Injustice is real! Suffering is real! God is real!

The Dalai Lama has been an admirable symbol of courage around the world and continues to trouble the Chinese Communist regime with his steadfast presence and his hold on his people and their aspirations. His inability or unwillingness to integrate injustice and suffering with his worldview, however, limits him. It is interesting to contrast him with his friend Desmond Tutu. Both of them have famous laughs. As has been noted by several observers, however, the Dalai Lama often uses his laugh to deflect attention from unpleasant subjects. He and Tutu are friends, but Tutu never laughs in that way. His laugh is an eschatological sign of God’s triumph over evil. He has felt the intensity of the struggle in his bones in a way that does not appear either in the demeanor or in the writings of the Dalai Lama. For him, suffering is the way to compassion, which is the way to happiness and the cessation of suffering. His teaching often sounds as if suffering and compassion were not connected to actual suffering human beings at all, but are stages along the way to personal happiness and even “achieving one’s goals.” Dalai Lama, with Howard C. Cutler, The Art of Happiness: A Handbook for Living (New York: Riverhead Books, 1998), 128-30, 228, 310, and various other passages throughout.—Fleming Rutledge, The Crucifixion, 124 n. 40

Giving a voice to the voiceless

It makes many people queasy nowadays to talk about the wrath of God, but there can be no turning away from this prominent biblical theme. Oppressed peoples around the world have been empowered by the scriptural picture of a God who is angered by injustice and unrighteousness. The humor and exuberance of a freedom fighter like Desmond Tutu are evoked, fueled, and sustained by the conviction that God is on the side of those who are defenseless and voiceless, who have no powerful friends, who are abused and oppressed by the system.—Fleming Rutledge, The Crucifixion, 129

Justice, mercy, and forgiveness

The well-known passage in Micah 6:8 (“What does the Lord require of you . . . ?”) declares that justice and mercy are two foundational aspects of God’s character. Working out the relation between the two is an essential task of Christian theology, preaching, and pastoral care. In our own time this has become a particularly pressing question. There is a widespread impression that Christian forgiveness can be construed separately from the question of justice — that, in fact, forgiveness can be offered without reference to justice. However, forgiveness is by no means as simple or expeditious as is often suggested; it is a complex and demanding matter. The question of forgiveness and compensation really should not be discussed apart from the question of justice. When a terrible wrong has been committed and an apology is offered, the person or persons wronged may be justified in feeling that too much is being asked of them. If the impression is given that the wronged parties are simply supposed to “forgive and forget,” the wrong will linger under the surface and cause further harm.—Fleming Rutledge, The Crucifixion, 114

Justice

This last verse [Deut 10:19] contains a key idea: the care given by the community to its weakest members, and even to those who are not members at all, is to be a mirror of God’s own care for the Israelites when they were enslaved. The activities of the community are not undertaken on general principles; they arise out of the lively remembrance of God’s just and merciful initiatives with them (“A wandering Aramean was my father” — Deut. 26:5).

Because justice is such a central part of God’s nature, he has declared enmity against every form of injustice. His wrath will come upon those who have exploited the poor and weak; he will not permit his purpose to be subverted.—Fleming Rutledge, The Crucifixion, 110

Your actions are speaking so loud that I…

What we are coming more and more to realize, however, is that one of the reasons why the world is not responding more to our challenge to justice is that our actions for justice themselves often mimic the very violence, injustice, hardness, and egoism they are trying to challenge.

Our moral indignation very often leads to the replication of the behavior that aroused the indignation.—The Holy Longing, 179–80

How do you treat them? It matters!

The quality of our faith depends upon the character of justice in the land and the character of justice is to be measured by how we treat three groups—widows, orphans, and foreigners (those with the least status in society). Thus, for the Jewish prophets, our standing with God depends upon where we stand with the poor and no private faith and piety, be they ever so pure and sincere, can soften that edict.—The Holy Longing, 175

Rolling coal and restorative justice

On Bicycling, a look at the “rolling coal” case in Texas three years later: https://www.bicycling.com/news/a60747401/waller-texas-coal-rolling-cyclist-crash/

Basically, drivers can do whatever they want and it’s too bad for the pedestrian or cyclist. What a world!

I pulled off the road in 2020 after over twenty years of riding anywhere from 2000–4000 miles/year. We’ve modified where we walk (even in little Red Wing) because of the recklessness and inattentiveness of drivers. It seems like every week more and more drivers run stop signs, sometimes not even looking to see if anyone is coming—especially pedestrians.

Earlier this year, a driver, going over 60 mph by his own admission and without brakes (he knew it, too), no insurance or driver's license, crashed into our neighbor’s house, severing the gas line and requiring the entire neighborhood to evacuate their houses for forty-five minutes.

Our city had a traffic planning meeting earlier this month and they have federal funds to make the roads safer. I’m not terribly hopeful, but we gave our input as pedestrians and residents…

But, more importantly, what would restorative justice look like in these two cases?

