justice – Southwest Conference Blog

What Do We Mean When We Say ‘Justice’?

The greatest joy I have found in helping lead our UCC@ASU ministry is the moment an individual recognizes that we’re there to jump in alongside them, lift them up, and fight for justice. For far too long, Evangelical institutions have dominated the scene at ASU, creating a narrative that demands conformity to strict theology and causes lasting harm. When I was still a member of an Evangelical institution and doing campus ministry, a word that rang in our ears and filled our mouths with distaste was ‘justice’.

This seven-letter word has caused Evangelicalism and white, heteronormative communities around America, to reflexively cringe. This is because seeking justice inherently challenges their positions of power. This is because seeking justice inherently rebukes whiteness, heteronormativity, and strict gender roles. Even in the UCC, a denomination founded on seeking justice, we still find bastions of white supremacy, heteronormativity, and transphobia. We still have much to learn about actually doing the work of justice.

The UCC has largely become inoculated to the word ‘justice’. Sure, it goes on our slogans and marketing campaigns, but from there it fizzles out like soda going flat. It retains some of its taste as sugary juice, and one might still recognize it, but the carbonation is completely gone. The fire, the passion, the zeal to be transformative is gone. Instead, it is flat. Inert. The UCC has a long and storied history of seeking justice on the front lines of national debates, but this obscures the fact that too often local UCC churches distill the message of justice into only putting up a slogan in the building or on the website and separate from the transformation that justice requires. It’s not enough to just do a food drive in your church. It’s not enough to go to the border and help struggling migrants avoid dehydration and starvation. It’s not enough to label your church as Open and Affirming. These things are wonderful, but they are not enough.

The heart of the problem is churches choosing complacency rather than the true, transformative work of Christ. Instead of changing our polity, liturgy, and curriculums we uphold whiteness, heteronormativity, and transphobia. We inject ourselves into public discourse on a few areas to make ourselves feel better when we’re as colonizing as every other invasive non-profit that exists for its own gratification.

Our ministerial call in the UCC is to embrace transformative justice as a catalyst for change. “God is still speaking,” isn’t just a cute denominational phrase, it’s a rallying cry to the spark of change found in the margins. If we yield to the discomfort and withdraw from change because we can’t deal with our own complicity, we reject the idea that God is still speaking. We reject the embrace of justice and trade it for institutional security.

Justice is our call, our urgent need. Transformative justice that embodies the Christ in both the personal and the systemic, both the local church and the universal one. Jesus died, but the Christ lives on in the church. Radical rejection of oppressive systems and powers and total love tempered by communal striving toward mutual servanthood aren’t just attributes of the Christ, but the call of the church. Jesus’ ministry wasn’t a campaign as a synagogue leader or a pharisee to bring more Samaritans and Romans into the fold, but to evolve spiritual praxis into something totally different, radically new.

Justice is an analogous term to the Christ, one that the law cannot aspire to because the law is too often trapped by the oppressive systems and powers to truly strive communally toward mutual servanthood with total love. Too often the church is wrapped up in the opposite side, bogging itself down in what it means to love and communally strive toward mutual servanthood so that its rejection of oppressive systems and powers is watered down to the personal or too weak to make systemic change.

The UCC has an amazing opportunity to embody the Christ through seeking justice, but that means doing the work. We have the chance to do something totally different and radically new, but rather than getting caught up in visions of a restored UCC population: do the work. When we say justice let us truly mean the burning, urgent passion to embody the Christ in all its transformative power.

A Glimpse of Justice

by Abigail Conley

There is a story in the Bible about a woman who goes to a judge many times, asking for justice. Each time, she is sent away. According to Luke, the judge did not fear God nor respect people. In the end, he gave her justice because he couldn’t get rid of her otherwise.

Preachers tend to skip over preaching this text. Like, “Ask and it shall be given,” this story can crossover into a place pastors like to avoid: annoy God enough and you’ll get what you want.

