SOCIAL JUSTICE CONNECTS US WITH OUR SPIRITUALITY
(Mike Winterfield, Polly Eggers)
I’d like to start by connecting my personal experience with social justice and Unitarian Universalism to a poem which was written by William Blake at the beginning of the Industrial Revolution in the late 1700s. It’s called London. {It’s bleak. But, bear with me.}
I wander through each chartered street,
Near where the chartered Thames does flow.
And mark in every face I meet
Marks of weakness, marks of woe.
In every cry of every man
In every Infant’s cry of fear,
In every voice, in every ban
The mind-forged manacles I hear:
How the chimney-sweepers cry
Every blackening Church appalls,
And the hapless Soldier’s sigh,
Runs in blood down Palace walls.
But most through midnight streets I hear
How the youthful Harlot’s curse
Blasts the new-born Infant’s tear
And blights with plagues the Marriage hearse.
I chose it because there aspects of it that really resonate with me when I think of social justice. So, let me just briefly touch on a few of them.
First, the poem does not describe the suffering of the poor alone. It describes the suffering of everyone, even the soldier who oppresses the poor. (Aside: it’s his sigh running in blood down palace walls.)
And part of this suffering arises from not hearing one another.** The poem is all about sounds – voices, sighs, cries. Bringing to life our need to truly listen.
In EVERY cry of EVERY man
In EVERY Infant’s cry of fear,
In EVERY voice, in EVERY ban
The mind-forged manacles I hear.
Mind-forged manacles. That phrase in particular really touches a chord in me. The manacles – the chains, the barriers we create for ourselves that keep us from hearing, keep us from seeing, and prevent us from doing what we know is right.
When I read this poem, I ask myself, why don’t I hear? These invisible walls that separate us from each other hold fast today. The grip is stronger than ever, only strengthened by our modern technologies. Between our computers, our cubicles, our televisions, our cell-phones – we don’t acknowledge anyone we don’t want to. It’s become all too easy to pretend that the suffering of another person doesn’t touch us. I don’t acknowledge those haunting cries if I don’t want to.
Why don’t I want to? Why don’t I hear? How can I be content when I know deep down there are so many people who have so much less than I do? The reality is that, most of the time, I do feel pretty content, comfortable, complacent. I have a wonderful family, a job, food on the table, a roof over my head, healthcare, even a support system of family and friends who will always be there for me.
And while I have always gotten involved in political campaigns during the election season, my social activism has generally been spearheaded by the themes of the elections, rather than trying to influence the themes of elections. I’ve allowed the debates to be framed for me, rather than the other way around. So, when I ask myself, have I really heard the cries? Really gotten involved? The answer is no, not really.
I think if I did want to break through those invisible walls and connect with the community in a more personal way, I’d have to face some ugly demons inside of myself. My own selfishness. It may be uncomfortable, painful. I’d have to sacrifice something that’s important to me. Becoming involved would take such energy and time. Of course I don’t have enough time. I never have enough time. And, how could I take that away from my family? My children need me. And, I have so little free time as it is. I work outside the home. I wouldn’t know where to begin./ And you know, really, social justice work is for those other people. Why should I give up what I have for someone I don’t even know? (whisp) No one will ever know the difference. {But me.}
And my children. They are the reason I came to Unitarian Universalism. And when I think about my experience at UU— even though it hasn’t been very long-- I realize it is Unitarian Universalism that has opened up a spiritual door that has helped me -- to hear.
The need for economic justice has really come to the fore of my thinking since I became a UU. And this need isn’t determined by election cycles- as I used to think, but by the demands of every-day living – magnified so powerfully in Blake’s poem. The charters of the late 1700s that Blake talks about, the very institutions designed to protect the voices are too often used to oppress them. Not unlike today.
When I make this comparison, my intention is not to connect Unitarian Universalism with any political ideology, but to connect my spirituality with the belief that every person has the right to equal justice and opportunity in the world. (This is at the core of our seven principles.) And the choices I make need to reflect those beliefs in action.
Social justice requires that we live thoughtfully, mindfully. It’s about our everyday acts. Our every day decisions. Since joining UU, I’ve become even more sensitive to the fact that, whether I’m conscious of it or not, every choice I make is a political one. With political consequences. Some of the choices we make effect people in small ways, and some choices have much larger ramifications. When I use organic milk rather than a more conventional variety, makes a difference. Whether I buy coffee at Starbucks or get from a fair trade dealer – has an impact. Wearing cotton or wearing wool has political consequences. The illnesses we contract have political implications, the medicines we take, the cars we drive, the air we breathe, the chairs you’re sitting in –right now- are political. And as we grow into a global society, the political connections we have with one another become all the more powerful with an even greater impact on social and economic justice.
The key to Blake’s poem is that I’m not outside the invisible wall. I’m surrounded by it along with everyone else. We are connected to each other for better or worse. And people are calling for help in many different ways. The challenge is to have the courage to acknowledge that and do something. Together. Only then will we truly be heard.
