Justice for All

W hat a privilege it is to stand before you today as your Social Responsibility Facilitator for this year, and what a blessing it has already been to witness the work of this congregation and to meet so many of you here. I may be a relative newcomer to this congregation, but one thing is already clear: good things are happening at Jefferson Unitarian Church. Next week, we will dedicate the new building expansion here at JUC, which already houses a thriving religious education program and a host of groups and meetings, from study groups to social action task forces. The staff at JUC is great, the music program is amazing--and congratulations on getting Peter back from the UUA. Recent Sunday attendance has been so high that two weeks from today, we will go to three services, using the new chapel for a new 8:00 service, and moving the second service to 9:30. All I can say is, “Wow.”

As I look beyond our expanded walls to the broader community and to the wider world in which we live, I wish I could say with equal enthusiasm that good things are happening all around us. Oh, the world is full of beauty and wonder, and it is a miracle just to be alive on this planet, but there is also suffering, some of it almost too much to bear. There will always be suffering in life, and one of the roles of religious community is to help us cope with the suffering that is an inevitable part of the human condition. But there is also a great deal of suffering that we human beings inflict upon each other, suffering that does not have to be. As religious liberals, we cannot simply overlook this suffering in hope that it will be remedied in a future life. Perhaps there is some form of existence after death, but we only know of this life for sure–and even if there is some future realm, how better could we prepare for it than to bring justice and love to the world we are in now? To seek justice and to engage in the ministry of social responsibility is another essential role of religious community, especially for us as Unitarian Universalists.

The dedication of our new facilities next week falls on the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday weekend, so today we look ahead to that holiday and remember the life of Dr. King. The fact that we have this holiday speaks to King’s legacy and accomplishments, but the work of social justice and civil rights to which he committed his life is far from done today. Even his holiday was not established without controversy; I moved with my family to Denver two years ago after more than a decade in Jackson, Mississippi, and the only way the birthday of Martin Luther King, Jr. was recognized in that state was by making the holiday a celebration of Robert E. Lee’s birthday at the same time. Racism and injustice are alive and well, not only in Mississippi, but wherever we go, even if often in more subtle forms than was the case forty years ago.

Combatting racism is challenging enough, but it’s only part of the unfinished work. Martin Luther King cared deeply about issues of peace and economic justice in addition to issues of race and civil rights. Yet today we are killing and being killed in war at a higher rate than at any time since the Vietnam War. We live in a world of enormous economic injustice, where three billion people, half the world’s population, live on less than $2 a day, a billion of them on virtually nothing. In our own nation, the richest in the world, over 40 million people lack health insurance, and the gap between the pay of corporate executives and the average pay of workers in the same corporations has grown from a ratio of 20:1 a few years ago to about 400:1 today.

Our courts and our government have begun a retreat from many of our civil rights, and there is danger of much greater erosion in the future. Progress on gay marriage last year was followed by setbacks at the polls, and just last month, a group opposing gay marriage had the gall to begin their march at the tomb of Martin Luther King. Even slavery is not gone from the world; an estimated 27 million people live in slavery today, mostly debt slaves on farms or in factories, brothels or sweatshops. Where is the voice of Martin Luther King today? A litany of all the world’s woes would go on much longer, including everything from environmental destruction to homelessness, land mines, overpopulation, child abuse, and–now we know–even seemingly obscure problems such as the lack of tsunami warning systems in the Indian Ocean.

It can all be very overwhelming.

Our role as individuals is not to think we can somehow take all of this on, to be a savior and to carry the world on our shoulders. The first challenge is simply to open our eyes, and not to be so overwhelmed by the suffering of the world that we just close them again and do nothing. Our task is to start where we are, to take one small first step, and then another, and another. The best place to begin is to savor and love being alive, and to cultivate a passion for justice not out of guilt or shame, but because we care about other people–all people, not just our own group or tribe–and we want everyone else to be able to savor and love life, too. It’s not about beating ourselves up, it’s about lifting ourselves up. And we can lift so much more when we act together in community.

