Per my third commitment, I am committed to an ethic centered on love and justice.
Love
As I see it, love ascribes worth to others and acts to promote their well-being. I see justice as largely an informed, practical outworking of love on a broader societal scale.
I am committed to an ethic of love because such a norm fits with my own conscience, personality, and survival strategies. But such an ethic is not merely my own.
Love reflects the ethical norms of most societies and all world religions. For example, virtually all societies prohibit lying, stealing, murder, and the breaking of solemn commitments – at least within one’s own in-group. Conversely, they tend to promote traits like love, compassion, honesty, fidelity, generosity, courage, and self-sacrifice. There are dozens of versions of the Golden Rule from around the world and in every major religion.
Many religions also prioritize love in other significant ways. We see this, for example, in Jewish teachings on hesed, Confucian teachings on ren, Buddhist teachings on the “four immeasurables,” in universal moral obligations in Hinduism and Islam, and obviously in Christian teachings on agape (on which, see below). A number of otherwise different spiritual paths emphasize being transformed from a surface self that tends toward selfishness to becoming compassionately oriented toward others and devotionally united to the Ultimate.
Love fits empirically with our socially adapted nature as humans and with the kinds of societies which are most conducive to happiness and well-being. For example, there are natural, evolutionary reasons to be good toward others in the form of kin selection, reciprocal altruism, and reputation. There is evidence from game theory that (initially) benevolent tit-for-tat strategies of cooperation and reciprocity are a relatively robust and flexible way of engaging the world and ordering societies.
Part of the reason love plays such a central role in ethical norms from around the world is that human communities must promote pro-social norms and condemn antisocial ones to function well as tight-knit societies. People need to be able to generally trust each other, and when and where they can’t, they and society suffer for it.
I mean, we could be incredibly selfish and pursue a strategy of default suspicion of others. Everyone for themselves. But we can’t survive very long on our own, without aid from or mutual cooperation with others. Beyond mere survival, always having to be on guard and watching for others to stab you in the back takes a psychological toll. In general, communities that trust and take care of one another, that love each other, are safer and more pleasant places for us to live life and raise our children than ones characterized by violence, intra-mural tension, and mistrust. That’s within the in-group.
Constant conflict between different groups can also be dangerous and non-ideal. It can be hugely profitable if one society has the means to subdue or oppress another (or other types of people). But even this can be psychologically and morally draining. And there is always the possibility that the oppressed will revolt and seek vengeance. Where two conflicting groups are more equal in strength, constant conflict can lead to the trauma of unending, irresolvable violence.
There is a wealth of evidence from medicine and social science that love is integral to long-term romantic partnerships, close family relationships, healthy childhood development, and physical and psychological health.
And of course the New Testament prominently emphasizes love as the decisive standard of morality.
Jesus taught that love of God and love of neighbor were the two highest commandments and that loving our neighbors as ourselves fulfilled the law and the prophets. He showed through his teachings and example that all other people should be considered neighbors to love and show tangible compassion.
Paul too taught that the spirit of every commandment was fulfilled by loving our neighbors as ourselves. We are to live in love, as Christ loved us and gave himself for us. To Paul, if we get everything else right but don’t have love, our religious practice is worthless.
According to 1st John, we are called to imitate God’s love in sending his Son Jesus to die for us by loving our brothers and sisters in tangible ways. The central commandment we have from God is to love one another. Whoever does not love, does not know God, For God is love; and everyone who loves has been born of God and knows God.
This preeminence of love is echoed by the other New Testament authors. According to James love is the royal law. 1st Peter counsels Christians to, above all, maintain constant love for one another. A wide range of texts even call for love of one’s enemies.
Many other teachings that don’t use the word “love” promote some form or expression of it. For example, teachings on compassion, mercy, peace, forgiveness, giving to those in need, and so on.
The New Testament is routinely willing to heighten or reject Old Testament teaching based on how it fits with the law of love; even when the the Old Testament indicated that such teachings were permanent or eternal. We see this with Jesus’ looseness surrounding Sabbath and purity laws, the church’s rejection of the mandatory need to follow Mosaic Laws such as circumcision, and in the radical inclusion of Gentiles and other “impure” outsiders such lepers, sinners, eunuchs, and so on.
It’s possible that the early Christians were not entirely consistent with their own ethic and/or had not fully worked out its implications in regard to deeply ingrained cultural norms such as slavery or patriarchy. Alternatively, they may have seen where love was eventually leading, but not thought it was expedient to comprehensively impliment it’s most revolutionary implications in the face of scapegoating persecution and their conviction that Jesus was coming back at any moment.
This is where progressive Christians feel we build on their foundation, using their overarching moral framework that locates love at the center. But then we bring our modern knowledge about things like sexual orientation; power, privilge, and oppression; misogyny; race/racism; and so on into the mix and see what the logic of love entails in the face of the range of other knowledge we securely know. We see our support for things like loving gay relationships and full equality for women as simply a consistent application of the Bible’s own teaching regarding love as the ultimately authoritative arbiter of right and wrong.
I have argued elsewhere that the logic of love gives us a foundation for all other virtues, for justice, for evaluating cultural norms, and even for a healthier understanding of sexual ethics.
Of course, in spite of all this, it is also true that in some situations love can be costly or dangerous. Further, humans also have traits that can gravitate us toward selfishness, competition, hierarchical dominance, and out-group violence.
Justice
Moving on, as I see it, justice has to do with a right use of power to distribute penalties and benefits across society in a fair and equitable way, thus upholding people’s relationships, rights, and responsibilities.
My understanding of social justice in particular has three main components. 1) It starts out recognizing humanity’s shared value, equality, and interrelatedness. 2) It then goes on to note not just our commonalities, but also our many differences, and how these are often related in some way to systems of violence and oppression. 3) Seeing the disconnect between ideals of human value, equality, and loving interrelatedness, on the one hand, and current inequalities and oppressive realities, on the other; social justice responds in a few ways: a) Negatively, it confronts ideologies, systems, and structures of violence and oppression and seeks to overturn them for ones of peace and justice. b) Positively, it acts to promote human life, liberty, equality, community care, empowerment, and peace. And it seeks these things not as a matter of charity but as a matter of just due. In my view, social justice also calls for a special focus on and solidarity with marginalized/oppressed people.
Let me explain a little more some of my reasons for valuing and pursuing social justice, so defined.
Human Value, Equality, and Interrelatedness
Regarding the first component, my own moral intuitions and experiences with people from a wide range of cultures and backgrounds intractably show me people’s great value and equality, and that our lives are bound together with one another. This insight is partly based in empathy to other people’s joy and pain (and everything in-between). It is one of my strongest intuitions. However, it is not merely my own.
