Social Justice

There is a guy that I really admire whose name is Shane Claiborne (pictured to the left). You've probably heard of him. He lives in voluntary poverty in Philadelphia and spends his time helping to feed and clothe the homeless. He has written a couple of books, and one of them is called The Irresistible Revolution, which I've quoted previously on this blog and that you simply must read. Shane is a true revolutionary who's life and ministry have brought healing and hope to thousands of people. He lives amongst the most impoverished people in the city. He helps feed as many hungry people as possible. He goes to the forgotten places, and breathes life into people who have lost hope. A couple of months ago, I heard someone criticizing Shane and his approach to ministry. The basis of this criticism was that Shane was not spreading the gospel (i.e., handing out tracts with food) in his helping to feed and clothe the homeless.

I don't understand this kind of criticism. I really don't. I don't understand the impulse to view social justice as merely a tool to persuade people to think like we do. I recently found myself in a conversation with someone who is a Christian. He had heard me talking to someone else about the issue of human trafficking (about which I'm very passionate and believe that it is possibly the single greatest crime against humanity that exists today), and he started asking questions. I thought he was genuinely curious, so I was glad to have the conversation. He asked me if I was a part of any groups or subscribers to any newsletters that address the issue of bonded labor. I told him that yes, I contribute to a couple of organizations that are focused on rescuing people from slavery around the world. He then told me the following: "Well, you need to be careful who you give your money to. Some of these organizations are just interested in getting people back to their home villages and they don't try to convert people after they've helped them." I know that Jesus says we're to be loving to one another, but I really just wanted to punch the guy in the mouth. To suggest that a twelve year-old girl isn't worth rescuing from forced prostitution if she's not going to become a Christian is absurd and offensive. I graciously told him that I would give my money to anyone who would effectively set people free.

I was recently having lunch with someone who is a Christian. He was asking me how things were going at the church where I work. I told him that I was really excited about a ministry that we had started called Oasis. This is a ministry that offers assistance and aid to people who are struggling in some way. One example of this ministry's function was this: there is a woman who is a friend of our community who works with families who are in poverty in Fort Worth. As a service to these families, this woman wanted to teach parents how to prepare inexpensive meals using only a crock-pot. The only problem was that none of these people owned a crock-pot. So, we put the word out, and the Oasis ministry collected over 30 crock-pots and gave them to these underprivileged families in Fort Worth. Now, there are parents in over 30 homes in Fort Worth who can feed their children on an extremely limited budget. After I told this story to this Christian friend of mine, he had only one question: "So, how many of those parents were saved?" I'm not sure I even fully comprehended the question. Saved from what? Starvation? From not being able to feed their children? From hopeless desperation? I'd say all of them. Of course, that's not really what he was asking. He wanted to know how many of these parents, upon receiving their crock-pots, immediately joined a Bible study and started wearing WWJD bracelets (not literally, but I think you get what I'm saying). His question said to me, "I don't care that hungry people are fed. I want to know how many evangelical points you scored."

I am so very tired of Christians expecting each other to have some sort of agenda when they help people. Is this really what we're supposed to do? When the book of James says, "Religion that God our Father accepts as pure and faultless is this: to look after orphans and widows in their distress," did he accidentally forget to add that last part that says, "...so that you can coerce them to agree with your worldview"? I never see Jesus criticizing people for not converting enough "sinners" to his way of thinking. I do, however, see Jesus constantly criticizing religious people for neglecting the poor, oppressed, and marginalized (for example, see Matthew 23:23-24, Matthew 25:31-46; Luke 16:19-31, etc.).

I just finished reading a book by a guy named Hemant Mehta. You may have heard about him; he's the atheist who sold his soul on Ebay and went to church as a result. In case you're wondering, he did not become a Christian as a result of the experiment. He did, however, write a very perceptive and helpful book entitled I Sold My Soul On Ebay. In this book, he offers some incredibly helpful insights on how churches (who claim to want to reach atheists) can best have an impact on the people who are skeptical of Christians and the Church. Mehta writes this:

“When we atheists see how a church is making a positive difference locally and globally by meeting crucial physical needs of people, it’s hard to argue that churches are not a valuable part of society or that they should not be supported in their work. In fact, I wish more atheist groups would emulate that aspect of these churches’ missions." (page 141)

He's basically saying that, from his perspective, the greatest impact that churches could possibly have is contingent on their willingness to come to the aid of people regardless of whether or not they agree with us. When we enter into a scenario to offer help and are perceived as having some sort of agenda, we actually do damage to our own cause. Mehta goes on:

“If the church seemed more interested in helping needy people, that would be a tremendous statement in its favor in the eyes of the nonreligious. And just as importantly, it would generate interest and involvement among church members." (144)

It's more attractive to help people without an agenda. It's more compelling to offer oneself simply because there is a need that can be met. You wouldn't think it would take an atheist to explain this to a Christian, but here we are.

