Saturday, January 15, 2011

Just Us

God's concern for the oppressed did not materialize at the moment the scales fell off my eyes in order to see it. Yet in many respects, I continue to fight this egocentric impulse.


http://thejusticeconference.com/

I'm a human being, riled by emotion and circumstance, quick to comprehend and slow to change. But it is with new understanding that I approach a gift I have handled somewhat haphazardly, and quite selfishly before.
The gift of my neighbor.


Is it strange though, that I hardly think of my neighbor as a gift?
Jesus centered the gravity of all the Old Testament law, those tireless remembrances for Israel, upon two commandments: love the Lord Your God with all your heart, mind, soul and strength, and love your neighbor as yourself.


The sincerity with which I ought to love my neighbor is to be elevated above all knowledge, accomplishment and personal gain. Love always wins. The apostle Paul depicted loveless action as the arbitrary clanging of pots and pans, a senseless act to a King who came to serve.


To my neighbor, God requires an expression of bleeding and sincere human love, however flawed I am in the attempt.


 In the Weight of Glory, C.S. Lewis renders the individual a creature of fantastic eternal significance. People are investments of immortality.


The load, or weight, or burden of my
neighbour’s glory should be laid daily on
my back, a load so heavy that only
humility can carry it, and the backs of the
proud will be broken.

There are no ordinary people. You have
never talked to a mere mortal. Nations,
cultures, arts, civilization—these are
mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of
a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke
with, work with, marry, snub, and
exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting
splendours.

Next to the Blessed Sacrament
itself, your neighbour is the holiest object
presented to your senses. If he is your
Christian neighbour he is holy in almost
the same way, for in him also Christ vere
latitat—the glorifier and the glorified
 Glory Himself, is truly hidden


What a horrific tragedy, then, injustice appears. A blasphemous act by those who forsake the glory of God, hidden in the very fabric of each person. As we all know, injustice is not a self-correcting problem. It is a problem that when ignored, manifests in carnage and terror.


The most shocking part about the Rwandan genocide of 1994 was not the capacity of the average person to perpetrate wholesale slaughter. It was an international community excusing itself from it's neighbors. Excusing itself from acting on behalf of every innocent man, woman and child subjected to a sword wielded in fearful hysteria.


It's strange though, how the problem of neglect begins in my own heart. The echoes of Cain abide in my soul and I too ask, "Am I my brother's keeper?"  How I can carry the weight of my brother's glory while finding difficulty in stooping to care from my lofty comforts, from my rights in a developed world that serve my every conceivable whim of entitlement . I must ask and receive compassion from its truest source, the God of justice and mercy. I must politely, defer entitlement for more pressing concerns: a world writhing with the pleadings of the mercilessly oppressed.


Please understand that what I share is more than empty pathos. It is the movement from just me, to just us.


My calling stands in the moment of recognition, that I have seen my neighbor. When I do not see my neighbor, I will not love him. I submit that my knowledge acquired, my possessions upon the altar of sacrifice, all profit me nothing without love for my neighbor.


The words of Isaiah 58, inspired by a God who has served his people perfectly in the life of Jesus, baptized my conscience with this searing reality:


Is this not the fast that I have chosen:
To loose the bonds of wickedness,
To undo the heavy burdens,
To let the oppressed go free,
And that you break every yoke?

7 Is it not to share your bread with the hungry,
And that you bring to your house the poor who are cast out;
When you see the naked, that you cover him,
And not hide yourself from your own flesh?
I am commissioned to action in the fight against injustice, but without love, all slips forgotten into the void. Let my life and love be as the sweet perfume Mary spilled before the feet  Jesus, rising to exalt Him who spared not the highest personal cost.

No comments:

Post a Comment