Not surprisingly, that take on this story is one of privilege. If you don’t know people who have been denied what was rightfully theirs, you tend to miss the point. If you see people as bad when they keep pushing instead of seeing their justified anger, you tend to miss the point. I’m not the most woke person ever; it took a while to see. It’s no surprise that Luke tells this tale, though. His Gospel is one of a world turned upside down, inside out, and every other way imaginable. In Luke’s telling of the Gospel, the unfavorable are by far the most favored by God.

I think of the persistent widow often these days. Almost two years ago, my church had a little extra money and a desire to do justice in our immediate community. We started down the road of offering small dollar, no interest loans as an alternative to title loans. In Arizona, payday loans are banned. Title loans quickly took their place.

Two years later, we’re almost there. Just past the two-year mark, we should be offering the first round of loans. We’re ironing out details. Right now, it looks like we’ll start at $500 and we need to figure out how we handle the minimal interest. Even if we charged the full amount, it’s 6% annual interest. Title loans are capped at 204% annual interest, typically advertised as 17% monthly.

The math is terrifying.¹ At 6%, in a year, the total interest on $500 is under $31. That’s without figuring in the regular payments. That number only gets lower with regular payments. Contrastingly, with title loans, fees vary widely by vendor, from minimal to several hundred dollars. Most people who take out one loan take out another immediately to repay what they can’t pay back. This cycle repeats for around 9 months—at least that’s the average. A $500 loan easily ends up costing the borrower over $1,000 on the low end of things.

The predatory lending industry, made up primarily of payday loans and title loans, is a strong market anywhere it is allowed. Some states choose to ban their presence entirely. Nationwide, around 75% of people who use this type of loan are repeat customers. They use the loans to keep up with monthly bills. As we enter into this venture, we know that we’re hoping to offer something else for the other people, the 25% of the customers who had an unexpected expense that they can’t cover.

Solutions for the remaining 75% aren’t yet within our reach. However, this venture could well take us down a road that leads to solutions for some of those people. Jesus knew, “The poor you will always have with you,” but keeping on kicking them surely isn’t the answer.

I could, indeed, talk about all the ins and outs of this program. We’re definitely not doing it on our own. A credit union has agreed to partner with us as well as a social service agency for client referral. Part of the solution has to be credit repair or establishing credit for people. The title loan industry proudly shares that they don’t report to credit bureaus; we know that good credit is key to everything from lower deposits on utilities to landing a job.

There are many interpretations for the parable of the persistent widow, but here is the one I settle on most often: those who have the power to do good are compelled to do good. Here’s hoping that we do good $500 at a time.

¹Over these two years, we’ve read research from a variety of sources. Three reports inform this article. I highly recommend each of them. They are: Auto Title Loans: Market practices and borrowers’ experiences from The Pew Charitable Trusts, March 2015; Single-Payment Vehicle Title Lending from the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau, May 2016; Wrong Way: Wrecked by Debt from the Consumer Federation of America and the Southwest Center for Economic Integrity, January 2016.

Hope in Solving Border Issues

by Ron Cammel; a freelance writer and journalist. These are his reflections after participating in the Southwest Conference/United Church of Christ Border Immersion and Convergence events with his partner, Designated Conference Minister Bill Lyons.

Last weekend I witnessed American citizens join with undocumented immigrants to demand humane treatment for migrants. I heard stories about migrants who tried to escape violence or extreme poverty and then were jailed in the U.S. and deported. I heard stories from tearful migrants who were trying to reunite with their fathers or husbands who were locked in detention centers unsure of their fate.

I haven’t paid enough attention to the issues of illegal migration, refuge, deportations and border security. Migration is probably the world’s largest humanitarian crisis right now. Arizona is a hot spot. Now that I have connected more faces and stories to what I casually followed in the news, I find myself questioning the conventional thinking about securing borders and controlling immigrant numbers.

Also affecting my thinking is a place: Nogales, Arizona, where a formidable wall divides the city from another part of the same community in Nogales, Sonora, Mexico. A military-like presence of towers, huge lights and guards is nearly inescapable on the American side. It’s a lovely town in its own character-filled way, though not wealthy. The people seem friendly and cheerful. The tacos are awesome. The water, drinkable.

