It is heartening that the Catholic Church in India will observe 23 August as "Justice Sunday" — a day dedicated to the biblical call to "learn to do good, seek justice, rescue the oppressed, defend the orphan, plead for the widow" (Isaiah 1:17). In a communique dated 22 July 2026, Archbishop Peter Machado of Bangalore, Chairman of the CBCI Office for Justice, Peace & Development, reminds us that true worship of God is inseparable from the practice of justice. The theme this year — "Justice Begins with Us" — is a challenge to every disciple of Christ to move beyond token piety and become an instrument of God's justice.
Yet, behind this commendable initiative lies a sobering reality. This will be the first time in years that the Church in India is observing Justice Sunday in a structured manner. Since 2014, this important day has been quietly shelved, conveniently forgotten. Why? The answer is uncomfortable but clear.
The Catholic Bishops' Conference of India (CBCI) had first resolved in 1989 to observe the Sunday after Independence Day as Justice Sunday, to raise awareness against caste discrimination and social inequalities. For decades, it was a powerful witness. But in recent years, under a regime marked by rising majoritarianism and crony capitalism, the prophetic voice of the Church has grown conspicuously silent.
This silence is particularly damning given the context. India today is reeling under a cascade of injustices. Corruption at the highest levels is being mainstreamed, with the youth leading unprecedented protests. Religious minorities — Muslims, Christians, Sikhs — face consistent attacks. Dalit Christians and Dalit Muslims are denied their constitutional rights. Adivasis are being systematically stripped of their jal, jungle aur zameen, their lands handed over to corporate cronies. The rich grow obscenely wealthier, while the poor are crushed by unemployment, exploitation, and hunger. Women and gender minorities suffer under patriarchal violence. Environmental degradation is staggering — India ranks 176 out of 177 on the Environmental Performance Index 2026, and projects like the Adani-led Greater Nicobar Project threaten ecological catastrophe. Thousands have been disenfranchised through arbitrary electoral revisions. The list is endless.
In the face of this, Justice Sunday is not merely a ritual; it is a moment of reckoning. It demands an authentic, visible, and vocal response from the Church. But the sad truth is that many in the Church have abdicated that prophetic role. A few brave voices aside, the hierarchy, clergy, religious, and laity have largely chosen complicity over courage. Some leaders have openly kowtowed to a fascist regime, betraying the person and message of Jesus. Others are paralysed by fear, self-interest, or comfortable indifference, muttering, "Why bother, as long as I am not affected?"
This is not the Gospel. Jesus told us, "Fear no one." The 1971 Synod of Bishops on Justice in the World warned that injustice is a grave sin, and that the Church must "listen with a humble and open heart" to God's word, finding new paths for action. Pope Francis, in Evangelii Gaudium, insisted that a prophetic voice must be raised when the dignity of the human person and the common good are threatened. And Pope Leo XIV, in Dilexi Te and Magnifica Humanitas, goes further: he calls for an examination of conscience within the Church itself, urging us to confront "structures of sin" — including inequality, lack of transparency, and abuse of power — not only in society but within ecclesial structures. True justice, he insists, requires acknowledging harm, making reparation, and preventing recurrence.
The question, then, is not whether we observe Justice Sunday, but whether we are willing to live its message. Will our dioceses, parishes, and institutions mainstream justice in their own lives? Will we accompany the victims of injustice in their struggle? Or will we once again turn this day into a hollow gesture, a liturgical performance devoid of transformation?
Archbishop Machado puts it powerfully: "Justice begins with us — when we choose truth over falsehood, compassion over indifference, service over self-interest, and love over prejudice." He calls us to become builders of justice in our families, our parishes, and our nation. But that call will ring hollow if we do not first examine our own silence, our own complicity, our own failure to speak and act.
Justice Sunday 2026 must not be a one-day affair. It must be a turning point — a moment when the Church in India rediscovers its prophetic identity, stands with the oppressed, and dares to speak truth to power. Lasting transformation begins with each one of us. But it begins only if we are willing to be transformed ourselves.
The victims of injustice are waiting. Will the Church answer?
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Fr. Cedric Prakash SJ is a human rights, reconciliation and peace activist, and writer
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