When They Call Justice “Division”
Post 19 in the Peaceful Resistance Series
Why Speaking Up Feels Like Betrayal
There’s a phrase I heard a lot growing up:
“Don’t cause division.”
It was always spoken in warning.
As if division was the greatest sin.
As if raising a concern—or even asking a question—meant you were disloyal.
But I’ve learned something since then:
They don’t fear division.
They fear truth that disrupts their control.
The Myth of Unity
In many authoritarian faith spaces, unity is worshiped.
But not the kind built on mutual trust or shared humanity.
This is a brittle, hollow unity—
Built on silence.
Maintained through fear.
Disguised as peace.
You’re told not to question.
Not to challenge.
Not to make others uncomfortable.
Because discomfort is seen as a threat—
not a sign that something might need to change.
False Unity Sounds Like:
“Let’s not talk about that right now.”
“We need to focus on what unites us.”
“We’re all sinners—let’s not judge.”
But unity built on suppression isn’t unity.
It’s self-erasure.
It’s telling the abused to stay silent
so the abuser can keep singing in the choir.
Why Justice Sounds Like Noise to the Comfortable
If you’ve never been harmed by the system—
you’re more likely to defend it.
If you’ve always been heard—
you don’t recognize what it costs others to speak.
So when someone dares to name the injustice,
those in power often hear it as disruption.
Not because it’s untrue—
but because it’s inconvenient.
Truth Sounds Like Rebellion
To those who benefit from silence.
That’s why survivors are called “troublemakers.”
Why whistleblowers are “disloyal.”
Why prophets are always “divisive.”
Because justice speaks in a frequency that privilege doesn’t like.
It interferes with the smooth broadcast of denial.
When comfort is your compass,
you will always see tension as the enemy.
But not all tension is bad.
Sometimes it’s the first sign
that something real is finally being heard.
The Accusation of Division
When you speak the truth, they don’t debate the facts.
They question your motives.
“Why are you stirring things up?”
“Why now?”
“Why can’t you just let it go?”
Because if they can frame you as divisive,
they don’t have to face what you’re saying.
It’s not about the harm.
It’s about maintaining the hierarchy.
What They Say vs What They Mean
“You’re causing disunity.”
→ You’re making me uncomfortable by pointing out what I want to ignore.“That’s not loving.”
→ Love, to me, means never being challenged.“We should focus on forgiveness.”
→ Let’s skip over accountability because it threatens our image.
You become the problem for naming the problem.
Not because you lied.
Not because you exaggerated.
But because you dared to make it visible.
The Truth Will Always Feel Like a Disruption
Truth isn’t quiet.
It doesn’t whisper into systems built on lies.
It shakes the walls.
It flips the tables.
It turns over the carefully arranged altars of reputation and control.
That’s why it feels like betrayal—
because it challenges the illusion that everything was fine.
But speaking up isn’t betrayal.
It’s belonging to the truth more than to the performance of peace.
Real Peace Requires Disruption
Jesus didn’t say:
“Blessed are the conflict avoiders.”
He said:
“Blessed are the peacemakers.”
And peace-making is not silence.
It’s not smoothing things over.
It’s naming what’s broken—
so it can be healed.
If your voice is called divisive—
maybe it’s because it’s finally piercing the echo chamber.
If your truth is labeled dangerous—
maybe it’s because it threatens a comfort that was always built on someone else’s suffering.
Final Reflection: Division Isn’t the Enemy—Deception Is
When people say, “You’re dividing the body,”
ask: “Was it ever whole if some of us had to stay silent to belong?”
Real unity doesn’t fear questions.
It welcomes them.
Real peace doesn’t punish the truth.
It grows from it.
And real love doesn’t require erasing yourself
to make others feel comfortable.
You are not divisive for wanting justice.
You are not disloyal for telling the truth.
You are not dangerous for refusing to disappear.
You are resisting—peacefully, powerfully, faithfully.
Because justice is not the opposite of love.
It’s the expression of it.
NEXT - The God of the Wilderness
