Master of Transformational Development
Biblical Justice, Human Rights & Advocacy
At the beginning of this year, The Salvation Army began operating a DME (Direct Micro Expelling) Coconut Oil Plant at one of our churches in North Malaita to provide local jobs in the surrounding villages and generate a sustainable income to fund our mission in the Solomon Islands. While setting up this project, I encountered a number of challenges along the way with the ‘here and now’ mindset of local opportunists attempting to exploit money out of The Salvation Army during the construction of the plant. After months of perseverance and strong leadership, we were up and running. Then in July, I received a phone call to say that our generator had been stolen from the plant by some disgruntled workers who felt they weren’t being paid enough money for their work. While trying to retrieve our generator from the known thieves, they extorted $2,500 SBD from the plant manager for its return. Dealing with this matter at the beginning of the semester was an interesting alignment of circumstances, given the subject matter I was studying at the same time as responding to this situation.
My indignation at the initial theft and subsequent extortion evoked a reaction that leant more towards a form of ‘retributive justice’ than ‘restorative justice’ with little tolerance shown for the cultural thinking driving this behaviour. I was determined to ‘lay down the law’ (so to speak) about what was acceptable behaviour at the plant, which included an uncompromising declaration that the boys responsible would never work for The Salvation Army again, even if the money they took was repaid. The motive behind this hard-line was intended to challenge cultural thinking that has a long history of sabotaging development in North Malaita and to prevent similar attitudes from disrupting the operation of our social enterprise and mission in the future. However, during my follow-up visit to the plant in October my position on handling this matter began to soften after all the reading I had being doing about biblical justice. In particular, during the long journey to North Malaita, I began reading “Compassionate Justice” by Christopher D Marshall, which deeply challenged me with a vision of restorative justice. Marshall’s brilliant exposition of the parable of the Good Samaritan exposed a legalistic spirit within me and caused me to examine who really is my neighbour in the context of this situation. His lens of compassion broadened my expectations of restoration to be more than the recovery of stolen money and the resumption of production, but also a pathway of restoration for those who had wronged the community.
Marshall wrote, “If it is to flourish, then, restorative justice must be anchored in alternative “communities of value,” that is, in communities of people who accord the highest importance to the values of mutual care and accountability, honesty and compassion, confession and forgiveness, and peacemaking” (Marshall 2012, loc. 283). The values highlighted in this statement, which are at the heart of the ethos and mission of The Salvation Army, are better achieved when we “administer true justice; show mercy and compassion to one another” (Zechariah 5:9). This change of posture and pathway of restoration led to a powerful moment on my final night in the village when the boys responsible for the theft approached me one by one to apologise for their actions, after making a commitment to repay the money they stole from the plant.
This situation was not only a significant leadership challenge but a confronting spiritual challenge for me as my investigation and handling of the theft had turned inward to self-examination of my own sense of justice and righteousness. Initially, my compassion and desire for justice centred on those who had been wronged by having their source of income disrupted, which included both the village and The Salvation Army. By extending to the offenders the same compassion and restorative justice my response was reorientated more towards grace than legalism. My reorientated response also had an impact on the local church leaders, who were caught in the tension between their feelings of anger and shame towards the behaviour of the boys and their sense of responsibility for them as members of their community. Culturally, retributive justice is normal with ‘compensation’ being the Solomon Islands way to right wrongs. Community reconciliation only ever occurs after the payment of compensation, which can include cash, shell money, fresh produce and pigs. While seeking compensation beyond the return of what was stolen was never a consideration in my dealing with this matter, the offer of restoration with no demand for compensation was a powerful counter-cultural experience for this church. Who knows, maybe my personal transformation in this space may cast a vision for community transformation in North Malaita?
