PURSUING JUSTICE AND LIVING
JUSTLY: A WESLEYAN PERSPECTIVE
Numerous scholars
have explored Wesleyan contributions to social reform and justice concerns,
noting the complex history and multiple trajectories (cf., e.g., D. Dayton, R.
Heitzenrater, T. Jennings, R. Maddox, M. Marquardt, M. Meeks, T. Smith, and R.
Stone). John Wesley himself was remarkable for his commitments and practical
efforts to improve conditions for poor people, slaves, and prisoners.
Especially if definitions of justice center on attending to basic human needs,
equal regard, and helping people become full participants in community,
Wesley’s contributions were significant.
In Sources of the Self, the philosopher, C.
Taylor, observed: “Moral sources empower. To come closer to them, to have a
clearer view of them, to come to grasp what they involve is for those who
recognize them to be moved to love and respect them, and through this
love/respect to be better enabled to live up to them” ([Harvard University
Press, 1989] 96). In my teaching and research, Wesley’s writings and legacy,
along with portions of the subsequent Wesleyan tradition, have become a
powerful moral resource. They have significantly affected my understandings and
practice of social responsibility and efforts at justice. Several features of
Wesley’s approach to social concerns are particularly helpful to contemporary
Christian reflection on our efforts at justice.
A Willingness to See and Name Injustice and
Evil at Multiple Levels
In reading Wesley’s
sermons, treatises, and journal entries about the desperate needs of
impoverished persons, it is surprising how often he wrote that he had seen
their situation “with his own eyes.” In contrast to the individuals around him
who denied, understated, or deliberately overlooked the misery of a substantial
part of the population, Wesley was willing to see it, take it seriously, and
bring it to the attention of others. Furthermore, he frequently attempted to
identify causal factors, asking inconvenient and awkward questions about why some
people were starving or why the slave trade was flourishing. Never one to mince
words, he was then willing to call to account anyone and everyone that he
believed had a hand in perpetuating the injustice or misery.
Though rudimentary,
Wesley’s efforts at social and economic analysis are striking (cf. Thoughts on the Present Scarcity of
Provisions). He never assumed, however, that analysis was enough. Abstract
discussions about the causes of poverty were important, but action was required
even if it did not solve the entire problem. In response to widespread
destitution, Wesley mapped out substantive and sweeping recommendations; he
called for changes to tax policy, prohibition of distilling, and ending of the
monopolization of farms. At the same time, he also suggested immediate changes
at the personal and local level that would help to alleviate some of the
distress.
Wesley described
the situation he saw around him—a deadly combination of spiritual apathy,
social complacency, greed, oppression, and alienation—as “complicated evil” or
“complicated misery.” He called the spiritual and social heartlessness that
allowed neighbors to go hungry while others had resources “complicated
wickedness.” The use of “complicated” for Wesley was a way of getting at the
complex interrelation of spiritual and social death, and at the connections
between personal and structural evil (cf. C. Pohl, “Practicing Hospitality in
the Face of ‘Complicated Wickedness’,” Wesleyan
Theological Journal 42 [2007] 11-15). For Wesley, social analysis and broad
prophetic denunciations of injustice were accompanied by very particular
attention to how individual lifestyles contributed to the problem. He
challenged his people to open their eyes to the consequences of their own
complacency. By being careless or self-indulgent with their resources, they
were missing the opportunity to help others while they were also putting their
own spiritual wellbeing at risk.
Building Friendships and Bridging Social
Divisions
In his sermon, “On
Visiting the Sick,” Wesley observed, “One great reason why the rich, in
general, have so little sympathy for the poor is because they so seldom visit
them. Hence it is that…one part of the world does not know what the other
suffers. Many of them do not know, because they do not care to know: they keep
out of the way of knowing it; and then plead their voluntary ignorance as an
excuse for their hardness of heart” (The
Works of John Wesley, 3rd ed. [1872] Sage Digital Library (hereafter JWW) Vol. 7, Sermon XCVIII, 141).