As I have documented elsewhere, a number of religions and worldviews also recognize people’s intrinsic value, fundamental equality to one another, and social (or even spiritual) interconnectedness with one another. Christianity certainly teaches this, as I will suggest below.
Throughout much of modern history, various movements have sought to expand our circle of concern and the people we consider encompassed within our own in-group to a broader range of people. To those of other tribes, nations, classes, races/ethnicities, religions, otherly-abled people, other genders and sexual orientations, and even to historic enemies.
There is nothing that guarantees this as automatic or permanent. Other movements and pressures seek to shrink us back into our tribal selves. But as we have learned more about the lives of others, as our circle of concern has enlarged and a new threshold is reached, we tend to look back on our prior bigotry and brutality with disgust. Why wasn’t it “obvious” that such behavior was wrong? Isn’t it “obvious” that we should humanize, accept, protect, and love such people as they are?
Arguably this has tied into the rise of human rights. And many if not most modern societies around the world have, at least nominally, recognized the importance of upholding human rights. People may debate what should count as a right and whether we should ground them in God, nature, reason, or social contract; but few people would dispute the merit in such ways of thinking and governing.
As a Christian, I see human rights as grounded in humanity being created in the image of God. However, even beyond any deeper spiritual justification, it makes pragmatic sense to to create societies whose baseline presumption is one of human rights and human equality – even if this is a legal construct that lacks any deeper metaphysical reality. We could all fall on hard times and become seen as a burden or less-than. If we reserve the right to categorize any group of people as non-valuable, non-equal, or not related to ourselves, we open the door to others putting anyone they don’t want into such a category. Our understanding of various rights comes (at least in part) from our experience of grievous wrongs and what life can be like without such norms as protection.
There is a range of evidence that lends support to the reasonability and beneficial value of various forms of social equality. For example, there is evidence that humans are biologically more alike than we are different, that race is largely a social construct (though of course, one with a very real impact on people’s lives). Various cultures can be quite different, and we should not whitewash that. However, many of our basic urges and needs, hopes and fears, and perceived goods and evils are the same. There is evidence that immigrants tend to boost a nations economy rather than drain it.
Although men and women have real differences, there is evidence that they also share most traits and capabilities in common and that many gender roles are social constructs (though again, ones with real impacts). There is evidence that gay relationships and families can be just as healthy and fulfilling as heterosexual ones.
There is evidence that gross economic inequality is harmful, not just to poor people, but to societies (and even to the rich) over time. There is evidence that great wealth does not make people significantly happier than those who have what they need to live (but not more). Many of the things that research has shown to make us most happy are relational, values-driven, and/or inexpensive. There is reason to believe that we have enough food and resources to go around, if we had the political will and infrastructure(s) to do so. There is evidence that policies of preventative care and restorative justice are often cheaper (not to mention more compassionate and humane) then dealing with full-blown social problems later in a purely punitive way.
And of course, evidence and experience show that war is positively destructive (to individuals, communities, and the environment) and also diverts precious resources that could be used for more creative and life-giving endeavors. While we should not be naive, and fighting might be necessary in extreme circumstances, it is often better to proactively pursue policies that promote peace and seek mutual disarmament (when possible). There is abundant evidence for our interrelationship with the natural world and for the critical importance of caring for our environment and learning to live in it in (more) sustainable ways. There is overwhelming evidence for human-made climate change and other destructive results of failing to care for our environment.
These and other such evidences show me that social equality is not just morally right, but often also makes practical sense.
As to the interrelated part, I see this as both descriptively true in fact and an ideal for which we should strive. Humans are intractably social creatures. We depend on each other to survive and thrive. Although many in the West gravitate towards radically individualistic and meritocratic notions, none of us are completely self-made men or women. We all depended on the support of others to get where we are today. All of us are shaped by our nurture and environment. And quite often, one person or group’s privilege comes directly at the expense of another’s oppression. Whether we are conscious of that or not.
Humans have always been interconnected with each other and the natural world (of which we are a part). But especially now, in a modern globalized world, where our cultures and commerce blend together and where we rely on mutually dependent specializations and fragile networks to survive, this is the case. And with pollution, climate change, global pandemics, and biological and nuclear weapons threatening our very existence, our survival and flourishing are more bound up together than ever before.
As to the ideal, in my view, we are all in this together. We all have dignity and worth and unique things to contribute. We should all have our basic rights respected and our basic needs met. If we can focus on our shared identity and keep expanding the web of who we consider as “in” our group or family, so to speak; we begin to see that helping others is like helping ourselves. And not only at the individual level. At a political and stuctural level we should seek to make our communities reflect these values. This implies equal rights and equal access to opportunities and resources. It implies the end of all socially constructed forms of discriminatory difference and oppression. It means structuring societies such that people’s well-being is collectively prioritized and promoted. Recognizing that we are more alike and interconnected than we sometimes think—that our lives are bound up together—comes with increased responsibility to love and sacrifice for the common good; but it also comes with an expanded community of family to learn from, rejoice with, and depend on.
The Bible itself says that all humans are created in the image of God, and as such, are endowed with great dignity and worth. It teaches that humans are eternal (or have the potential to be so), and that this makes us more valuable than mere perishable things. Jesus told his disciples that God provided for the needs of his creation and cared even more for human beings, who were worth more than the birds of the air or lilies of the field. The Bible’s (and Jesus’) consistent concern for the welfare of vulnerable groups of people such as widows, orphans, strangers, and poor people reminds us that everyone is valuable and of our responsibilities towards others. The early Christians normatively had all things in common, saw their identity “in Christ” as radically subverting traditional differences and hierarchies, and quite clearly saw their lives as bound up with one another. Arguably, God as a Trinity shows that loving interrelatedness of diverse members in unity and equality is at the core foundation of reality.
Of course, this sense of humanity as one connected family or “in-group” is not fully natural to humans. We have evolved to value our children and biological family over others and our immediate in-groups vs. other out-groups. We still have those negative traits mentioned above that can gravitate us toward selfishness, competition, hierarchical dominance, and out-group violence. That is why human value, equality, and loving interrelatedness are ideals that must be progressively sought.
Oppressive Differences and Systems
Moving on to the second component, there is abundant evidence of a number of “savage inequalities” that are related, not just to individual choices or acts, but also to oppressive ideologies, systems, and structures (for which I will use the term “systems” as shorthand). I have learned more about these in various ways, including listening to the testimony of marginalized and oppressed people; researching broader sociological causes, effects, and patterns; reading about history from a number of perspectives; and through my own observations and reflection.
Many different religions and worldviews also recognize, to varying degrees, the tendency for marginalized/vulnerable people to be actively oppressed or passively neglected and the need to take special measures to ensure their well being. Christianity certainly teaches this, as I will show below. So I have also learned from and been inspired by these traditions, and especially the teachings and example of Jesus.
