Through the Work of Our Hands and the Meditation of Our Hearts: Defining Spirituality for Contemporary Justice Seekers

by Dr. Elizabeth Hinson-Hasty

And what does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, and to love kindness, and to walk humbly with your God? (Micah 6:8)

I was recently engaged in conversation with a friend, a professor whom I deeply admire and respect. She helped to form my thought and awakened within me an abiding commitment to the pursuit of social justice. We were discussing my new teaching position at Bellarmine University in Louisville, Kentucky and my participation in the Master of Arts in Spirituality program there. During our conversation, my mentor expressed her concern about the emergence and popularity of programs in spirituality and described to me what she referred to as her "allergic reaction" to them. She lamented the fact that I had not acquired the same allergy. It was not the first time that I had encountered resistance from a mentor or colleague about making a connection between social justice and Christian spirituality and practice.

Howard Rice, Faculty Emeritus at San Francisco Theological Seminary, notes "a particularly embedded resistance to [conversations concerning] spirituality among those churches within the denominational tradition called Reformed."1 Rice attributes this resistance to several factors, including a suspicion of the role of experience in the life of individual Christians, a lack of knowledge about Reformed spiritual traditions, and the historic commitment of Reformed churches' to engage in social activism. "No one can be part of a church within this tradition for very long without meeting the suspicion that seem [sic] to be aroused by the subject of spirituality."2 Rice says further that "(b)ecause Reformed Protestants do not recognize and are not taught that there is a spiritual tradition within their own heritage, they have frequently had no basis to integrate their own experience into their faith or church life. They have been hesitant even to speak about their religious experiences for fear of being ridiculed or rejected. They may have dropped out of the organized church completely to become a part of the 'believing without belonging' subculture."3

I share others' suspicions of spiritual traditions and practices that seek to isolate and disengage one from the world's concerns. My scholarly interests lie in the area of theological ethics, and, I must admit, when I was first introduced to conversations about spirituality I had some reservations. The word "spirituality" seemed off-putting to me; it was weighted down with the baggage of easy self-help remedies and superficial devotional guides. I feared that conversations regarding Christian spirituality would too heavily emphasize individual devotional practices and fail to take seriously the tragedies of human existence and the oppressive attitudes and practices so embedded in the social systems of our world. However, I have learned about the importance of deepening one's understanding of Christian practice and spirituality through conversations with congregants, students, and other colleagues.

Popular Ways to Define Spirituality

Spirituality is a word with which people in the pews can identify; it is also a word that most have difficulty defining. From 2001-2004, I taught at St. Andrews Presbyterian College in Laurinburg, North Carolina. While teaching there I also did a fair amount of preaching and was an active member of the Presbytery of Coastal Carolina. I have heard the word spirituality used in differing ways by members of local congregations or students whom I have taught.

A Presbyterian elder whom I met described her spirituality in relation to frequent retreat experiences. Retreats enabled her to take some time to escape from the busyness of her daily routine. Taking time away is a good practice; one that I would like to encourage. Retreats give us time and space to recognize that we live in the midst of eternity's dance; not for ourselves, or for our work, but in a universe far greater than the human imagination can grasp or control. In my mind, taking time for retreat, bears a prophetic dimension and should reorient our way of thinking about reality. However, the elder that I described delighted in the spiritual high she felt on these occasions, but resisted any substantive conversation about problems facing our world. "I get enough of that on TV and in the newspaper," she said. Retreats, for her, were a means of escape rather than a way to reorient her understanding of reality.

Several of my students define spirituality in another way. They often describe themselves as "spiritual," but not religious people. In this case, the word spirituality expresses a longing shared by those who are somewhat disgruntled with organized religion, yet continue to believe that there is something beyond the self that is worthy of their attention and worship. Their practices are highly privatized. One student argued in a paper for an introductory theology class, "I'm not religious. I'm spiritual. No one else has the right to tell me what I should or should not believe. It has to do with what I think and what practices that I think are right for me."