Mike Winterfield
It is good to be with you this morning. I joined UUS:E in July because you have a real commitment to Social Justice action.
I selected the service title “Social Justice Connects Us With Our Spirituality” to reflect my own evolutionary journey. I would like to briefly share the three phases of my journey:
-- I call my first phase “Responsibility.”
-- I call my second phase “Finding a Personal Passion.”
--My third phase is “Connecting With My Own Spirituality.”
Phase 1 (Responsibility): My initial involvement with Social Justice goes back to the early ‘60s . I first became aware of racial, religious and class discrimination as I grew up in Jersey City in the 1950’s. By the time I graduated from Princeton in 1963, I sensed that there was some “perverse” tie-in with all forms of discrimination and I felt that I had a “responsibility” to do something about it.
I moved to Atlanta after graduation. I was “charged up” with all sorts of liberal do-gooder visions. Martin Luther King, Andrew Young and the Southern Christian Leadership Conference were in high gear. The Lyndon Johnson administration began talking about Model Cities’ transformational programs. So what if the KKK was burning crosses just a few miles away on Stone Moutain! Liberalism would prevail! I helped the Atlanta Jaycees to run a teenage center in the Summerhill ghetto area during my after work hours.
My euphoria did not last. The Summerhill Center became a chore. I felt overwhelmed with one request after another. I got a new actuarial position with an international conglomerate in 1968 and I walked away from my social justice commitments. I rationalized my decision on my job demands.
In retrospect, there was something more fundamental. My intentions were OK, but I was clueless about what I was getting into. A sense of responsibility helped me to get started, but I needed something more to keep on going.
Phase 2 (Finding A Personal Passion): I found something more sustaining in 1975. I was working downtown at The Hartford as the actuary for its annuity business. Everything abruptly changed. I was asked to prepare financial projections to facilitate shutdown of the annuity business. Hundreds of jobs would be eliminated. It didn’t make any sense to me. I found a couple of allies. We would up bucking management and making alternative projections to keep the business going on a scaled down basis. The effort was successful, but I burned bridges in the process. I got a new job with expanded responsibilities in New York City.
This whole experience was a turning point. I put me on a “social justice within the corporation” path that I would follow until I finally left the corporate world in 2003. Speaking out became a passion. I guess it was in my blood. My grandfather had protested taxes in Russia in the early 1900’s.
I found a lot to speak out against. As the years went by, situations kept coming up where management wanted to impress shareholders by reducing staff. I did well fighting off some of this stuff. I was less successful on other fronts. Executive compensation got crazier and crazier. During my final working years at Sun Life in Boston, a few of us offered to share some of our stock options with other employees. Management quickly turned us down.
Nevertheless, I feel good about this whole phase and the successes and the failures along the way. That’s the way it is with any Social Justice cause that is worth fighting for.
Phase 3 (Connecting With My Spirituality): I needed new outlets after I retired in 2003. I became a leader within the Interfaith Coalition for Equity and Justice. I liked the idea of 35 different faith-based congregations working together on systemic change issues. As some of you know, I have been coordinating a statewide petition drive for a Connecticut Earned Income Tax Credit to benefit our lowest income workers.
The issue work has been satisfying, but I have experienced something deeper as well. I have begun to understand that SJ work is a two-way experience. We really can learn from each other!
Our UUS:East anti-racism group has been meeting monthly to discuss “Soul Work” (which is a compilation of nine anti-racism dialogues.) I would like to share some wonderful words from Gary Smith (Senior Minister in Concord) to capture the two-way experience:
“In our unison benediction in Concord, we say, “Strengthen the fainthearted. Support the weak. Help the suffering. Honor all beings.” Indeed. And the strengthening and the supporting and the honoring go both ways. The great lie is that there is a helper and the helped. The great lie is that we have it and they don’t. If the “it” is food and shelter and education, we do have it. If the “it” is love and spiritual depth and faith and kindness, who can tell?”
Gary’s words have deeply moved me. I feel something and I learn something when I “really” see faces and expressions. I feel something and I learn something when I really hear the hopes and the frustrations that others are sharing. It helps me to better understand others and get more in touch with myself as well.
Our ICEJ activities begin with our sharing our individual stories. We do this before we begin our issue work. The storytelling has helped me to integrate my rational thinking and my intuitive and innermost spiritual yearnings. To be candid, I was an intellectual snob about a lot of stuff for most of my life. I fell into the trap of putting an overriding premium on rational analysis. In effect, I wound up treating the intuitive as a “second hand emotion.”
For me, the word intuitive means what I feel most inside. The intuitive connects me with my inner spirit and what I now choose to call God! It has taken me a long time to get to this place. This is a very big statement for a long time agnostic.
Thank you for allowing me to share a little of my journey. As a closing thought, I hope that each of you will find a social justice niche that speaks to who you are and helps you to connect with our larger community. This is a journey worth embarking on!
