Good Intentions Don’t Fix Broken Systems

I once wrote, “Charity is necessary. But charity without justice is complicit in supporting systems that create the need for charity.”

That sentence did not come from a theory book or a clever brainstorming session. It came from years of watching good people show up again and again, doing the right thing, and still feeling like nothing ever really changes.

It came from standing next to folks who give generously and honestly want to help, but quietly wonder why the same needs keep coming back, week after week, year after year.

Charity matters. 

I believe that deeply. 
I have seen charity save lives. 
I have seen it keep families afloat. 
I have seen it remind people they are not alone.

But I have also seen charity get asked to carry a weight it was never meant to bear by itself.

Charity Shows Up First. Justice Asks What Comes Next.

When someone is hungry, you feed them. 
That is not complicated. 
You do not ask questions first. 
You do not lecture. 
You just help.

That is charity at its best.

But eventually, if you keep seeing the same faces, the same lines, the same stories, something in you starts to ache. You start wondering why working people cannot afford groceries. Why rent keeps rising while paychecks do not. Why getting sick can still bankrupt a family.

Charity helps people survive the moment.
Justice asks why survival is such a struggle in the first place.

Both questions come from love. One just refuses to stop early.

When Charity Gets Stretched Too Thin

Here is something we do not talk about enough. Charity is often asked to make up for decisions it did not make.

Churches, nonprofits, and neighbors step in where policies fail. We cover gaps created by low wages, expensive healthcare, and housing systems that prioritize profit over people. And while that help is real and needed, it can also leave us exhausted and frustrated.

It can start to feel like bailing water out of a boat while someone else keeps drilling holes in the bottom.

That does not mean we stop bailing.
It means we also start asking who has the drill.

Why This Is Hard for Faith Communities

Charity feels familiar. It feels like something we know how to do. It lets us help without risking much pushback.

Justice is harder. Justice takes longer. Justice can strain relationships. Justice asks us to look at systems we might benefit from, even unintentionally.

It is easier to donate than to organize.
It is easier to serve meals than to question policies.
It is easier to be generous than to be disruptive.

But faith was never meant to be easy in that way.

Love Learns to Stay for the Long Haul

Justice is not charity’s replacement. It is charity’s deepening.

Justice is what happens when love refuses to settle for temporary fixes.
Justice is what happens when compassion grows patient enough to do long work.
Justice is love that stays when the cameras leave.

Love feeds people. 
Justice works so fewer people need emergency meals.

Love shelters people. 
Justice works toward housing that does not disappear with one missed paycheck.

Love gives freely. 
Justice asks how we build a world that does not depend on constant crisis response.

Give. And Then Keep Going.

So yes, give.

Give food.
Give money.
Give your time.
Give your heart.

But also ask hard questions.
Vote with intention.
Pay attention to policies.
Stand with people when systems fail them.

Charity is necessary.
Justice is essential.

And the good news is this. We do not have to choose one or the other. We can show up with open hands today and work for a better tomorrow at the same time. That is not abandoning compassion. That is honoring it.