I should say that I do not, in any way, disagree with the act of evangelism. I fully believe that we are responsible to tell others about Jesus and what he has done and continues to do. My point in writing this is not to suggest that we do away with evangelism. I'm simply suggesting that, quite often, our evangelical actions would be much more effective if we would simply concentrate on showing people what Jesus was like instead of always trying to persuade, coerce, and argue. An ironic element to this is that I have always heard Christians say things like, "Actions speak louder than words," but then they just keep talking and doing nothing. Why is it that so many Christians who say this kind of thing don't seem to believe it enough to simply keep their mouths shut and help people with no strings attached? Do we not have enough faith in the power of the act of service to do the speaking for us?

I believe that Jesus called us to make disciples. However, I also believe that Jesus called us to be disciples. And, based on my reading of Jesus' teachings, a disciple is someone who helps the poor and oppressed; who comes to the aid of the orphan, the fatherless, and the widow; who clothes the naked and feeds the hungry. Jesus did not command these things because he knew that they would be effective evangelism techniques. He commanded these things because they reflect the heart of God.

We don't help the poor and oppressed so that they will immediately believe in Jesus (although we pray that they will eventually). We come to the aid of the poor and oppressed because we already believe in Jesus.

The Way Things Were Meant to Be (Shalom)

A couple of days ago, I tried to clean out my car. The reason I use the word "tried" is because I was unsuccessful in the attempt. It was too big a job for me. There was way too much junk for me to get it all with one try. I spend about six hours a week on the road and, as a result, my car has become unbelievably messy and gross.

It wasn't always like this, though. I bought the car three years ago and, at the time of purchase, it was perfect. Instead of smelling like some odd combination of Whataburger and Taco Bell, it had that euphoric scent of New Car. The exterior was once a flawless masterpiece; it now features a series of dents and dings from various hailstorms and tightly-packed parking garages. The windshield, which was was once a clean sheet of see-through glass, is cracked in several places. It is no longer the car that it was meant to be.

Often, we look at the world in terms of brokenness. We have no vision for what it was originally meant to be. Rather, we only see what it currently is: a worn-out, battered, exhausted version of what it was meant to be. We forget that the first two chapters in Genesis are not about the Fall and the failures of humanity. Rather, they are a beautiful picture of a creation which are described by God as "good." These first two chapters show us the way things were meant to be. We see a beautiful picture of people fully connected with God, with others, with the environment, and with ourselves. This state of existence is referred to by Jewish thinkers and rabbis as shalom.

In his brilliant book Engaging God's World, Cornelius Plantinga describes shalom like this:

"The webbing together of God, humans, and all creation in justice, fulfillment, and delight is what the Hebrew prophets called shalom. We call it ‘peace,’ but it means far more than just peace of mind or cease-fire between enemies. In the Bible, shalom means universal flourishing, wholeness, and delight—a rich state of affairs in which natural needs are satisfied and natural gifts fruitfully employed, all under the arch of God’s love. Shalom, in other words, is the way things are supposed to be." (15)

As he points out, shalom is not fully described as "peace." It is a full, holistic return to the way things were meant to be. Shalom does not simply clean out the car; it makes the car new again. As we look through the stories of Scripture, we see that this is what Jesus came to do: to restore shalom and bring restoration to all that has become broken and bruised. This is God's plan for all of creation. In hundreds of different ways, God promises to rebuild what's been broken and to restore what has been soiled.

Our role as the church is to participate in this restoration. We are to bring the presence of Jesus into every corner of this world and to reveal shalom in every possible way. This is the concept of living within the Fifth Act of the grand narrative (see previous post entitled "Narrative Theology"). We participate by bringing justice to people who have none; by offering relief to those who struggle; to refuse to participate in exploitation and oppression; by allowing ourselves to know and be known with others in genuine community; by seeking to claim all of the broken pieces of ourselves and pursuing inner wholeness. We participate in this movement of restoration by seeking the shalom of what was originally meant to be.

I know this hasn't been particularly long or story-laden, but it's just something I've been thinking and reading about a lot lately. I'll end this post with a quote from Shane Claiborne's book The Irresistible Revolution:

"We do indeed have a God of resurrection, a God who can create beauty from the messes we make of our world." (67)