Tuesday, October 8, 2019

Oct 8 2019 Luke 16: 19-31 – Commemoration of William Bliss and Richard Ely

At his gate lay a poor man named Lazarus, covered with sores, who longed to satisfy his hunger with what fell from the rich man’s table; even the dogs would come and lick his sores.

William Dwight Porter Bliss and Richard Theodore Ely were two gentlemen who lived in the late 1800’s, and both committed to economic justice. Bliss professed that all Christians were responsible for the economic justice of all, because it was “rooted and grounded in Christ, the liberator”. Richard Theodore Ely was an economist and professor who argued that the Gospel was more about society, than it was about the individual, and he called on the Episcopal Church to work towards the reform of capitalism for the sake of the workers.

Economic Justice is a term that I’d thought was relatively new. I’d say it’s been the past decade since I’ve become aware of it as a concept, or a phrase. But here are these two men from over a century ago, working to address economic injustice. Neither the problem, nor the attempt to address it are new.

The reading appointed for this morning to accompany the two economic justice fighters is a story from Luke. The rich man is dressed in fine clothes and eating sumptuously. At his gate, is a poor man who’d be happy just to get the crumbs that fell from his table. Both men die, and the poor man is carried away to be with Abraham, which I’m presuming to be what we call heaven, although it’s not called that. The rich man goes to Hades, where he’s tormented with flames. He begs Abraham to allow the poor man to come down and give him a little water. Abraham explains that while they were alive, the rich man received his good things, and the poor man got nothing, and the rich man didn’t help at all. Now, he’s comforted, and you are not.

Living in a community with poor people sitting at my proverbial gate, this is a hard reading. I am convicted every time I walk past those begging on the street, at least twice a day, going to and coming from my bike garage. Portland is definitely above the average number of homeless, due in part to reputation and largely to the mild winters. Helping everyone I encounter would be challenging. But I try always to make human contact, look them in the eye, ask their name, make them feel seen, rather than invisible. Maybe I’m just defending my own behavior, but I don’t think this Gospel reading is condemning people who try on an individual level. 

Reading this Gospel and assuming it’s about the individual, I think bar is set differently. Are we, as individuals, doing something? Are we caring for those who have less, in some manner? Are we caring for those who have less in equal measure to how we have more? I’m hopeful that effort and intention counts, when I meet my maker, rather than absolutes.

But more important, I can read this Gospel passage from a collective societal standpoint. As Ely argued, the Gospel is about society, more than the individual. Are we as Christians in a capitalist society affecting and leading this society to take care of the poor at our gate? Are we partaking in a system that makes the rich richer, without regard to the rest? Are we blithely walking through our days and our elections, effectively creating poor men at our gate, covered with sores, and we let them get so marginalized that even the dogs lick their sores?

As a Christian, I am called to be engaged in my society to correct the economic injustices around me. I’m not sure exactly what that role is, but I’m certain there is one. I’m reminded of the advice I received when continued my education from getting a social work degree, to getting a public administration degree. A mentor said she’d started in social work, trying to help individuals. Then she’d realized that regardless of how hard she worked, the individuals would be returned to the same communities, with the same community problems. She moved towards community advocacy and organizing. After some time working with communities, she realized that regardless of how hard she worked, the communities were still constrained by the same policies and practices. She moved towards public policy. I’m not suggesting that there’s any problem with helping at any of these levels – the individual, community, society. All are needed and critical. And dealing with things at the systemic level has always rung true for me. 

This morning, I’m thinking about how the Gospel can and does speak to our obligations to individuals, communities and societies, all at the same time. I’m surprised that I haven’t made the connection between the Gospel and policy as clearly as I have this morning. Thank you, Bliss and Ely.

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