I’ve seen how power is often used to dominate, dehumanize, and exploit people without it in unfair ways, often through violence. I’ve learned how those in power devise various ideologies and socially constructed understandings to justify their domination and exploitation of others (or to scapegoat vulnerable others as the true villains). I’ve come to recognize how they create hierarchal societies that privilege some with unearned benefits and (often) conferred dominance, simply because of the social category with which they are identified. I’ve seen how they center and identify such societies on/with themselves. I’ve seen how privilege can blind us to the unfairness of what is happening and how it can make us feel threatened and treated unfairly when an actual unfair status quo is challenged.
I’ve seen overwhelming evidence for the individual and structural harm of systems of racism, classism, colonialism, authoritarianism, xenophobia, patriarchy/misogyny, homophobia and transphobia, ableism, ageism, religious persecution, militarism and violence, ecological exploitation and destruction, and gross economic inequality and exploitation.
This way of couching oppressive differences (as “isms”) may sound clinical and academic. But it’s important to keep in mind that we are talking about tangible harm to others. I remember reading about a Brazilian priest who confronted a woman with a wailing baby to feed her baby, only to discover that she was so poor and malnourished her body literally had no milk to give the baby. I could list numerous other tangible examples, such as Afghan women killed by their own families for the supposed shame of being raped; homeless gay youth kicked out of homes because of their sexual orientation; black American men choked to death by police while pleading for their lives, within a wider context of grossly unequal treatment within the criminal justice system; workers exposed to brutal and dehumanizing work conditions, without adequate compensation, while corporate owners amass piles of wealth off of their labor; and so on. When I read about things like these and then learn about some of the larger systemic reasons they happen, I can’t help but feel angry and saddened by these injustices. A fire burns within me to go out and right these wrongs – in solidarity with oppressed people and others committed to the same goals. Or at least it does when I’m at my best.
Of course, this needs to be done in a way that is evidence-based and pragmatic rather than simply impassioned. But it’s important to keep both the larger structural component and the individual flesh-and-blood stakes in mind.
The systemic/structural element to these various systems means that one can participate in and benefit from a system of domination, oppression, or privilege that harms others without consciously being aware of that or intending any malice toward others in one’s heart.
For example, studies show that people can internalize stereotypes and harbor implicit bias against others without intending this or being aware of it. Studies also show that marginalized people can internalize the negative stereotypes and assessments of their worth put forth by dominant groups (internalized oppression).
People from dominant groups often engage in “microaggressions” toward marginalized/oppressed people. Microaggressions are “everyday verbal, non-verbal, and environmental slights, snubs, or insults which communicate hostile, derogatory, or negative messages to target persons based solely upon their marginalized group membership.” Sometimes insult is consciously intended, but people can enact a microaggression without even realizing it.
Privilege can fundamentally skew people’s perception of reality. It can make people with it oblivious to what the experiences of marginalized and oppressed people are really like. Studies show that people with privilege can honestly misperceive demonstrably unequal arrangements as actually equal/fair. Because of this, they regularly view movements toward actual equality as an unfair assault. They can think that because they benefit from various institution (or are not harmed by them) that this is the experience of everyone, when that is not the case. They can be unaware of special actions needed to right wrongs and give marginalized/oppressed people more equitable inclusion in society.
Various laws, practices, and language which do not explicitly favor specific groups over others or unfairly target other groups can have that effect as an outcome. This is often consciously intended (if disingenuously veiled) by those seeking to maintain power and privilege. But whether intended or not, it can naturally result from existing disparities, prejudice, and power differentials. Relatedly, systemic/structural oppression can also result from the inertia and ongoing effects of past injustices as they play out in society.
There is evidence that oppressive ideologies and socially constructed narratives do not necessarily flow out of ignorance or hatred as such; rather they are engineered specifically to justify unequal, often exploitative arrangements. So the movement is not that people hate others and then choose to act in harmful ways toward them out of this conscious malice. Instead, what often happens is that they find an unequal and/or exploitative relationship to be convenient and then come up with the ideology or narrative to justify this after the fact. People don’t have to hate others to buy into such beliefs, these beliefs merely need to be convenient (and/or reconsidering them be inconvenient). This phenomena also creates inertia toward the maintenance of unjust practices because dominant groups can become economically dependent on them and culturally and/or personally wrapped up in them in ways that can make change costly.
Ill-founded but sincerely held beliefs about the chosenness, exceptionality, or righteousness of one’s own in-group (along with the evil, otherness, or inferiority of “outsiders”) often act to justify enormous amounts of violence, discrimination, and exploitation. This can combine with whitewashed beliefs about a mythic past and a culture that glorifies martial violence. While violence may sometimes be justified as a tragic last resort, such views too often see it as a “redemptive” good. They also tend to be blinded to the complexity of various conflicts or the atrocities and oppression committed by their own forces.
Many people sincerely buy into the myth of meritocracy: that everyone has more-or-less the same opportunities to succeed in life if they just work hard enough. The logical implication of this is that those who struggle or fail to succeed only have themselves to blame. Of course, we all have the ability (and responsibility) to do the best we can with the hand we have been dealt. But it is not the case that we all have the same opportunities or start out on a level playing field. Some people start out life with the deck stacked against them (or stacked for them, as the case may be). Various forms of inequity and how they play out in people’s upbringings and lived environments exercise an enormous influence on their lives. Furthermore, many hierarchies and inequalities are intentionally made and maintained by those people in power.
Much more could be said here, but these examples and analysis are meant to show the systemic/structural complexity of various systems of oppression. This is not just about individual acts or conscious intent; it is about oppressive disparities and outcomes.
I’ve come to realize that although we should love everyone, and some elements of loving others apply to all people, vulnerable and oppressed people face uniquely challenging circumstances that require special consideration, solidarity, and redress.
The Bible and Justice for Vulnerable People
In many places the Bible also recognize the tendency for marginalized/vulnerable people to be actively oppressed or passively neglected. In many places it calls for special measures to be taken to ensure justice for them and their well-being.
For example, according to the Old Testament, the founding event for Israel was God’s rescue of the Hebrews from Egyptian slavery. This episode is alluded to numerous times throughout the Old Testament and is regularly appealed to as a reason God expected Israel to care for vulnerable people and treat them with justice.
In numerous places in the Old Testament Israel is commanded to take special measures to care for widows, orphans, strangers (immigrants), poor people, and other vulnerable groups of people. Many of these texts indicate that this care was not just to be a charitable impulse, but was a matter of political justice. For example, farmers were commanded to leave the edges of their fields unharvested so the poor could eat; charging interest was condemned so the rich could not prey on the vulnerable; and after seven years, debts were to be cancelled and (Israelite) slaves set free, and after fifty years land was to revert back to its original owner.