The day I visited, Mexican children stuck their smiling faces between the rusty steel beams of the wall, hoping for any reaction from those nearby. In the evening, young people sat on each side conversing. Traffic moved steadily through the one border crossing, a gateway between nations but a single road connecting an oddly divided community.

The wall continued forever in both directions through the desert, over the scrubby hills and down the grassy valleys.

I know some of the reasons for trying to “protect” the nation’s borders this way, but soon after I reached that wall I found myself praying for its destruction. It was like a subconscious reaction. The wall is so wrong, so anti-community, so anti-peace. I envisioned the city with a linear park, instead, along the border – a wavy pathway meandering both sides where children could run along and shout, “I’m in America! I’m in Mexico! I’m in America! I’m in Mexico!”

I envisioned the grey-green desert without its current blockade, where wildlife could move freely to maintain healthy ecosystems.

And I envisioned border residents moving more freely, as I assume they did before the wall went up. (I learned of ranchers unable to hunt now and homes stuck south of the wall but in the U.S.!)

Despite the wall’s imposition, it doesn’t work well. Yes, it does keep many people out. Illegal crossings are way down after many controls – sensors, more guards, more walls, etc. – were added in the past 10 years. But many people still make it to America. Drugs are transported. Human trafficking continues.

The wall fails to promote any American value, such as freedom, human dignity, equality, inalienable rights. We’ve spent $132 billion on securing the Mexican border the past decade to promote a rigid idea of security and have not addressed the reasons people are willing to leave their families and homes, risk arrest, risk dehydration and heat exhaustion and live in practical hiding in a foreign country. The security efforts have led to about 200 deaths per year in the desert. Others live in fear and are unable to reach their potential as a person because of the deportation risk.

Congress even waived 37 laws so contractors could extend the wall without pesky hindrances such as protecting water, respecting land rights and saving archaeological sites.

Could some of that $132 billion have been better spent to solve the root problems? Peace-making and true problem-solving require creative minds.

I learned last weekend about the sanctuary movement. Similar to the Underground Railroad from slavery days, it helps desperate people find work and shelter. Sometimes it helps them get to Canada, where they can live more freely. Churches, colleges and even entire cities take part. There is nothing illegal about these activities. We have come a long way from the Fugitive Slave Act.

I learned of other creative efforts to help our neighbors in need, or “the least of these.” These efforts contrast with actions like sending undocumented immigrants caught in domestic disputes to a land they barely know anymore, and taking young men caught in drug offenses to the border and ordering them to cross over where drug workers will seize upon their vulnerability. I learned of one deported man who didn’t even speak Spanish – his parents had failed to do the paperwork when he was little, and now a crime that would land a fine for most resulted in banishment from his homeland.

“Pax” and “esperanza,” someone painted on a wooden cross that activists tied to the wall. Peace and hope. There is much hope for change. Even when we can’t seem to get away from the word “illegals,” as if a human being can be reduced in such a way, a movement is stirring to preserve dignity and to challenge the powers that be to act more humanely and morally responsible.

The Micah Mandate

by Talitha Arnold

What does God really want from us? 3000 years ago, the Israelites wanted to know. The Assyrians had overrun their country. The people were wracked by war and oppression. To make sense of the hardship and suffering, they asked what we humans often ask in such times–what are we supposed to do? What does God want from us?

Did God want animal sacrifice–new born calves or thousands of rams? Would sacrificing their first-born children do the trick? What did God really want?

The (minor) prophet Micah answered his people with words that echo through the ages:

God has told you, O mortal, what is good;
and what does the Lord require of you
but to do justice, and to love mercy,
and to walk humbly with your God?

