A Justice Call for a Religious Rebirth

And how have I used rivers, how have I used wars
To escape writing of the worst thing of all—
Not the crimes of others, not even our own death,
But the failure to want our freedom passionately enough
So that blighted elms, sick rivers, massacres would seem
Mere emblems of the desecration of ourselves?
----Adrienne Rich

Faith is a powerful language that at once offers solace and challenges us to fundamentally change who we are. Rich in these lines does not speak in a religious voice, yet her yearning for a passionate desire for freedom is no less profound than the desire to be born again. The same desire for personal transformation is what draws many of us wishfully to churches, synagogues, mosques, and temples.

Faith speaks to the spiritual needs of the individual but it also draws the individual into the needs of the whole community. If we are ever going to learn to live differently we need to see how desire for personal transformation goes hand-in-hand with our social justice work, with our embrace of the neighbor. What is required is a deep and total transformation and it needs to happen by connecting our advocacy for social justice directly, passionately, and personally with our spiritual need to be reborn in the service of God—however we define God.

Images of personal rebirth capture the imagination and the yearning of the soul much more effectively than language stressing mere tolerance. Yet it is the language of tolerance that dominates our liberal congregations and much of our interfaith work. Toleration built on a model of accommodation is easy for us because it doesn’t ask us to change but only to bring others into our already comfortable, safe world. We might buy free trade coffee in our fellowship halls or put Save Darfur signs in front of our congregations but what have we risked?

On the other hand, Christian radical right speak has so hijacked our imagination about personal conversion that it is nearly impossible to think of religious transformation outside a narrow, repressive, life-destroying preoccupation with discrimination against lesbian, gay, bisexual, and transgender people, and those who are not Christian.

Yet when we look at a situation in which the richest 1% of adults in the world owns 40% of the planet’s wealth, when the effects of global warming are waging daily havoc on our environment, when the threat of terrorism is only matched by the shameful propaganda of fear based on those threats it becomes clear pretty quickly that tepid toleration isn’t enough.

As a people we need stories of personal transformation. Secular one’s are valuable but richest are the sacred texts, whether the Jewish Prophets, Siddhartha, Jesus, Mohammed, or others. It matters less in whose name we claim our spiritual rebirth but that we claim it as the foundation for a richer, deeper, more personal connection to our work for social justice.

We can see this fundamental transformation in communities all around us. It exists in congregations like the United Methodist Church in Baltimore Maryland whose members embraced Rev. Drew Phoenix as their pastor when he transitioned from female to male and has now covenanted to stay with him despite excessive media attention, a heavy financial burden, and the stigmatization of others in the larger community. When congregations like this one truly wrestle with LGBT equality their sense of who they are as a religious body changes.

We also see real transformation happen in interfaith movements like the New Sanctuary Movement where congregations consciously choose to support and sometimes house illegal immigrants at considerable risk their own security and the security of the congregation.

Our sacred texts don’t ask us to tolerate each other but to embrace one another. Jesus said “Love your neighbor as yourself” not try to get along with your neighbor. The Tibetan Buddhist teaching of tonglen, or exchanging oneself for others, works by consciously breaking down the difference between self and other. This is a radical freedom and it’s not easy.

The Israelites wandered in the wilderness for 40 years in order to trust in God, to love freedom enough that they could learn to purge themselves from their oppression in Egypt—oppression defined by an occupying power that imposed a physical and spiritual regime not their own. Those of us on the religious left are in the wilderness right now. We want change but we’re hoping it will come if we write a check or volunteer occasionally in a soup kitchen. Incremental engagement like this is important but real change will only come when we risk who we are--when our personal transformation drives our connection to others. We need religious fervor to carry us there.