Such justice is commanded repeatedly in the Mosaic law. Failure to insure it was one of the prophets’ major indictments of Israel that led to her judgment. According to them, worship and sacrifice without justice is an abomination to God. The Old Testament also condemns unjust laws and corrupted enforcement of just laws, which do violence to marginalized people.
Although many Old Testament texts stand behind human violence, there is a stream of texts which picture violence as dysfunctional and evil, that discourage reliance on accumulated weapons of war, and which anticipate God’s renewed world as a place of peace where war is studied no more. Many Old Testament texts recognize the propensity of kings and rulers to exorcise power in violent and domineering ways. Other texts that are more sympathetic to monarchic rule, via the Davidic dynasty, picture the ideal king as treating the vulnerable, particularly, with justice. The Old Testament also pictures God’s Servant and Messiah as bringing justice for Israel and the Gentile nations. It’s eschatological hope is for God to restore Israel and the nations and for there to finally be lasting peace and justice and plenty for all.
In the New Testament, Jesus’ birth narratives foresee him bringing down the proud and mighty and lifting up the humble and oppressed. In his inaugural message Jesus claimed that the Spirit of God was upon him to announce good news to the poor, heal the blind, free the oppressed, and proclaim the (jubilee) year of the Lord. Jesus’ primary message seems to have been about the kingdom of God. Jesus believed that God’s kingdom was beginning to break into the world through his ministry, but awaited its final consummation. This kingdom was one characterized by a justice-righteousness which was opposed to the injustices of the principalities and powers of the present age. Specific texts indicate this, but it is implicit elsewhere based on Old Testament and Second Temple Jewish expectations of what God’s new world would be like. Jesus called people to repent of old ways of living and join his contrast community that sought to collectively live according to kingdom ideals.
Although Jesus sought to save everyone, in line with his stated focus, he reached out particularly to marginalized and oppressed people, including lepers and others with physical afflictions, the demon possessed, poor people, despised sinners, and women and children. It’s important to note that when Jesus healed and exorcised people, this did not just free them of their physical or spiritual ailments, it allowed them to be restored again to communities that would have (often) previously shunned them as “unclean” or cursed by God. Jesus practiced open table fellowship with sinners (something scandalous to many religious people of the day) and he spoke regularly about God’s kingdom in terms of a great banquet to which sinful (repentant) and low-status people would find a place but the self-preoccupied would find themselves excluded. Jesus welcomed women disciples, something unusual at that time, and he (generally) treated women with respect. Although Jesus saw his ministry as primarily geared toward Jews and could speak of Gentiles in a derogatory way; he was moved by the faith of Gentiles, went out of his way to reach out to them and hold them up as exemplars, and foresaw their inclusion in God’s kingdom.
Jesus taught that love of neighbor (along with love of God) fulfilled the entire law and then showed, through the parable of the Good Samaritan, that all other people – even those of despised out-groups – should be considered neighbors to love and show tangible compassion. Jesus regularly spoke against riches and the wealthy. He called for his followers to sell their possessions and live simply and give generously to those in need. Jesus warned against lording over others in a domineering way. Instead, he expected leaders to be servants of all and for those who would be first in God’s kingdom to humble themselves and become like the last. Jesus warned that those who live by the sword will die by it. He said that it was the peacemakers who would be blessed and called his followers to love and forgive their enemies and forgo retaliation. Jesus himself modeled such radical love and forgiveness in his own behavior.
Although Jesus could be demanding of everyone and warned of coming judgment generally, many of his harshest words were reserved for the religious and political elites who exploited the vulnerable. Jesus spoke prophetically against their focus on minutia of the law while neglecting weightier matters of mercy, compassion, and justice. Jesus warned that the last judgment would be based on people’s tangible acts of helping the “least of these” (the hungry, thirsty, naked, imprisoned, and so on). He said the poor, the hungry, those who weep, the meek, the merciful, peacemakers, and those who hunger for and are persecuted for justice’s sake would be blessed in God’s coming kingdom. Those who were rich and (over) satisfied now would experience woe.
Part of Jesus’ activity in his last week that led to his death included prophetic words and symbolic action against the injustices of the Jerusalem ruling class. Jesus’ very means of death – crucifixion on a Roman cross – shows that he was perceived to be a subversive threat to imperial rule.
Christians believe that God raised Jesus from the dead, vindicating him and overruling the powers of sin, oppression, and death. Jesus taught his disciples that they too would likely suffer for their allegiance to him and his way, that they needed to be willing to pick up their crosses and follow him in risking persecution for the sake of the kingdom’s justice. But if they shared in his sufferings, they would also share in his eschatological vindication. Resurrection is a fundamentally revolutionary teaching. It promises that while unjust institutions may seem to win in the here-and-now, God has the final word. Jesus’ resurrection strips oppressive institutions of the potency behind their threats of violence and death. It justifies Jesus followers in their repudiation of ways of violence and domination. And it frees them to live lives of faithful witness, solidarity, and resistance, trusting that God is the one who will ultimately make things right in his renewed world.
Many of the titles and roles assigned to Jesus by the early Christians were already ascribed to Caesar. These included Son of God, Lord, savior of the world, and bringer of peace. Rome’s imperial theology taught that the gods favored Rome and stood behind its dominating, exploitative, and militaristic uses of power. In contrast to this, Jesus revealed a very different understanding of God and his ways. He showed a God who reached out to and identified with the oppressed. A God who used his sovereignty not to exploit others but to seek, serve, and save them. He showed a God who was a reconciler and peacemaker. A God who acted out of self-sacrificial love. And Jesus called on others to imitate God in this way of relating to others. Confessing allegiance to Jesus as Lord was and is radically subversive to Empire.
Of course, the Gospel writers, building on the Old Testament, believed that Jesus, as God’s Servant and Messiah, would bring justice for Israel as well as the Gentile nations. There are numerous other justice themes in the Gospels and they regularly show Jesus’ special focus on marginalized/vulnerable people and calls for justice for them. Of course, Jesus himself was a marginalized member of a colonized and oppressed people. Jesus and the Bible more generally have to be understood in their historical context of ancient domination systems.
In line with Jesus’ way, the early Christians sought to make their communities ones that lived in equality, peace, and justice. According to Acts, the early Christians normatively held all things in common and those who had more than they needed would give, as they were able, to others as they had a need. Paul too invested a significant amount of his writing and activity to encouraging economic sharing. We see this, for example, in his efforts to collect donations for poor Christians in Jerusalem and in his expressed wish for equality, such that those who had plenty should give to others in need.