President Theodore Roosevelt called it “The Micah Mandate.” “Do justice, love mercy, walk humbly with God.” In this 8th c. prophet’s words, Roosevelt heard God’s call in his life and the life of this nation. For Roosevelt, the individual soul and the country heart both needed a sense of justice that is tempered by mercy and mercy that is strengthened by a commitment to justice. Moreover, Roosevelt knew that neither the individual nor the country is the center of the universe nor the seat of all wisdom. God is.

Like the other Hebrew Prophets, Micah didn’t go into great detail as to how to live out the commitment to justice and mercy. That is for each generation, each nation, each individual to work out. Instead, as with Amos’ call to “let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream,” Micah’s words are a standard by which to measure our lives and the life of our church and our nation.

The Prophet’s words are echoed in those of Janusz Korczak, a Jewish educator and pediatrician in 1930’s Poland. Known for his humane approach to teaching, Korczak had his own radio show (before the Nazi occupation of Poland) in which he advocated for the rights of children. He also directed an orphanage for both Jewish and Gentile children. When the Nazis came to power, Korczak was offered sanctuary but continually refused it, choosing instead to stay with the orphans in his care. In 1942, Korczak and 190+ children were deported to Treblinka where all were put to death.

In one of his radio presentations, Korczak offered an understanding similar to that of the Prophet Micah’s, 3000 years before. “You lived,” Korczak affirmed,

. . . . how many fields did you plow,
How many loaves of bread did you bake,
How much seed did you sow,
How many trees did you plant,
How many bricks did you lay?
How many buttons did you sew,
How many patches, how many seams did you make,
To whom did you give your warmth,
Who would have stumbled but for your support,
Who did you show the way without demanding gratitude or prize,
What was your offering,
Whom did you serve?

What does God really want from us? Korczak’s answer was to give warmth, offer support, live a life of service–even to the end. For the 8th century Prophet Micah, it was to “do justice, love mercy, walk humbly with God.” Micah’s Mandate shaped Janusz Korczak’s life, even as his world thundered with hatred and fear. Amidst the thunder of our time and our world, we need to hear Micah’s Mandate, too.

Unity Within Diversity

Unity Within Diversity ¹

by Amos Smith

Some authors, such as our very own John Dorhauer, have written about the colossal brush strokes of Church 1.0, 2.0, and 3.0.² These are the Pre-reformation Church, The Post-reformation Church, and today’s Emergent Church.

Church 1.0 is the pre-reformation church with its primary authority vested in the hierarchy of the priesthood. Church 2.0 is the post-reformation church, with its rallying cry: “Solo Scriptura.” This was a radical shift of authority from clerical to scriptural! Church 2.0 believed that with the help of the Holy Spirit any baptized Christian had the authority to read and interpret scripture, not just institutional church authorities (1.0 and 2.0 Churches are alive and well today). Church 3.0 is what author Cameron Trimble and others say is emerging now. In this emerging Church scripture is not the end all, be all, as it is for Church 2.0. So, what will define Church 3.0?

I think the most authentic strains of Church 3.0 will rally around two words: Jesus and Justice. If I were persuaded to summarize the Hebrew Scriptures with one word I would say “Justice.” If I were swayed to summarize the New Testament with one word I would say “Jesus.” The words of the Hebrew Scriptures, above all else, point to Justice. The words of the New Testament, above all else, point to Jesus. These are the root words of Judeo-Christian Tradition. If the church loses these two words it has ceased to be the church and should call itself something else, perhaps Unitarian, perhaps Bahai.³

Some progressive churches know how to spell justice! They are missional churches through and through. And this is wonderful. This is the dream of church realized! Yet, many of these churches have sidelined Jesus or dispensed with Jesus all together. A prime example is a church I visited in Berkeley where I was told, “We don’t use the J word here. Too many people have been burned by it.” “Christ” is the root of the word “Christian.” So, this statement baffles me.

The other extreme are churches who know how to spell Jesus with precision and vigor. Yet, they have not caught on to justice. These churches are about a mere belief system. Yet, Christianity is not primarily a belief system! It is a life to be lived, an idea to be worked out, a task to be done! In other words, Christianity is about following Jesus onto the path of justice! These churches also tend to be insular and dying. A vital church cannot be about an exclusive theology of Jesus. For one thing, this is not true to the Gospel witness. For another, this prevents full-on engagement in justice missions outside church walls, which is the point of church from the beginning.

