When Righteousness Feels Lonely - A Cry for Justice in a Broken World

Shalom, dear friends.

I want to share a story with you today. It’s not a parable from ancient times, but a raw, modern moment that left me shaken and seeking the face of our Messiah. It happened just the other day, outside our local library—a place that should be a sanctuary of learning and quiet peace.

We were a small group, five of us, black people, simply waiting for the doors to open. The morning was quiet. Then, an elderly white man approached. I knew him—or rather, I remembered him from before his illness. He was once a vibrant, brilliant man, full of energy and a quick wit. But today, he looked frail, beaten down by sickness, each step a small victory. My heart went out to him.

As he moved to join the line, something ugly unfolded. One of the tall black men who often acts as a self-appointed guardian of the library—usually seen wearing a mask—began to verbally abuse and bully this elderly man. His reason? The man’s sickness. He didn't want him near, didn't want him inside. He was creating a wall of stigma and fear around a man who needed compassion most.

And as I watched, something broke inside of me. A wave of grief washed over me, not just for the man being targeted, but for our collective soul. I thought, Is this the world we’re building? One where our yearning for justice and compassion only seems to birth more injustice? The very cry for equity felt twisted into a license for cruelty.

I couldn’t stay silent. I stepped forward and confronted the masked man. “Stop bullying sick people,” I said. “This only creates stigma.” But righteousness, it seems, often angers the bullies of the world. Instead of relenting, he turned his anger fully on me. The air grew cold. Suddenly, I was the target. And I knew—this wasn’t just an argument. This man was part of a dangerous gang known for violence. In that moment, my desire for justice was met with the chilling reality of fear. I felt utterly alone, and I knew I needed more than my own courage; I needed the courage and protection of Yeshua.

If you have ever stood for what is right and felt the ground grow shaky beneath your feet, if you have ever spoken a word of truth into a situation of lies and felt the backlash turn your blood cold, then this is for you. You are not alone.

The Yeshua Who Stands With Us

In that moment of fear, my mind didn’t first go to strategies of self-defense, but to our Messiah. Yeshua knew what it was to stand against the crowd, to speak truth to powerful systems, and to face the heat of unjust anger.

“Blessed are those who are persecuted for righteousness’ sake, for theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Blessed are you when others revile you and persecute you and utter all kinds of evil against you falsely on my account. Rejoice and be glad, for your reward is great in heaven, for so they persecuted the prophets who were before you.” (Matthew 5:10-12)

Yeshua doesn’t promise a life free from conflict when we choose righteousness. In fact, He guarantees the opposite. But He reframes it entirely. He calls us blessed. The persecution is not a sign of failure, but a sign of alignment with the prophets, with the righteous of old, and ultimately, with Him. When that man turned his anger on me, the fear was real, but the sense that I was, in a small way, sharing in the sufferings of the Messiah was a profound comfort. He was right there with me, reminding me that the kingdom of heaven is the true reward, far beyond any temporary safety.

The Cry of the Psalmist in Times of Fear

My heart was racing. The threat was tangible. Where could I turn? The Psalms have always been the prayer book for God’s people in moments of sheer vulnerability, giving voice to our deepest fears and our sturdiest hope.

“Hear my cry, O God, listen to my prayer; from the end of the earth I call to you when my heart is faint. Lead me to the rock that is higher than I.” (Psalm 61:1-2)

The psalmist doesn’t pretend to be fearless. He admits his heart is faint. He feels far away—“from the end of the earth.” His prayer is not for the problem to instantly vanish, but for God to lead him to a place of safety that is higher than himself. A rock that he could not climb to on his own. In everyday life, this is a practical prayer for our anxious moments: “Lord, I am overwhelmed. I can’t handle this. Lead me to the stability of Your presence, which is greater than my panic.” That rock is Yeshua, our firm foundation. I prayed this silently, asking God to be my rock against the rising tide of threat.

The Call to Courage from the Prophet Isaiah

But what do we do with the injustice itself? The pain of seeing the vulnerable bullied? The despair that things are getting worse, not better? The prophet Isaiah speaks directly into this weariness.

“Learn to do good; seek justice, correct oppression; bring justice to the fatherless, plead the widow's cause.” (Isaiah 1:17)

This verse is a command, but it’s also an antidote to despair. God’s instruction is active. We are to seek, correct, bring, plead. We are not called to be passive observers of a broken world. My small act of confrontation, as frightening as it was, was a part of “correcting oppression.” It was a way of pleading the cause of one who was being treated unjustly. Isaiah reminds us that our faith is not quietistic; it is hands-on. Even when the results aren’t immediate or clear, the act of standing up is itself an act of faith, a participation in God’s character of justice.

The Wisdom of Proverbs in Dealing with the Angry

In the heat of the moment, wisdom is crucial. My initial confrontation was driven by a righteous impulse, but it escalated the situation. The book of Proverbs offers timeless wisdom for navigating conflict.

“A soft answer turns away wrath, but a harsh word stirs up anger.” (Proverbs 15:1)

This isn’t about being a doormat; it’s about strategic peacemaking. A “soft answer” is one that is gentle, respectful, and de-escalating. In practical terms, this might mean, after making my initial stand, choosing not to engage in a shouting match. It might mean using calm, firm language rather than mirroring the aggressor’s anger. It’s the wisdom of knowing when to stand your ground on the principle and when to disengage from a fruitless, dangerous argument. It’s a lesson I am still learning.

You Are Part of This Community of Courage

Friends, the story didn’t end with a dramatic victory. The library doors opened, the tension diffused for the moment, and the elderly man went inside. But the fear and the questions lingered. The world is broken, and standing for tzedek (justice) and chesed (lovingkindness) can be a lonely and frightening path.

But here’s the beautiful truth: we are not meant to walk it alone. We are the body of Messiah. When one part suffers, we all suffer. When one member is afraid, we can surround them with prayer and support.

This ministry, this community, exists to be a place of encouragement—a reminder that we are part of a shared mission to bring the light of Yeshua into the dark corners of our world. It’s a mission fueled by prayer, sustained by encouragement, and advanced by our collective generosity.

If this message has resonated with you, if you too yearn for a community that stands for justice and compassion rooted in Messiah, then I want to gently invite you to join us in this work. You can:

· Pray for courage for all of us who face difficult stands in our everyday lives.

· Share this post with someone who needs to feel seen and supported.

· Send a word of encouragement—it means more than you know.

· Give financially if you feel led, to help us continue creating resources that strengthen and unite our community.

Whatever you do, know that you are a vital part of this family. Together, we can be a people who, even when afraid, choose courage. Who, even when weary, seek justice. Who, because we know the love of Yeshua, extend compassion to the broken and the bullied.

Thank you for walking this path with me. May the God of Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob fill you with His shalom and His strength this day.

B’shem Yeshua,

Kohathite