The Unitarian Universalist call for social justice is deeply rooted in our principles. ‘Justice’ is one of the only words which appears twice in our statement of principles: “Justice, equity, and compassion in human relations,” and “The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all.” The first use of the word is more interpersonal and relational, the second use more global and political. Part of why justice is included in both of those senses is that ‘justice’ is a tricky word to define. People have defined it in terms of fair process or equitable results; in terms of merit or need; in terms of retribution or reconciliation. A google search on definitions of justice produces a long and interesting list–I have to admit my favorite was a person who simply defined justice as “When kids have kids of their own.”

However we define justice, it has something to do with right relationships among human beings; with treating people as people, not things; with a movement toward what Martin Luther King, Jr. and many others have called “the Beloved Community.” The world has plenty of unnecessary suffering, oppression and alienation that is unjust by any definition of the word. Usually, injustice involves some form of denying the inherent worth and dignity or the full humanity of other persons, either explicitly or implicitly. Few of us really believe that the joy or suffering of other persons is any less real or important than our own, but it is too easy to act as if we believe that.

We sometimes act in denial of our interconnectedness as well. I might rather not know if my morning coffee or orange juice were produced with virtual slave labor, but the more we develop spiritual disciplines of honesty and awareness of our interconnected lives, the more we are compelled to face issues of social justice. We can’t afford to simply close our eyes, either spiritually or politically. In the words of Dr. King, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.” If we forget our interconnectedness with the rest of the world, including with the systems of nature as well as human relationships, we do so at our own peril.

Just as the concept of justice is deeply rooted in our Unitarian Universalist principles, history and theology, so should the work of justice be deeply integrated into the life of our congregations. Pastoral care for people within our congregation and serving or seeking justice for people outside our congregation are not really so different–they are both about caring for people. Education about social justice can easily be integrated with other forms of religious education, and the inspiration for social justice work can be found in worship, music or small groups. Much of this is already happening at JUC, and even more is possible. But as we engage in social justice work together, a few cautions are in order.

First, social justice work can sometimes be scary and it is not without cost. Martin Luther King, Jr. gave his life for civil rights, as did Unitarian Universalist minister James Reeb and many others. When I moved to Mississippi fourteen years ago, I had never lived in the South before (I grew up in Iowa), and I made the mistake of reading the book “We Are Not Afraid” about the Goodman, Schwerner and Chaney murders just before I got there. Unfortunately, the effect of reading that book was that I was afraid–I had paranoid images in my mind of cars with their headlights turned off following me down deserted country roads. Then, my first day in Mississippi I went to buy a frozen yogurt cone. Along with the yogurt, the person at the drive-through window handed me literature from the right-wing John Birch Society, and I thought, “Oh, no!” As it turned out, I had little to fear. I was welcomed by more people than I expected, and I went on to become deeply involved with nonprofit organizations working on all kinds of issues within that state. I met some of the finest social activists I have known in Mississippi, and strangely, perhaps because of the state’s history, I found people more able to talk about and grapple honestly with issues of race there than in much of the rest of the country.

But the memory of the civil rights era lives on in the windowless sanctuary of the tiny Unitarian Universalist church in Jackson, whose own part-time minister was shot and injured during the 1960s. Sometimes it is necessary to confront unjust powers, and sometimes it provokes a response. There is no guarantee that violence could not emerge again, and there is never a guarantee that social justice work will be without cost to our lives. Reasonable precautions are always reasonable. But I believe it is spiritual poison to make fear a guiding principle in our lives. Facing our fears is essential both for our spiritual growth and in order to be effective in social action.

A second caution is this: none of us is perfect, and we do not need to be. Martin Luther King was not perfect, but he inspired a nation toward justice. A little patience, forgiveness and humor can go a long way in helping us work together well. We all come to a congregation with different gifts and needs, and in all kinds of life circumstances, which are worthy of respect. We can only start where we are, and there is little to be accomplished by judging or shaming each other. Social justice is not about ritual purity in any case, it is about making a difference for the good of others. Social justice is very important, but it is still only one part of why we are here. No one can do it all, and whatever each one of us does toward justice is better than nothing. You never know all that is going on in someone else’s life. So be kind, and give each other the benefit of the doubt. The Beloved Community starts with our own relationships right here.