1 John declares that if we have the means to help others in need and fail to provide for them, the love of God does not abide in us. James said that if we claim to have faith without works of practical love for the poor our faith is dead, that true religion is to care for widows and orphans. He also condemned rich landowners who exploited their workers. Many of these sources, like Jesus, also explicitly instruct Christians to not give preference to the those of high status or look down on those of low status. The book of Revelation not only critiques the “beastly” idolatry of Rome’s imperial cult, but also their domineering violence, slavery, economic oppression, and destruction of the earth.
Perhaps even more than in Jesus’ earthly ministry, the early Christians, who were initially all Jews, felt led to welcome and include Gentiles into their communities. The decision to include Gentiles as equals in the church, without requiring them to follow Torah requirements such as circumcism or kosher food regulations was radical, and indeed controversial. So too was their subversive interpretive approaches to the Old Testament that helped justify such actions. Paul taught that Christians were now no longer defined by being Jew or Gentile, slave or free, male or female, but that they were all equally one “in Christ.” Revelation envisions people from every tongue, tribe, and nation worshipping God together in the new heavens and earth.
Many New Testament passages instruct the early Christians to live peaceably with others (as much as they are able), to love and forgive others who wrong them, to leave vengeance to God, and to pursue a ministry that facilitates reconciliation. The early Christians also acted to heal the sick and exorcise the demonized. They welcomed people such as the Ethiopian eunuch with conditions that would have previously bared them from full inclusion in worshipping community. There is an interesting thread of texts that defend prisoners, encourage restorative practices, and arguably subvert punitive and oppressive carceral systems; though other texts seem to defend the governing powers use of punitive punishment.
While most of the Bible teaches or assumes patriarchal norms where women are essentially “owned” and controlled by men, arguably there is a minority thread within it (and particularly the New Testament) that is more egalitarian. Similarly, much of the Bible teaches or assumes the normativity of slavery. However, again there is a thread of texts that appear to subvert this. The Bible regularly portrays gay sexual activity as wrong. However, there are some Biblical and cultural-contextual insights that play into a wider case for full acceptance of gay people and relationships (as well as LGBTQ people more generally). Although a lot more could be said here, in all of these cases the Bible’s love ethic, combined with our own empirical observations and experiences, show that patriarchy, slavery, and homophobia are wrong and that full freedom, equality, and inclusion for these oft oppressed groups of people is right.
As I’ve alluded to, the Bible is not wholly consistent in its liberating message. In places it lends support to patriarchy, homophobia, slavery, xenophobia, and violence. Further, some of its instruction seems to adopt a stance of passivity and spiritual escapism in the face of injustice. I will note below some of the complexities of moving from the Bible’s teaching on justice to a modern application.
But again, I believe the overarching point here is born out by the Bible as well: human beings do not just share commonalities but also have many difference, and these differences tend to make marginalized/vulnerable people susceptible to systems of violence and oppression.
Action for Social Justice
Moving on, the third component has to do with actions to protect human value, equality, and (loving) interrelatedness and confront the oppressive realities which violate these things. It would seem that such actions logically follow if the first two components are true, as I have argued. There is room to debate what goals and methods are appropriate, but I do not see how we can claim to love other people, to recognize their great value and worth, along with our shared identity and responsibilities, and the reality of oppressive systems that inflict immeasurable harm on them, if we do nothing to confront such systems and act to promote their well-being.
This should happen on both individual and societal levels. The connection of love to both individual acts of care and action toward larger structural change is often illustrated through the following analogy. Imagine you live by a river and you see someone floating by who is drowning. Naturally, you swim out to rescue them. But then you see more and more drowning people being swept by. You go up stream to see what is going on and see there is a bridge that has large gaps that people are consistently falling through. You have a choice now. There are still those drowning people in the river who are in urgent need of care. But you also recognize that if you can fix the hole(s) in the bridge that set them up to fall into the river in the first place, you can fix the root cause of their imperiled condition. While both focuses have merit and perhaps different people might feel called to focus more on one or the other, in terms of logical priority it would make sense to fix the bridge. In the analogy, acts of care are like rescuing individual drowning people and fixing the bridge corresponds to enacting deeper social-structural change in line with justice.
Of course, in real life, some unjust structures are incredibly resistant to fixing. And in some cases solutions to fill one “gap” in the bridge can expose a gap somewhere else. But there really are things we can do to make things better at a larger social level. And both individual acts of care and action toward larger social justice flow out of love, or at least they can.
I want to briefly clarify some elements of this third component and survey some various ways action for social justice can be pursued. Obviously I cannot cover everything here. My goal is to get at what I see as the essence of the task. At least as I see it right now (in the context of continuing to learn more).
As noted, I see social justice as rooted in and flowing out of love. I see it as building on human commonalities of value, equality, and interrelatedness and proceeding under an honest recognition of oppressive differences and various systems of violence and oppression.
In line with my first core commitment, social justice must be grounded in truth, and use evidence and experience in its analysis of problems and proposed solutions. This means listening to marginalized and oppressed people as they share their experiences. It means reading evidence-based scholarship that approaches these issues from a range of broader perspectives. Action toward social justice should be willing to test out different policies, programs, and practices to see if they really work (and what works best). While always seeking the ideal, social justice activism should be honest about imperfect change/progress, the reality that solutions are sometimes elusive, and be willing to make strategic compromises when necessary. It must take into account complexed social realities and possible unintended consequences of various proposals.
In line with my second core commitment, social justice must recognize that embodied flourishing in this world matters. Thus, while it may hope for a future, other-worldly justice as well; it recognizes our duty to pursue earthly justice here-and-now. That in fact, pursing this is one way we partner with God in bringing his salvation to earth.
Action for social justice should flow out of a special focus on and solaridarity with marginalized and oppressed people. As noted above, I believe we are called to love everyone and many elements of loving others will apply to everyone. Further, the goal here is not to give currently oppressed people an unfair advantage such that they become unfairly privileged or themselves oppressors (though the actions necessary to bring about genuine equity might feel that way to currently privileged people). However, as also noted, marginalized/oppressed people face uniquely challenging circumstances that require special consideration, solidarity, and redress. Privilege fundamentally skews one’s perception of reality. We simply cannot understand the oppressive situations many others face or the changes needed for their equitably inclusion in society without nurturing solidarity with them. As privileged people seek to do this, they need to do so as humble-learning allies rather than as self-centered “saviors.”