My book, Healing the Divide, addresses churches who emphasize Jesus to the exclusion of justice and vice versa. It outlines a theology of Jesus that is broad enough for Church 3.0 and for our postmodern world!

Just as the full faced portrait photo doesn’t contradict the profile photo, so to Jesus and Justice don’t contradict! Far from it! They complement one another!

People ask me, “What’s the essence to which the scriptures point?” People ask me, “What do you think the emergent church is all about?” When they do, I don’t hesitate. It’s about Jesus and Justice! Jesus is synonymous with spiritual healing, wholeness, and inclusive love! And justice is synonymous with communal fire in the belly, aliveness, and mission!

The prophetic legacy leading up to Jesus is the finger pointing to the moon and justice is the moon. We need both!

Jesus is the Church’s inclusive compassionate heart, which jumps off the pages of the Gospels. And justice is the church’s business. Both are essential for historical integrity and vitality!

Justice and Jesus are the two wings of the butterfly of emergent Christianity!

In Church 3.0 there will be numerous forms of justice work: social justice, economic justice, death penalty abolishment, racial justice, nonviolence witness, gender justice, LGBT justice, mental illness awareness, ecological justice, nuclear disarmament, immigrant justice, homeless justice, microloan justice, Palestinian justice, food justice, prison reform, et cetera.

Depending on the community, Church 3.0 will also emphasize numerous Jesuses. There will be the Roman Catholic Jesus (culled from Thomas Aquinas and Thomas Merton), the Eastern Orthodox Jesus (filtered for the West through Tolstoy and Dostoevsky), the Nonviolent Jesus (gleaned from The historic Peace Churches,⁴ Jesus’ Third Way, and French Philosopher, Renee Girard), the Jesus of the oppressed (from liberation theologians like James Cone and Gustavo Gutierrez) the liberal Protestant Jesus (from historical Jesus scholars like Marcus Borg and John Dominic Crossan), the neo-feminist Jesus (culled from Elizabeth Schussler Fiorenza and the multitude of feminist theologians since), and the Jesus of the mystics (The Jesus Paradox/Miaphysite in Greek) as interpreted by the Alexandrian Elders and the Oriental Orthodox Church. And the list goes on…

My particular calling is to Jesus as interpreted by the Alexandrian Mystics and to the healing arts of Contemplative Christianity. Yet, I celebrate that Christianity is a vast body with many members (1 Corinthians 12:12-27). I celebrate all the different angles on Jesus and Justice! May the members of the body, in all their diversity, invest in the essential vision: Jesus and Justice!

The seventeenth century theologian Rupertus Meldenius once wrote in a tract: “In essentials unity, in non-essentials diversity, in all things charity.”

The essential rallying cry of Church 3.0: “Solo Christos et Jus!”

1 This essay is inspired by a sermon that United Church of Christ Pastor, Evette Flunder, gave at the General Synod of the United Church of Christ when it convened in Minneapolis in 2005.

2 See Dorhauer, John. Beyond Resistance: The Institutional Church Meets the Postmodern World, pg.38-43.

3 I have been influenced by the work of Family Systems theorists, Murray Bowen, Edwin Friedman, Roberta Gilbert, and Peter Steinke, who consistently affirm healthy boundaries. A healthy cell has a membrane that differentiates it from other cells. So too, healthy relationships, communities, and religious traditions have healthy boundaries (flexible and at times porous, not rigid), which differentiate them from one another. The Dali Lama has often said that the differences between religions are as important as the similarities. Healthy interfaith dialogue respects both.

4 The historic Peace Churches are the Mennonite, Brethren, and Quaker (FGC).

Amos Smith is the pastor at Church of the Painted Hills in Tucson, and author of Healing The Divide: Recovering Christianity’s Mystic Roots.