I have some reservations about these two perspectives on spirituality. Neither of them adequately reflects the connectional nature of our Reformed tradition or engages its historic commitment to the pursuit of justice. I also think that such individualistic interpretations of spirituality manifest themselves in protection of status quo and foster disregard for the oppressed. The focus remains too much on the self and the advancement of one's own interests and desires rather than on the relationship of the self to a larger community. Moreover, congregants and students all too often seek spiritual guidance in more popular writings that lack the kind of depth necessary to make a connection between spirituality, community, and social justice; the most popular writings strongly emphasize otherworldliness, and encourage individualism. Take a moment to check out the Christian bestseller list. One of the most popular titles is The Purpose-Driven Life. The Purpose-Driven Life is promoted as a "blueprint for Christians" who want to understand God's individual plan for their lives. This book is selling like hotcakes in congregations across denominations. Blueprints are appealing but can any blueprint really help one navigate the unforeseen events of one's life, events such as the loss of a job, a missed child support payment, or even the death of a spouse?

A PBS special entitled The Jesus Factor further illustrates my point. The documentary showed how popular spirituality made its way into the public forum during the last presidential election. Reporters discussed the way that George W. Bush made connections between his own personal piety and his public office. Jim Wallis, Editor-in-Chief of Sojourners Magazine, described Bush's pre-September 11 expression of his religious faith as a "self-help Methodist." Wallis was quoted as saying that early on in Bush's presidency he hoped for a "deepening of [Bush's] theology, where he'd understand that poverty is not just rooted in individual choices, but in social policies, practices, and behaviors."4

Popular spirituality threatens to guide us down culture's path of least resistance where social systems that marginalize and oppress are left unchallenged. Sharp distinctions are made between good and evil, church and world, and individual and communal needs. However, there is an alternative way of understanding Christian spirituality and practice. Christian spirituality and practice can be understood in a way that welcomes shared life and fosters patterns that are morally coherent and resistant to the individualism that so threatens community life in Reformed congregations and in contemporary American culture.

An Alternative Definition of Spirituality

The word spirituality can also be used to make the connection between one's participation in justice-oriented ministries and the experience of God one recognizes in that work. In this case, spirituality is not a conversation that is disconnected from social action. Rather, it is the language used to point to the ways that people enact their faith in a world that seldom reflects God's dream of justice, equality, peace, and love for the whole creation.

Presbyterian Disaster Assistance posted a bulletin insert on the PC(USA) Web site after the December 26, 2004 tsunami which showed a picture of a man squatting on the shore amid the debris left after the water subsided. The header of the insert read: "As Our Prayers Reach Out to Join His, So May Our Hands." This header captures well how natural it is for us, as Christians and Presbyterians, to respond after such a disaster with a sense of urgency, immediacy, and without concern for self-interest. In this situation, we all clearly and easily recognize our shared humanity, common need for comfort, and basic necessities. We desire to be part of bringing healing to such devastation and easily connect our prayers with the work of our hands.

Most Presbyterians are unaware of a larger history and tradition that integrates justice seeking behavior with spirituality and resonates with the prophetic voices of the Bible. For example, at the turn of the twentieth century a group of enlightened Protestants banded together to address problems created by industrialism. They advocated for the needs of the working class and intentionally sought opportunities to live and work in impoverished areas, to educate tenement dwellers, and to transform their own middle class perceptions of the world. Many Christians outside the social gospel movement critiqued social gospelers for being too concerned about the world's affairs. But Walter Rauschenbusch, the most widely recognized exponent of the social gospel movement, was teased by a fellow social activist and friend, Vida Scudder, for being a social mystic. While Rauschenbusch's theology in several ways was a product of his own time, consider the meaning of this great prayer and it's relevance for today.

O God, we thank thee for this universe, our great home .... Grant us, we pray thee, a heart wide open to all this joy and beauty, and save our souls from being so steeped in care or so darkened by passion that we pass heedless and unseeing when even the thornbush by the wayside is aflame with the glory of God.

Enlarge within us the sense of fellowship with all living things, our little brothers [and sisters], to whom thou hast given this earth as their home in common with use. We remember with shame that in the past we have exercised the high dominion of [human beings] with ruthless cruelty, so that the voice of the Earth, which should have gone up to thee in song, has been a groan of travail ....