Intentionally building relationships with marginalized/oppressed people shows us more our commonality and equality. It has the power to elicit our empathy and compassion. It gives us a stake in the struggle and tends to prompt more robust solidarity. Marginalized/oppressed people become not just a “cause” or “principle,” but family. Our lives become bound up together with one another. Speaking personally, my relationships with various marginalized/oppressed friends has opened my eyes to realities I would not have otherwise known. It has inspired a fierce loyalty to them and pretectiveness on their behalf in the face of forces that do them harm. I think particularly of my friends who are BIPOC, trans, women, gay and lesbian, ortherly-abled, poor, immigrant and refugee, residing outside the US, and from other religious traditions.
An important part of solidarity with marginalized/oppressed people is being willing to re-examine history and dominant cultural narratives from their perspectives. This will involve confronting outright lies and mischaracterizations regarding them. It will require resisting tellings that unjustly minimize harm done to them (including the scope of systemic oppression). It will involve highlighting their unique experiences and contributions. And it will include calling out narratives that only or primarily center on dominant groups. The goal here is not to be unfair or “rewrite history” in an untruthful way. As in everything, truth and evidence are key. But part of the way systems of privilege and oppression work is by crafting misleading and unrepresentative narratives about past and present realities.
Action for social justice must prioritize protecting people’s lives and pursuing actions that protect and facilitate life. In my view, in the hierarchy of rights, rights to life and the means of sustaining life come first. That means insuring that people have food, shelter, clothing, healthcare, and safety from violence and life-threatening situations. It means, all things being equal, and to the extent possible, preferring solutions to social problems that are life-giving and restorative over ones that are harshly punitive. It means taking preventative care measures to facilitate community health and well-being. It means caring for people’s mental health and eschewing views and practices that cause unnecessarily anguish and death. It means the end of war and violence (or minimizing them as much as possible). It means ending harmful, exploitative economic/labor practices and replacing them with safe and fair ones. It means caring for our natural environment and limiting practices that destroy it. It means counteracting socially constructed hierarchies that treat some people’s lives as mattering more than others. All of this is to say, it means taking a consistent ethic of human life. While I believe a special focus on protecting human life is warranted, minimizing unnecessary animal suffering and death is also appropriate.
Some would also argue that this concern for protecting human life should also extend to unborn humans. Such a stance implies opposition to abortion in most cases. I’m sympathetic to this perspective. However, I note a few things. 1) When personhood begins is a legitimately debatable question. 2) Even if fetuses are persons, another debatable issue concerns if bodily autonomy might mean that women cannot be forced to donate their bodies to sustaining a fetus against their will. 3) For those who oppose abortion, the goal should be to actually prevent abortions rather than merely criminalize them. And 4) to have any integrity, being pro-life has to mean more than just unborn lives. It has to include all of human life (womb-to-tomb) and the entire range of considerations related to protecting and facilitating life.
Action for social justice must pursue people’s freedom. This means freedom from literal enslavement and semi-slave-like situations. It means freedom from colonial exploitation and prejudicial imprisonment. It means equal access to the “negative rights” others are accorded which protect our basic liberties from tyranny. These include things like freedom of speech, freedom of the press, the right to peaceful assembly, freedom of religion, freedom from violence, the right to a fair trial, and so on. Freedom must include the right to vote and/or in other ways have equal access to political power and political self-determination. It means freedom from oppressive systems that tell people that God has relegated them to submit to the authority of others, simply because of who they are. Real freedom should mean not just having the right to choose different options in the abstract, but having the resources and security to actually be able to choose from a range of dignified life-options.
Action for social justice should be aimed at equity (or something approaching that). As I noted, I see social justice as seeking a fair and equitable distribution of society’s benefits (e.g. resources, opportunities, privileges, and power). Equity must also include a fair and equitable distribution of societies penalties (e.g. in its criminal justice system) and its burdens (such as negative externalities like depletion or pollution). Of course, what counts as a fair and equitable distribution is debatable. I am still thinking through some of these issue and admit my uncertainty about some matters.
In my view, equity must include equal access to the “negative rights” listed above which protect our basic liberties from tyranny. Equity must include equal access to voting rights and other ways of substantially influencing the decisions of government and other institutions of power. True political equity must further include equitable representation of marginalized/oppressed people in actual leadership positions. In addition to negative rights, I also count myself an adherent of “positive rights.” As I see it, all things being equal, and to the extent possible, a just society has an obligation to organize itself such that the basic needs of people, which allow them to live with dignity, are provided. These include, but are not necessarily limited to, the right to life, food, clothing, shelter, rest, healthcare, education, and a living wage. So equity must include having these things insured. Equity extends beyond what government and laws can achieve. True equity will require transforming the hearts and minds of people and changing practices in private institutions. It will mean abandoning prejudicial beliefs and discriminatory practices and replacing them with humanizing views, fair practices, and reparative actions (where necessary).
But I would go farther than even this. This bare minimum is not yet true equity either. I tend to see a more evening redistribution of resources, opportunities, privileges, and power as necessary – though how much and through what means becomes debatable. It’s partly debatable because the (final) details are inevitably tied to differing views on political and economic systems – highly complex and contentious issues. It is also debatably because, in my view, a “flatly” even distribution of benefits, such that everyone has exactly the same as everyone else, is probably neither possible or fair. And if that is the case, how do we decide which kinds of disparities are fair and which become oppressive?
Although I think common meritocratic notions are fundamentally flawed, it makes sense to me that, while everyone deserves the right to have their basic needs met (in the tradition of positive rights), and while some kind of further redistribution of societies benefits is necessary, there may be a curved graduation of who gets (many) benefits that is based at least partly on merit. That said, however, in my view a fair curve should amount to a gentle incline, with upper limits imposed, whereas our society has grossly unequal valleys next to towering skyscrapers of inequality.
I see a redistribution of societies benefits as necessary for some of the following reasons: 1) Current disparities in the distribution of benefits result in large part from oppressive practices and systems, both historically and on into today (as I have argued). Correcting these injustices will require taking extra reparative measures. 2) Even if these disparities were obtained in a legitimate/fair way, such massive imbalances give unfair power and advantage to the rich, privileged, and powerful. Their very existence tends to subvert justice. For that reason alone, they deserve to be limited to some degree. 3) As noted above, various forms of inequality can actually hurt a society over time. Social equity is not just morally right, but often also makes practical sense. 4) As I also pointed out, great wealth does not actually make people significantly happier than those who have what they need to live but not more. But abject poverty does inflict immense suffering on people. The contrast of extreme accumulations of benefits for a few – in some cases more than they could possibly ever use, with limited returns on happiness, set alongside the majority of people who struggle to get by and suffer immense harm because of it, strikes me as both irrational and morally repugnant. 5) Beyond active oppression, special accommodations will need to be made if otherly-abled people are to be equitably included in society. 6) While many people balk at the notion of a more equal (re)distribution of resources, they at least agree that people deserve equal access to the same opportunities. But the two cannot be fully separated. One cannot have anything approaching the same access to opportunities without some greater parity in resources. 7) Ultimately, my conviction that a more evening redistribution of society’s benefits is needed flows out of my understandings regarding intrinsic human value and equality, our empirical interconnectedness and collective moral responsibility for each other, and the nature and scope of systemic oppression.