One more caution is this: because there are so many different needs and causes in the world, some of which are quite complex; because there are different definitions of justice in the world; because we each come with our own experiences and perspectives, we will never have all the same priorities or care about the same issues with equal intensity. And that’s OK. But we must not let these differences divide or paralyze us. The challenges we face in the world are so great, we cannot afford to waste energy becoming our own worst enemies. We need to build relationships and coalitions, not work alone or at cross purposes, if we really want to be effective. There are valid and important differences of opinion on social justice issues, and there are ways to listen to and respect dissenting voices while still organizing and empowering ourselves for action.

One of those ways is to become what Dick Gilbert calls a “community of moral discourse”. By looking together at issues of social justice and morality more deeply in light of our principles and our theology, by examining assumptions, separating root causes from symptoms, analyzing power relationships, and reflecting on different points of view, we avoid simply jumping on bandwagons or parroting anyone’s party line. This moral discourse both feeds our personal spiritual growth and equips us for social action. According to Rev. Gilbert, becoming a community of moral discourse is a necessity for any congregation seeking to fulfill its prophetic imperative. But it does not stop there. Task forces and projects can grow out of this analysis and awareness, creating a balance of direct service, education, social witness, and action. Dick Gilbert’s legacy at JUC is apparent in the models that have already been adopted here, and I look forward to seeing how these models will mature.

As a small part of this process of moral discourse, in the weeks ahead I will be offering a couple of workshop series, one in February on the role of church in society, including the significance of church-state separation for UU social justice work, and another on the theological basis for social action, including the challenges and personal cost of social justice work and the role of our view of human nature. Dr. King himself might have become Unitarian Universalist, for he admired our devotion to the search for truth, but he thought liberal theology was too optimistic about human nature. I wonder if he would still think so today. We do not speak so glibly any more about progress onward and upward forever, and I believe we are more aware today of human failings and what Dick Gilbert calls the “stubbornness of the demonic.”

If anything, the risk is that we will be too pessimistic about what we can do, and as a result do nothing. Our Unitarian Universalist history is rich with leadership and impact for social justice far beyond our numbers. In a congregation as dynamic as this one, who knows what is possible? This congregation has a leadership responsibility, and we need to look at how we work together with other congregations, both UU and in other faith traditions. But just looking at what is available here now, if you want to be a part of social justice work at JUC, the opportunities are already wide open. Sign up for a task force, attend a forum, join the Interfaith Alliance after church today, gather with other members for this year’s King parade (or Marade, as it’s known), witness the swearing in of our new state legislature on Wednesday, or register for an amazing social justice weekend just four weeks from now, when Charlie Clements, head of the Unitarian Universalist Service Committee, will come to speak at JUC.

As we act, we must continue to reflect on the connections between social justice, our UU heritage and theology, and our personal spiritual growth. The world really needs us, especially today. We offer an alternative that is not purely secular to a dominant and dangerous religious ideology in this nation, and that may be part of why our pews have been so full. I somehow find it heartening that we are dedicating our new buildings next week on the Martin Luther King holiday weekend–an appropriate time for a congregation which has dedicated itself so much to social justice and is seeking to do more.

I also encourage you to reflect as deeply as you can on your personal theology and on the place and meaning of justice in your own life. For some of us, the first step toward justice is in our personal lives: examining our habits, or recognizing places where we have hurt others or been hurt and seeking healing for ourselves and others. For some of us, the next step may mean direct action in the realm of lawmaking and policy. Whatever our realm of work, if it is truly for justice, it will flow from an aching love for life and other people, not from ego, guilt or revenge. It will be informed by our deepest principles, reminding us of the full humanity and worth of every person and of the “inescapable network of mutuality” of which we are a part. There is a place for all of us in the work of social justice, and if we act together, not merely alone, we can do even more to build a world of peace and justice for all.

May it be so.