His frequent advice
to “visit the poor” may sound to our ears rather paternalistic, but Wesley
understood better than most people that significant social and personal change
occurs at the level of interpersonal relationships. Visiting, small groups, and
“holy” conversation all contributed to a notable bridging of social
distinctions in the early Methodist communities. The practice of visiting also
allowed Wesley and other Methodists to gain a clear picture of pressing needs,
and they were thus better equipped to respond with innovative programs and
small-scale institutions that could be helpful.
Relationships of
mutual respect and accountability with persons in need are not a “nice extra”
if we have the time, they are at the heart of any efforts at justice, advocacy,
or reform. G. Gutierrez offers a similar insight when he discusses various
dimensions of liberation. In addition to transformation at the structural level
and at the level of individual human sin, he describes a dimension that is
connected to friendship, gestures, and solidarity (A Theology of Liberation,
rev. ed. [Orbis, 1988] xxxviii). Without real friendship with those in
difficult circumstances, advocacy and advocates are strangely detached from the
very persons they intend to help. Such detachment reinforces social difference,
tendencies toward paternalism, and the destructive notion that all of the
resources and wisdom flow in a single direction.
Pursuing Justice Begins with Personal
Lifestyle Choices
Wesley located
himself squarely within the teachings of the ancient Christian tradition when
he insisted that any resources we have beyond necessity or possibly convenience
belong to the poor. For Wesley, the difficult problem of destitution in the
midst of plenty could be solved readily—by a voluntary redistribution of
resources. If Christians would be content to live simply, they would have ample
resources to share. Holding on to more than was needed or used literally stole
life from others. Wesley wrote that many brothers and sisters, the “beloved of
God, have not food to eat; they have not raiment to put on…. And why are they
thus distressed? Because you
impiously, unjustly, and cruelly detain from them what your Master and theirs
lodges in your hands on purpose to
supply their wants” (JWW, Vol. 7, Sermon CXVI: Causes of the Inefficacy of Christianity,
320).
This teaching has
rarely been warmly received or readily embraced, but the personal choices we
make about resources and money are a powerful, if troublesome, indicator of how
we understand normative social and economic relations. Wesley was willing to
point out the uncomfortable connections between indulgent lifestyles and the
ongoing misery of others. We can see ourselves as part of a web of
relationships and resources in which we have responsibilities beyond ourselves
and our immediate families or we can view ourselves as self-made agents who can
afford to spend our money in any way we choose. A willingness to live as
faithful stewards of the resources to which we have access opens up a very
different way to understand both charity and justice. Reorienting our thinking
from viewing ourselves as “owners” to understanding ourselves as “conduits”
does not necessarily tell us how
resources should be distributed, but it does demand that we see resource
allocation—even at the personal level—as an issue of justice.
Gifting Grace in Efforts at Justice
When Wesley argued
that works of mercy are a “real means of grace,” he was recovering another
important insight from the ancient tradition that infuses charitable and
justice-oriented activities with a particular and life-giving spirituality (cf.
On Visiting the Sick, 139). Social
ministry, Wesley had found, was not only helpful to the recipients; those who
engaged in it experienced growth in grace and holiness, along with increased
sensitivity to the needs and insights of those around them.
Often our efforts
at justice and social ministry are driven by a sense of duty or obligation, but
when they are viewed as a grace-filled way of life that gives life to all
involved, they are more likely to be fruitful, respectful, sustainable, and
joy-filled. It is easy to make little forays into areas of need and to offer
scathing denunciations of injustice if they are not attached to sacrificial
personal choices. But to live justly as we pursue justice depends on
grace—grace to stay with the challenging tasks, grace that allows for mutual
transformation.
We are often
tempted to make artificial divisions between justice and charity, or piety and
social reform. While clearly distinguishable from one another, these practices
are not at odds, and when held together, they represent some of the fullness of
God’s purposes for a people who will tackle current issues of justice with
grace, discernment, and holy passion.
By Christine D. Pohl, Professor of Social
Ethics, Asbury Theological Seminary.