Moving on, in my view, action for social justice must have a community-oriented focus in a few different ways: it should emphasize our collective responsibility for each other’s well-being, be pursued in collaborative solidarity with others, and aim at building up loving, inclusive communities.
As I contended above, I believe we are interrelated with each other both as an empirical fact and also as an ethical ideal. What we do effects others and is connected to a set of socio-political arrangements that effect others (and the reverse is true as well). In particularly, one person or group’s privilege often comes directly at the expense of another’s oppression. We bear personal responsibility for what we do with our situation (such as it is). But given all this, I can’t see how we can avoid also having some degree of collective responsibility for each other’s well-being. That fits with our empirical interrelatedness, but it also fits with my ethical intuitions, the teachings of many religions and worldviews, and (I would argue) those of the Bible. Finally, some social justice goals can only be achieved by collective cooperation rather than through individual action (for example, large-scale projects like social-safety nets, universal healthcare, or effectively caring for our natural environment). As I understand it, social justice is innately relational. It is about right relationships with others, and not only about the isolated rights of individuals.
As to collaborative action with others, this is essential in a few ways. As noted above, action for social justice must be informed by relationships with marginalized and oppressed people themselves. It should learn from the research, experience, and example of people already doing the work of pursuing justice. There is no need to reinvent the wheel. Justice work challenges entrenched oppressive systems and powerful people with a mass of resources to protect the status quo. There is no way to succeed against this “power from above” apart from organizing, networking, and building coalitions of countervailing “power from below.” Justice work can be difficult, isolating, and scary. We need other people for support. Where movements are having trouble changing larger culture, they can still choose to build-up their own alternative communities that seek to live in justice with one another. Justice work cannot only focus on tearing down oppressive systems, but should also focus on building up and celebrating beloved communities.
Coming together in loving communities must be a primary (if not the primary) goal of social justice. As noted, we must learn to focus on our shared value and identity as human beings. We must progressively expand the web of who we consider “in” our group or family (so to speak) to intentionally include formerly excluded groups of people such as those of other tribes, nations, classes, races/ethnicities, religions, otherly-able people, and other genders and sexual orientations.
While justice-minded people all inevitably have our different populations and causes we are most passionate about, action for social justice should have the ultimate goal of achieving justice for everyone. As Martin Luther King Jr. said, injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. This means partnering in solidarity with other oppressed peoples and movements. It will require resisting divide-and-conquer pressures that seek to pit oppressed peoples against one another. It also means paying attention to how different forms of privilege and oppression combine and intersect with one another (intersectionality).
Action for social justice must seek to empower people, and especially marginalized and oppressed people. This means supporting their freedom and agency in decision making. It means recognizing their current resiliency and strengths. It means assisting them in gaining new skills, resources, and access to social/political power. It means amplifying their voices and empowering their movements for justice. It means advocating for their rights, needs, identities, and lives. It means intentionally including them and equitably sharing power/representation with them. It means reinforcing their self-worth and defending their ableness and worth to others. This will include confronting derogatory and oppressive stereotypes and supposedly “natural” conceptions of their subordination or inferiority. As noted, it means supporting them as humble-learning allies rather than self-centered “saviors.”
As part of empowerment, action for social justice should foster a balanced sense of responsibility and agency. As I’ve suggested, I don’t buy into notions of radical individualism or meritocracy. I think we need to be honest about the scope of systemic oppression. But I think it is also healthy to encourage people to take responsible for their own contributions to their situation (whatever those may be). While being real about systemic obstacles, it is empowering to inspire a sense of agency in pursuing goals. And in the ways that people may be (unfairly) privileged, it’s important to foster a sense of ownership of these injustices, with a duty to participate in correcting them. As noted, I believe we all have some degree of collective responsibly for each other’s well-being.
Action for social justice should, all things being equal, prioritize peace and non-violent practices that are conducive to peace and reconciliation. Peace should certainly be prized as an ultimate goal to pursue. Conflict and violence (often) violate love and tend toward disproportionate harm and destruction. Of course, true peace is not merely the absence of conflict, but the presence of justice. It’s possible to have false calls for peace that try to smother legitimate confrontations with oppressive systems and status quos. Beyond peace as a goal, active non-violent practices have proven to (often) be highly effective in bringing about change for justice. For that reason, some activists choose to use active non-violent practices as a pragmatic tactic. Others go further and adopt a full-blown pacifist stance as a way of life.
I am torn about full-blown pacifism. It seems to me that pacifists have done a good job of showing how even supposedly “redemptive”/just uses of violence tend to also harm innocent people, inspire further animosity and violence, play into overly dualistic narratives about heroes and villains, and tempt toward utilitarian justifications of horrific means to achieve supposedly just ends. Of course, many uses of violence are flagrantly unjust. I also see strong evidence that Jesus and the early Christians were pacifists (as hinted at above), and am bound to presumptively submit to their teaching. Further, I can see the simplicity and power non-violence often has to shape attitudes of love.
On the other hand, there are number of situations where violence not only seems justified, but to refrain from it would seem prima facie unloving (to victimized people). My study of history and evolutionary psychology suggest to me that non-violence does not always work in deterring the violent impositions of others. My study of various movements for social justice indicate that violence (or the threat of possible violence) often played a significant role in changing oppressive practices. Further, I’m not sure Jesus and the early Christians were always right, and I recognize the complexity of moving from Biblical interpretation to modern application. Finally, it seems to me that some (though not all) pacifists evince a deficient understanding of how systems of privilege and oppression work, the need to actively confront them, the this-worldly effectiveness of violence in some situations, or the distinction between liberative violence and imperial-exploitative violence.
But while I may or may not embrace a full-blown pacifism, I believe we should maintain a strong, presumptive preference for ways of peace, non-violence, mercy, and reconciliation/restoration. If and when violence becomes necessary, it should always be seen as a tragic and evil last resort (a lesser of two evils).
To be most effective, action for social justice must aim at large-scale systemic-structural change. I am becoming convinced that it is not enough to simply diversify or reform many of our current institutions. I believe we need more drastic and whole-sale change, though I am still thinking through the details of what that should mean.
