Don't say "social justice" -- USA TODAY, April 5, 2010
Sunday's Easter celebration provided the bookend to Holy Week, the most sacred but spiritually divisive week of the year. We Christians use this time to focus on the suffering, death and resurrection of Jesus — the one we believe to be the Messiah and son of God. This uniquely Christian belief perplexes not only atheists, but fellow people of faith as well.
At the same time, Jews began their celebration of Passover with a place at the table for the prophet Elijah, the precursor of their still-to-come Messiah.
Muslims gathered for prayer this past Friday, but they did not focus on the cross. In their beliefs, Jesus was neither killed nor crucified, but was raised directly to heaven.
I don't point out these differences in some effort to find a theological common ground. But what's critical for people of these three faiths — or of no faith — to understand is that a lack of doctrinal agreement does not mean that Muslims, Christians, Jews and anyone else cannot work together to advance human causes.
Politics and pastors
Across the country, in fact, the most exciting and productive interfaith efforts involve articulating differences and finding ways to join forces on social issues. Such work is not controversial in my clergy circles, but it inflames the Glenn Becks of the world who say that "social justice" and "economic justice" are code words for communism. Even in local congregations, parishioners accuse pastors of being "too political" when they take action on immigration, housing or health care.
But Beck is right that there is a reluctance among Americans to mix politics and religion. According to surveys by the Pew Research Center, Americans of late have had a change of heart. In 1996, 54% of the public felt that churches should express their views about social and political matters. By 2008, only 45% believed so while a majority — 52% — said churches should keep out of politics. This reticence is understandable when one sees the way politicians use faith, or religions play the game of politics. But religions have a long tradition of uplifting those in need, and we cannot let cynicism keep us from doing what God demands.
In Northern Virginia, an interfaith organization called Virginians Organized for Interfaith Community Engagement (VOICE) is working to preserve affordable housing, increase dental care for the poor and help immigrants. Made up of clergy and laypeople from 45 congregations, this multifaith group speaks with one voice to political leaders while advocating for the homeless and the working poor.
As a Christian leader in VOICE, I accept the fact that the rabbis and imams in the group will not agree with me on the divinity of Jesus. But we are united in our conviction that county and state budgets should not be balanced on the backs of the poor. We pray as individuals but lobby as one.
And then there's Eboo Patel, a Muslim who grew up in the Chicago area. At age 22, he founded the Interfaith Youth Core, a movement that focuses on service and cooperation. This decade-old group contains orthodox believers from a variety of traditions, with wildly divergent theologies. But they are united in their commitment to service — for example, mobilizing tens of thousands of young people to help combat malaria in Africa.
VOICE and Patel's Interfaith Youth Core are but two examples of what I hope will become a trend in religious America, where diversity of faith becomes a strength — just as diversity of color has.
Crossing the minefield
The challenge for religious leaders is to work for change in a non-partisan way, navigating the no-man's land between the extreme right and the far left — and between Republicans and Democrats. It's a minefield, because when clergy work to secure funding for free dental clinics and affordable housing, they run into conservatives who want lower taxes and smaller government. Yet when clergy take action to move parishioners through the current immigration system, they face criticism from progressives who insist on amnesty for millions of illegal immigrants. Because congregations are intimately involved with the poor, interfaith action will always be focused on issues of social justice — or if those two words offend, let's go with the less-controversial "uplifting the needy." But clergy and laypeople know how difficult — and even dangerous this work can be. The Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. gave his life for this cause.
And Jesus? He was nailed to the cross because he was considered to be a political — not theological — threat to the power of Rome. That's a Holy Week message that all faiths can embrace.
Henry G. Brinton is pastor of Fairfax Presbyterian Church in Virginia and author of Balancing Acts: Obligation, Liberation, and Contemporary Christian Conflicts.
At the same time, Jews began their celebration of Passover with a place at the table for the prophet Elijah, the precursor of their still-to-come Messiah.
Muslims gathered for prayer this past Friday, but they did not focus on the cross. In their beliefs, Jesus was neither killed nor crucified, but was raised directly to heaven.
I don't point out these differences in some effort to find a theological common ground. But what's critical for people of these three faiths — or of no faith — to understand is that a lack of doctrinal agreement does not mean that Muslims, Christians, Jews and anyone else cannot work together to advance human causes.
Politics and pastors
Across the country, in fact, the most exciting and productive interfaith efforts involve articulating differences and finding ways to join forces on social issues. Such work is not controversial in my clergy circles, but it inflames the Glenn Becks of the world who say that "social justice" and "economic justice" are code words for communism. Even in local congregations, parishioners accuse pastors of being "too political" when they take action on immigration, housing or health care.
But Beck is right that there is a reluctance among Americans to mix politics and religion. According to surveys by the Pew Research Center, Americans of late have had a change of heart. In 1996, 54% of the public felt that churches should express their views about social and political matters. By 2008, only 45% believed so while a majority — 52% — said churches should keep out of politics. This reticence is understandable when one sees the way politicians use faith, or religions play the game of politics. But religions have a long tradition of uplifting those in need, and we cannot let cynicism keep us from doing what God demands.
In Northern Virginia, an interfaith organization called Virginians Organized for Interfaith Community Engagement (VOICE) is working to preserve affordable housing, increase dental care for the poor and help immigrants. Made up of clergy and laypeople from 45 congregations, this multifaith group speaks with one voice to political leaders while advocating for the homeless and the working poor.
As a Christian leader in VOICE, I accept the fact that the rabbis and imams in the group will not agree with me on the divinity of Jesus. But we are united in our conviction that county and state budgets should not be balanced on the backs of the poor. We pray as individuals but lobby as one.
And then there's Eboo Patel, a Muslim who grew up in the Chicago area. At age 22, he founded the Interfaith Youth Core, a movement that focuses on service and cooperation. This decade-old group contains orthodox believers from a variety of traditions, with wildly divergent theologies. But they are united in their commitment to service — for example, mobilizing tens of thousands of young people to help combat malaria in Africa.
VOICE and Patel's Interfaith Youth Core are but two examples of what I hope will become a trend in religious America, where diversity of faith becomes a strength — just as diversity of color has.
Crossing the minefield
The challenge for religious leaders is to work for change in a non-partisan way, navigating the no-man's land between the extreme right and the far left — and between Republicans and Democrats. It's a minefield, because when clergy work to secure funding for free dental clinics and affordable housing, they run into conservatives who want lower taxes and smaller government. Yet when clergy take action to move parishioners through the current immigration system, they face criticism from progressives who insist on amnesty for millions of illegal immigrants. Because congregations are intimately involved with the poor, interfaith action will always be focused on issues of social justice — or if those two words offend, let's go with the less-controversial "uplifting the needy." But clergy and laypeople know how difficult — and even dangerous this work can be. The Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. gave his life for this cause.
And Jesus? He was nailed to the cross because he was considered to be a political — not theological — threat to the power of Rome. That's a Holy Week message that all faiths can embrace.
Henry G. Brinton is pastor of Fairfax Presbyterian Church in Virginia and author of Balancing Acts: Obligation, Liberation, and Contemporary Christian Conflicts.
posted by Henry Brinton | 1:01 PM
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