground to stand on.

However, I understand why the critical remark was made, I think. The phrase social justice has become so politicized, so emotionally loaded, and so co-opted by ideologies that often conflict with Christian theology, that many believers now hear it as code for something foreign to the gospel.

Rather than fighting over the label, I want to step sideways from the argument and ask a better question: What does Scripture actually call us to when it comes to how we treat people, engage our communities, and live our faith publicly?

Because when I read the Bible, I don’t see a God who withdraws His people from the brokenness of the world. I see a God who sends them into it.

So instead of debating social justice, I want to offer a different framework: missional justice.

Not justice rooted in ideology. Not justice driven by outrage. But justice that flows from discipleship, mission, and love of God and neighbor.

The problem isn’t that justice is unbiblical. The problem is that the modern meaning of social justice often starts with culture and works backward toward Scripture, rather than starting with Scripture and working outward toward culture.

Today’s version of social justice is often rooted in identity politics, fueled by anger rather than love, built on power struggles, detached from biblical anthropology, and suspicious of grace, forgiveness, and redemption. So when some people hear the phrase “social justice” they recoil.

But abandoning the word justice entirely is not a biblical solution either. Scripture uses justice language constantly. God Himself defines His character around righteousness, mercy, protection of the vulnerable, and fairness. The issue is not justice. The issue is the source and shape of our justice.

Missional justice begins not with activism, but with identity. We are people loved by God, redeemed by Christ, formed into Christlikeness, and sent into the world as witnesses. Justice, in this framework, is not a cause; it is a fruit of discipleship.

Missional justice is simply living out love of neighbor, faithfulness to God, and commitment to human dignity as an expression of following Jesus. It’s not loud. It’s not trendy. It’s not performative. It’s deeply biblical.

Throughout Scripture, God consistently ties faithfulness to how people treat others. Not just belief. Not just worship. Not just theology. But action. The prophets confront injustice constantly. God defends the widow, orphan, foreigner, and poor. Oppression is condemned. Exploitation is rebuked. Neglect of the vulnerable is treated as spiritual failure. This doesn’t make the gospel social work, but it does mean the gospel has real-world implications.

Jesus reinforces this by defining love as tangible, costly, and inconvenient. The Good Samaritan doesn’t affirm dignity from a distance. He crosses the road, spends money, risks involvement, and absorbs inconvenience. That’s not activism. That’s discipleship. Jesus doesn’t ask, “Do you hold the right views?” He asks, “Will you love this person when it costs you something?”

Jeremiah 29:7 offers one of the clearest foundations for missional justice. God’s people, living in exile within a pagan culture, are not told to dominate it or withdraw from it. They are told to seek its peace and flourishing. Not for political gain, but as faithful presence. That posture still defines the calling of God’s people today.

Biblical justice also flows from formation, not outrage. Modern justice movements are often fueled by anger first and love second. Scripture offers a different pathway. Justice flows from humility, compassion, wisdom, patience, courage, truth, and self-control. Micah 6:8 doesn’t say, “Be loud, be reactive, be tribal.” It says, “Do justice, love mercy, walk humbly with your God.” That’s not a protest slogan. That’s a discipleship framework.

And this is where the conversation becomes uncomfortable, because missional justice does not only confront brokenness “out there.” It also confronts distortion inside the church itself.

What grieves me most right now isn’t just the brokenness in our culture. It’s the ugliness coming from inside the church while claiming the name of Christ. I am watching professing Christians mock people instead of honoring them, dehumanize neighbors instead of loving them, and justify cruelty under the banner of “truth.” That is not bold faith. That is not biblical conviction. That is spiritual drift disguised as righteousness.

Some of the loudest voices claiming to defend Christianity today sound nothing like Jesus.

They are quick to outrage, slow to compassion. Quick to condemn, slow to self-examine.

Quick to weaponize Scripture, slow to embody it. They call harshness “courage.” They call arrogance “discernment.” They call contempt “standing for truth.” But when the fruit of our faith looks like hostility, ridicule, fear, and dehumanization, Scripture is clear: something is wrong with the tree.

Missional justice confronts that. It asks uncomfortable questions of the church itself: Are we becoming more loving or more reactive? More like Christ or more like our preferred media ecosystem? More shaped by the Spirit or more shaped by fear? Because spiritual maturity is not proven by how aggressively we argue for truth, but by how faithfully we reflect the character of Christ while doing so.

You can hold firm convictions without becoming cruel. You can contend for truth without forfeiting gentleness. You can resist cultural pressure without losing compassion. Jesus did. The apostles did. The early church did. If our version of Christianity cannot produce humility, kindness, self-control, and love for neighbor—even neighbor we strongly disagree with—then what we are defending is no longer the way of Christ. It is a different spirit entirely.

To be clear, missional justice is not a political ideology, a partisan agenda, or a call to adopt secular frameworks. It is not a replacement for evangelism, not a guilt-driven activism culture, and not a social media identity. It does not require alignment with a political party. It does not require affirming every modern justice movement. It does require asking hard questions about whether our faith is actually shaping how we treat people.

Practically, missional justice looks painfully ordinary. It looks like taking the fears of your neighbor seriously. It looks like caring about whether your community is safe. It looks like advocating for the vulnerable in your circles of influence. It looks like creating spaces where people experience dignity. It looks like refusing to dehumanize people you disagree with. It looks like speaking when silence would enable harm, and showing up when it would be easier to stay comfortable. It’s less about platforms and more about presence. Less about performance and more about faithfulness.

This matters because we are living in an age of fragmentation. Everyone is outraged. Everyone is suspicious. Everyone is convinced the other side is dangerous. Everyone is exhausted. The church cannot afford to become another outrage tribe. We are called to be salt, not fire. Light, not heat. Presence, not pressure. Peacemakers, not culture warriors.

Missional justice allows us to engage brokenness without becoming ideological. It allows us to care deeply without becoming partisan. It allows us to love courageously without losing theological grounding.

So instead of asking, “Are you about social justice?” maybe the better question is this:

Does your faith actually shape how you love people in the real world?

Because if following Jesus doesn’t touch how we treat outsiders, how we speak about the vulnerable, how we engage suffering, how we steward influence, and how we pursue peace in our communities, then what kind of discipleship are we actually practicing?

You don’t need to embrace a cultural label to live out a biblical calling. You don’t need to borrow secular frameworks to obey Jesus. You simply need to be faithful. Love God. Love your neighbor. Seek the good of the place God has planted you. Walk humbly. Practice mercy. Tell the truth. Refuse to dehumanize.

If someone wants to call that justice, I’m okay with that.

I’ll keep calling it what it really is: discipleship that has left the building.