Action for social justice must proceed under the awareness that the work will inevitably require conflict. As Frederick Douglass noted, those in power never give up unjust arrangements willingly. This will mean that seeking justice will often be unpopular and even dangerous. It will often seem divisive to those who benefit from the current stats quo. Of course, we shouldn’t want to be divisive just for divisions sake or out of a place of arrogant superiority. However, there is no way to achieve social justice ends without coming into conflict with oppressive systems and those who maintain them. And as others point out, systems of privilege and oppression are already destructively divisive. Exposing and confronting these systems only brings to the surface oppressive divisions that are already shredding bonds of human love and equality.
Action for social justice needs to be pursued with the understanding that justice is an ideal that will always be imperfectly and (thus) progressively sought. This imperfection means we can never think that we have arrived. We must always re-access, from the standpoint of the most marginalized and oppressed, what the actual effects have been of our actions taken. Imperfection also means owning our own limitations and inevitable failings. An ethic that aspires to love and justice can feel oppressive in its open-endedness if not balanced with perspective, self-care, and grace. There are so many people who need help and so many injustices to confront that activists for justice often wrestle with whether they should do more. It’s not an easy dilemma to solve because it is certainly possible to do too little. It is right to challenge ourselves and others to do more and better. However, none of us can do it all or even all of what we might eventually be able to do, all at once. Further, although we must constantly interrogate and repent of our complicity in various systems of injustice; there is probably no way to avoid some enmeshment in them. We need to be kind to ourselves and deserve balanced self-care. As human beings, we will inevitably mess up and harm others through sins of both commission and omission. I believe we are in constant need of repentance, mercy, grace, and forgiveness. I also believe we are called to love even oppressors. But this does not mean that they should not be sharply confronted about their injustices and called to turn from them and make restitution. And if a choice of love and loyalty is forced, those who care about social justice must always side with the oppressed.
Some of the most important practical ways we can pursue social justice include the following: treating marginalized/oppressed people with love and respect; listening to and learning from them; amplifying their voices; empowering them and their movements; advocating for their rights, needs, identities, and lives; intentionally including them and equitably sharing power/representation with them; educating oneself and others; organizing and networking with others; seeking to change practices in one’s spheres of influence; voting; marching, protesting, and acts of civil disobedience; calling or writing leaders; signing petitions; boycotting; speaking up against harmful/problematic speech and actions; financially supporting individuals and organizations involved in justice work; making and promoting reparation; intentionally remembered harm that was done so as to learn from the past and not repeat it; seeking out ways to withdraw consent and support for oppressive “paths of least resistance” and people’s choices to follow them (including our own); openly supporting others who step off such paths; and openly modeling alternative paths.
Again, the Bible records the use of at least some of these practices and others that seek to confront oppressive systems and promote human well-being on a broader society scale. Some of these practices include laws specifically meant to protect and provide for the vulnerable, prophetic exhortation and critique, symbolic actions, subversive language and stories, active non-violent practices, alternative communities that practiced equality and justice (however imperfectly), individual acts of love and compassion, prophetic re-imagining of a better world, and stubborn hope in God’s justice and God’s just One (Jesus).
Jesus and the early Christians 1) did not have our modern sociological knowledge about things like social construction or systemic oppression (though they show an inchoate awareness of such things); 2) did not live in a democracy or have the degree of power over laws, policies, and structures that we do (as imperfect as ours is as well); 3) in some cases held cultural beliefs and values that modern progressives would disagree with; 4) would have been more pessimistic about the viability of partnering with non-Christians in efforts for justice; and 5) did not expect the world to continue on as long as it has before the eschaton, and so saw less need for long-term, humanly-pursued structural change.
Because of this, they were not approaching justice work in precisely the same way we might today. But their valuation of human beings and tangible needs, wholistic view of salvation, focus on and identity with marginalized/vulnerable people, the application of the logic of their love ethic to a broader societal level, and even Old and New Testament perceptions of collective responsibility for one another and the structural potential for exploitation fit with the values and aims of modern movements for social justice.
That said, the Bible is best understood as giving us general principles concerning justice that must then be applied to a range of very different socio-political situations rather than wooden laws to follow.
Conclusion
In closing, my commitment to love and justice colors how I approach all of my other commitments. Part of the reason I care so much about truth, and evidence and experience as the best way to get at truth, is because I’ve seen how essential these are to loving others well, and how falsehood is consistently connected to harm done to others. Part of the reason I care so much about this (physical) world is because I care about the embodied well-being of others.
I am a theist and a Christian (per later core commitments), but I am even more fundamentally committed to an ethic of love and justice. Such a commitment bounds what I believe about God and Jesus. I view moral transformation in line with such an ethic as a basic sign of true spiritual experience, revelation, and transformation. As an inclusivist, I believe moral transformation (among other things) is more important and a surer sign of God’s work than mere doctrinal accuracy in beliefs. And I think there are evidential and even some Biblical reasons for these judgments.
We simply have more reasons for embracing an ethic of love and justice than we do for any larger spiritual view such as belief in God or Jesus. Most people experience moral sentiments and there is significant agreement around the world on core moral matters. We also have natural, pragmatic reasons to follow such norms. We do not see such universal agreement on spiritual/theological matters, nor are such experiences as common or consistent as moral experience. The Bible itself consistently teaches that we cannot love God without loving other human beings, whom he loves and identifies with. Both Christianity and many other spiritual traditions evaluate putative spiritual experiences in part by the moral fruit they produce.
The central role love plays in my ethics naturally interplays with the centrality of love in my theology. On the one hand, as I indicated, my prior (higher) commitment to an ethic of love means that I would hope that if a God exists, love is at the center of who he is as well. At least all things being equal. To be clear, this does not mean that I should pretend that a loving God exists if I see evidence against such a God or evidence for a capricious god. But evidence for the centrality of love in ethics means that I might reasonably anticipate that the divine Source of ethics might also be animated by love. And it means that my starting presumption is that God is loving and good, apart from evidence to the contrary.
But on the other hand, the inverse is also true. As I will suggest in discussing my next core commitment (to a loving God), I see independent reasons for believing that God is overwhelmingly loving. My belief in and experience of God’s love plays into why love is so central to my ethics. And my transformation into love (modest as it may be) flows out of imitating and being transformed by God’s love. So the influence goes in both directions and is mutually reinforcing.
Because of my empathy for oppressed people and passion for justice, the only God I could whole-heartedly love would have to be a “God of the oppressed” who also cared about justice. And I see reasons for thinking God is actually like that. I have come to see that there is a fundamental difference between a theology that consciously, sacrificially prioritizes justice and one that aligns with Empire as a means to maintain comfort or gain power. For example, there is a fundamental difference between a Christianity that is comfortable with the enslavement of people and one that centers in seeking freedom and equality for enslaved people.
I wholeheartedly cast my lot in with movements, Christian or otherwise, which center on love and justice, and against movements – even self-professed Christian ones – driven by other priorities.
Post-conservative Orphan of God 