When our use of this world is over and we make room for others, may we not leave anything ravished and spoiled by our ignorance, but may we hand on our common heritage fairer and sweeter through our use of it, undiminished in fertility and joy, that so our bodies may return in peace to the great mother who nourished them, and our spirits may round the circle of a perfect life in thee.5

This prayer moves from openness to God's presence in the midst of the beauty of creation toward a greater consciousness of the community for which God longed.

Recently, I have noticed in academic circles a more intentional association of spirituality with justice concerns. Roger Gottlieb describes how he seeks a peaceful heart through his anger over "humanity's collective crimes" and the "specter of ecocide" in A Spirituality of Resistance: Finding a Peaceful Heart and Protecting the Earth. Gottlieb writes,

"I am writing about the struggle to find a spiritual heart in a dark time: a path whose authentic essence is the honest recognition of-and opposition to-the brutal and sacrilegious desecration of the earth and all who dwell upon it. It is about the attempt to bring into being a personal identity that takes past and present forms of social evil seriously and knows that it is living on an earth scarred by unjustified and irrevocable loss. As other spiritual paths may center on love of God or systematic prayer, on meditation or revelation, this one is bound by responsibility to protect the earth. In this path, spirituality and resistance to the destruction of life-human and nonhuman alike-are inextricably connected. It is * a spirituality of resistance." 6

Theologian and Presbyterian minister Robert McAfee Brown explains well the linkages between spirituality and social justice in his book Spirituality and Liberation. For Brown, contemplation and prophetic action are two movements, not two opposing acts. Spirituality is a vital part of communities that feel disquieted by the state of the world in which we live and take risks to work toward changing it.

Brown aims to move beyond what he calls the "Great Fallacy," the all too common misconception that divides life into two neat areas, two spheres, and two compartments.7 Christians are duped into thinking that our lives are divided into two worlds in which the church and the world are clearly separated, faith and practice are unrelated, and love and justice are distinct realities. These distinctions are frequently articulated in our liturgies and are clearly evident in the history of Christian communities.

Brown draws upon Juan Luis Segundo as he underscores the starting point for a liberating spirituality. Where we need to begin is with the recognition that the "world should not be the way it is*We see too much misery, too much exploitation, too many children with bloated stomachs, too many wretched slums, too many parents unable to provide for their children, too many poor whose lives and deaths are determined by too few rich."8 We need to move toward a new way of speaking that enables us to see liberation from exploitation and spirituality as "two ways of speaking about the same thing."9 Spirituality, then, is about "the deeds that proclaim spirituality/liberation, liberation/spirituality, praxis, shalom*They are there as signs and pointers to us. This is the way to come, they are telling us. You can't just watch from the sidelines. You have to come onstage. You are part of a community now. You have to venture, to risk. You are needed."10

When defining spirituality in a way that connects liberation and spirituality, faith and practice, love and justice, practices that invite us to reflect on God's presence in our lives encourage us to come onstage. Sitting in the stillness and quiet of wooded retreats not only enables us to renew our energies, but also has the potential to reorient our way of thinking and the actions that follow. As we recognize our connection to a larger web of life, we can no longer accept injustice as a consequence of our existence or as a byproduct of the social systems from which we cannot escape. Similarly, as we work for justice with our hands, we should reflect on the importance of our activism to God as well as the community in which we live. These practices have the potential to increase our awareness of the limited scope of our own visions and invite us to contemplate God's broader vision for a world where justice, peace, and equality are not seen as innovations, but rather as the rhythm of our shared life.

O God, give us times of refreshment and peace in the course of this busy life. Grant that we may use our leisure to rebuild our bodies, refresh our memories of your call for justice, and enliven our imaginations so that we may see beyond our faulty intentions. Open us up to the greater vision conveyed to us by your prophets so that we may use the work of our hands and lift our voices in an effort to bring about your new heaven and new earth. Amen.

The Presbyterian Washington Office is the public policy information and advocacy office of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). Its task is to advance the social witness perspectives and policies of the General Assembly, and to recommend specific legislative and administrative remedies to Congress and the White House.

Reprint permission by the author and Hungryhearts.