I'm not terribly certain, but I can recall a situation when our son, Ryan, was in high school. One day at school, he had a knife pulled on him in class. I don't doubt, knowing Ryan, that he made some wise crack at which the other boy took offense. While Ryan probably shouldn't have said what he said, that certainly doesn't justify pulling a knife!

The other boy had a history of trouble and a case worker. The case worker brought the boy over to our house and had him apologize to Ryan and us for his actions. Not sure how much of an effect that had on the boy, but it had an affect on us. It transformed the way we looked at the kid. He became human rather than an abstract "kid with a troubled background." In other words, he was no longer an "other." He was a person.

So, in the case of the neighbor, perhaps the driver should be required to help the workers who are repairing the foundation. Perhaps he should be required to apologize to our neighbor for the mess he made of her house. I know the neighbor is struggling with bitterness toward the boy. Maybe if he was required to to do that, he might become human to her? I don't know, but I would like to think it would.

In the Texas case, I would require the driver to meet with the six people, to hear the trials and troubles of their lives since getting hit. Maybe do some service work specifically for the victims—not some generic public service, but specifically for the victims. It would probably do both of them some good. They would become human to each other.

Further, I would require him to do public appearances, preferably with one of the disabled victims, warning those who want to "roll coal" about the dangers and the possible long-term ramifications.

Pipe dream? Maybe. But if we want to see a better world, we need to dream. And that dream needs to get beyond retributive justice and into restorative justice. That's the Christian way!

Just an
</idle musing>

The poor? Who cares...

It is no accident that laissez-faire democracy has rarely been kind to the poor.—The Holy Longing, 171

It's bigger than you

Social justice has to do with changing the way the world is organized so as to make a level playing field for everyone. In simple terms this means that social justice is about trying to organize the economic, political, and social structure of the world in such a way so that it values equally each individual and more properly values the environment. Accomplishing this will take more than private charity. Present injustices exist not so much because simple individuals are acting in bad faith or lacking in charity but because huge, impersonal systems (that seem beyond the control of the individuals acting within them) disprivilege some even as they unduly privilege others. This is what social justice language terms systemic injustice and systemic violence.—The Holy Longing, 170

It's the system!

Social justice, therefore, tries to look at the system (political, economic, social, cultural, religious, and mythical) within which we live so as to name and change those structural things that account for the fact that some of us are unduly penalized even as others of us are unduly privileged. Thus, social justice has to do with issues such as poverty, inequality, war, racism, sexism, abortion, and lack of concern for ecology because what lies at the root of each of these is not so much someone’s private sin or some individual’s private inadequacy but rather a huge, blind system that is inherently unfair.—The Holy Longing, 169

May it be so!

Meritocracy in the university setting

The Atlantic has an interesting article about the myth of meritocracy in the university setting. It got me to thinking. Read the article to understand my

<idle musing>

No doubt a mixed bag, at best. I’m not sure where I stand. Both my parents taught at a state university, but hardly an elite one; my dad regularly gives to his alma mater, a state school. I went to multiple undergraduate schools: University of Wisconsin-Stout, University of Wisconsin-Madison, Asbury College (now University), as well as graduate schools: Asbury Seminary, University of Kentucky, and University of Chicago. I regularly receive donation requests from about half of them. I’ve never given, feeling my cash goes further in supporting homeless shelters, etc., than in supporting the already upper-middle-class attendees of those schools.

But, I wonder if I believe in meritocracy? I think I do, to an extent. But, I also have no doubt that there is someone currently working a low-paying job who, with the options I had would be much better than I am at what I do. There was a study back in the 1980s (I forget now where I read it—it was years ago) where some college professors went into the inner city and ran a summer program for disadvantaged youth and uncovered multiple people with genius-level intelligence who would never get the opportunity to develop it because of cultural limitations. And the current admissions scandals don’t exactly encourage belief in meritocracy, do they?

I had read elsewhere about the just-world hypothesis. I see it, but NIMBY tendencies keep anything from happening to fix it. Common good seems to be a diminishing commodity : (

Just a Sunday morning
</idle musing>

But how?

For Christian engagement with the world, then, patriotically and otherwise, the key word is judiciousness, and the methods are ad hoc. The engagement is often messy, constantly concerned with particulars, and always ongoing. It is open to the neighbor (and even the enemy), whom Christ calls us to love. Accordingly, the church’s neighbor love “does not enter through abstract declarations of "loving everyone" but starts by singling out the neighbor that appears alien to me, the neighbor whom I love in the midst of her obvious differences. It is with this neighbor that a more general love can start. This kind of neighbor love is intrusive and subversive to neoliberal ways of relating and being, as an individual must encounter her neighbor on the neighbor’s own terms. To love this way is an affront to the exchange logic and value within neoliberalism because this kind of neighbor love makes no demand to reciprocate.— Naming Neoliberalism: Exposing the Spirit of Our Age, 137 (emphasis original)

Let those who have ears…

“Cursed is anyone who obstructs the legal rights of immigrants, orphans, or widows.” Deut 27:19 (CEB)

Let those who have ears to hear, hear (and in Hebrew, "hear" means more than just listen; it means to act on what you hear).