Across the landing page of any major news source, people are crying out for justice. In Canada, Stephanie Thorne wants straight answers around the death of her five-year old son. In Germany, people demand Tugce Albayrak, a courageous young woman who lost her life defending others, be recognized. In Ferguson, Missouri, New York City, and across the United States, disbelief and righteous anger resound in the wake of the decisions not to prosecute Darren Wilson or Daniel Pataleo, white police officers, for the killings, respectively, of Michael Brown and Eric Garner, both unarmed black men.

Children have a very keen sense of what is just. Wails of “It’s not fair!” arise when they realize two truths: the needs of others are sometimes more important than their own, and the systems they have been born into are less than perfect. I have seen children attempt to mitigate this by painstakingly sharing toys and food equally between playmates. I have also seen them commit the most naked and animalistic acts of selfishness you could ever imagine. As adults, we try to guide children into understanding, patience, and compassion.

But how well, as a society, do we exhibit these qualities? Do our laws, practises, and attitudes reflect them? Do they reflect justice?

Is it just that in Canada, a country replete with wealth and resources, some of us do not have homes? Is it right that members of our First Nations are more likely to be imprisoned than anyone else? Is it reasonable that child poverty rates are on the rise in Toronto? Is it acceptable that people of colour in this city are disproportionately stopped and questioned by the police? Is it admissible that 50% of women in Canada have experienced physical or sexual violence?

When we witness or experience injustice, we must take steps to correct it. We must take whatever measures we can to work for solutions, and to acknowledge, where appropriate, our role in upholding broken systems and unfair situations. Whether our actions are big or small, public or private, the onus is on each one of us to act fairly, be good allies to each other, and have the courage to make change possible.

I am currently reading the autobiography of Mary Robinson, Everybody Matters: My Life Giving Voice. This woman’s remarkable career includes being a lawyer, the first female president of Ireland, and the UN High Commissioner for Human Rights. Turning the pages, I am struck by her sense of purpose, vision, and work ethic. Ms. Robinson has employed her time working against prejudice, ignorance, and inequality, not without controversy. We are not all cut out to be lawyers, presidents, or UN High Commissioners. But some of us are. Are you called to a similar life? We have a responsibility to go about our daily business in a just way, but I think it’s worth pointing out that some of us have to be big, visible leaders, too. Is this your path?

In light of all this, I call on the words of the biblical prophet Amos: “Let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream.” In our times, the most famous speaker of that verse was Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. When he quoted that text, he was doing more than employing a vivid image to illustrate a point. Dr. King was someone who deeply understood the seriousness of that invitation. To open the way for justice to roll through like a river is to welcome in profound change. In the river of justice, things will be washed away that we may be afraid to lose. But there is no justice at all if there is only justice for some. So let us embrace even the merest amount of Dr. King’s courage, and join in that call. Let us question, let us listen, let us adjust our attitudes, and let us allow a spirit of justice not only to inform our lives, but to profoundly change them.

What does that mean to you?