Nearly one year ago, Erin Hall took the helm as the Clinic’s executive director, helping to expand our mission of justice for the most vulnerable in our communities. Today we interview Erin to learn about her past experience, what promoting justice and mercy means to her personally, and her vision for the future. 

As a believer, I gain great peace in the knowledge that my Lord and Savior is the Great Sustainer, despite my limitations and failures. He keeps His promises to us and in Him, we succeed. In Him, we can start or stop anything. In Him, we have strength.

As God’s children, we have both the ultimate justice and the best place of belonging in our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ. Each of us is known to Him—we are known before we are born into this world and in every circumstance after until we are called Home. Each hair on our heads is known to God. What a staggering concept that is—that we are known, continuously and at that level of detail, by the Maker of Heaven and Earth.

Today, we stand arm-in-arm with those who are pursuing justice following the heartbreaking losses of George Floyd, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, and far too many other people of color who, generation after generation, have lost their lives to racism, marginalization, bigotry, and injustice. The tragic loss of their lives and the ongoing lack of liberty and equality for people of color are painful reminders that we must do more to achieve justice for all. We are all God’s children and black lives matter.

Creative Engagement Coordinator Ashley Caveda recently had the opportunity to interview our brand-new executive director, Amy Horton.

When I was in middle school, I went to the library as often as I could. I read about the Roman legion and the Macedonian phalanx, Alexander the Great and his encounter with the war elephants of King Porus, the American Civil War and great tacticians like Robert E. Lee and Ulysses S. Grant. The librarian would sometimes set aside the latest books she had about war and history, knowing that I would walk through her doors again soon, looking for a new text to devour.

Back in 2008, I told myself that I was probably going to be at the Neighborhood Christian Legal Clinic for two years. Eleven years later, I find it excruciating to say goodbye.

We can live a story that says we are all alone, or a story that says we must keep all of our resources for ourselves, or a story that says to circle the wagons and stick with our tribes because the world is a dangerous place.

But God has given us a better story. The Bible tells us one that is filled with the beauty of God’s presence in the midst of the burdens of human existence. It’s a story that tells us that God has made us in his image and for a purpose. A purpose frustrated by sin and death, yes—but that is why we have him to rescue us from such powers and to restore things to their rightful place.

In the latest Civil Legal Needs Study commissioned by the Indiana Bar Foundation, there is only 1 attorney available for every 10,000 low-income Hoosiers. There are 20 for all others. Moreover, 96% of the legal issues faced by the poor go unrepresented by an attorney.

Justice is ultimately made perfect or complete in the doing of things. Jesus talked about this when he said that the one who heard what he said and then actually put it into practice is like a wise person who built his house on solid ground.

God is what he does, and he does what he is. For us mortals, this is tough—we do things that don’t corroborate who we are all the time. We are divided, desiring to do the good that God has put in front of us, but choosing the bad because, well, you know, things and reasons.

At the Clinic, we say we “promote justice” through the work that God has called us to do. And as we celebrate our 25th year of service to the community this January, I’ve been contemplating what this actually means. Superheroes continue to clean up at the box office and issues of social justice fill our newsfeed—but true justice is so much fuller than our humanly conception. So what, then, is the biblical core of justice?

There are times when I want the whole world to stop for just one second so that I can get my bearings. But change is ever-present, and the needs of the moment continue to batter my psyche. Whether I have relational stress because of getting together with family for the holidays, or financial stress because I’ve overextended myself, or environmental stress from living in a world that badgers me about the things I should care about during the holidays—our lives are made harder by media and people beckoning us to the shoals of dark distraction.

At the Clinic, we cry together due to the myriad ways that humans have devised to harm each other. As we pursue justice, we grow weary at how difficult once-simple petitions have grown. Our immigrant clients come to us for assistance, but the remedies for them recede into the distance.

Where you come from can say a lot about you and what you care about. What you do for a living can be a helpful pointer to deeper things about you. But, as we know, this can go very dark very fast. Whenever we think that a person’s nationality, ethnicity, or some other category can sum them up in some simplistic way, we have veered off into some dangerous territory.

It’s tough, this community thing. On the one hand, I desperately want it. In fact, when my sweet 7-year old daughter asked me what my biggest fear is, I told her, “Well, Kiddo, it’s a little complicated, but I am deeply afraid of being alone. I mean, I like my ‘me’ time, but there’s a part of me that is worried about being abandoned by everyone I love.” She had a what-the-heck look on her face, so I asked her the same question. Her eyes got big as she said, “Fires,” followed up quickly with, “Also, burglars.” We really connected.

Psalm 89:14 says “righteousness and justice are the foundation of [God’s] throne”—so far, so good. Nevertheless, the psalm goes on to say, “love and faithfulness go before you.” God is both just and loving, righteous and compassionate. And that is what he calls us to.

The psalms say that, “God is near to all who call on him, who call on him in truth” (Ps. 145:18). Our clients call out as they feel stymied and oppressed; our staff-team calls out as well; God comes near and provides guidance, comfort, and belonging.

Even awful things are better with other people. Currently, many of our clients are worried about a future that looks uncertain and bleak. Our young immigrant neighbors who have been here since they were children and are wondering why they are now considered “illegal” have just lost some hope. Deferred Action for Childhood Arrivals (“DACA”) provided many of our immigrant youth with the ability to get a driver’s license, a job, and to pay taxes.