That expressed need is what this book represents my attempt to meet: a need to equip laypeople and clergy alike with tools for truth-telling, fostering dialogue, and encouraging engagement with Christian social teaching about work. An integral part of this toolkit is an exploration of all of the benefits that it should confer: dignity, financial security, and a sense of pride in the fruits of one’s own labors.
I have come by the desire and gumption to write this book the long way around. I spent nearly seven years embedded as a pastor in a community that had long relied on labor unions to protect the economic interests of its citizens, only for the unions to be decimated over decades of corporate indifference to the plights of poverty and financial insecurity in the area. Before my tenure as the pastor of First Christian Church in Longview, I lived and studied in the San Francisco Bay Area, which was rocked by the threat of a Bay Area Rapid Transit (BART) workers’ strike in the summer of 2009. And as a boy, I was raised on the lessons of the gains organized workers had made for society by a father who worked as a lawyer for a firm that served Kansas City area labor unions before eventually being appointed as a state appellate judge.
I hope and pray that the passion of a life surrounded by the need for the poor and the workers to labor together for a better world shines through in these pages. I have come to believe that this sort of passion is what is required of the church—and, more broadly, of justice-minded people across the religious spectrum—to meaningfully change the economy we have constructed for ourselves over the past forty-some years in which the wealthy get wealthier while the rest of humanity simply survives—or does not survive.
More than any other experience, witnessing this macrocosmic trend play out on a more microcosmic level over the course of my first decade of parish ministry is what drove me toward God’s lament in Jeremiah 51 of nations toiling for nothing but ashes. I have seen neighbors, siblings in Christ, and congregants turn themselves inside out both for their employers and for more than the crumbs from the table that their employers offered them. I have watched them try to sustain themselves on a diet of ashes, in a home built from ashes, on a salary of little more than ashes.
In the Bible, and during the Christian holiday of Ash Wednesday, ashes are a sign of repentance and humility. In gardening, ash can be a vital component of compost and fertilizer. But as a staple of a human diet, ashes have never been, and will never be, what physically sustains us. More is needed to nourish our God-created bodies. As much as other members of my faith may try to divorce the two for the sake of their own worldviews, Christianity and economics must engage each other when the economy is one that oppresses humanity in exchange for payouts of ashes.
This moral imperative has always existed throughout the church’s history, even as both the church and the economic systems in question have changed dramatically over the course of that history. Understanding our role in that history is a necessary component to creating a better story going forward, and this book represents one tool with which to go about fulfilling that mandate. Integral to that task is an examination of the God-given mandates to pursue economic justice in both the Tanakh (Old Testament or Hebrew Bible) and the New Testament. This examination will cover how the texts might have been understood in their original contexts, interpreted throughout the history of the church, and, finally, imagined as a theological response to today’s twenty-first-century capitalist economy.
This admittedly lofty aim intersects with a few other critical interests, including labor organizing and community activism, and one component of every chapter will be a discussion of potential action steps for pastors and laypeople to consider taking in their own communities. While I write from the vantage point and life experience of a pastor, this book was never designed to be exclusively for the clergy. In the true congregationalist spirit of my Disciples of Christ heritage, I hope that laypeople will co-lead alongside their pastors in this era-defining struggle for the Gospel’s rightful place at the table of economic justice. This is not a clergy issue, and this is not a lay issue. This is a fundamentally human issue for which the Gospel of Jesus Christ has issued a set of blueprints, but we must first be open to what those blueprints would have us build. From that openness to build anew comes the rest: the vision, the decision to act, and the long, but rewarding, work of building for ourselves a better world under God’s guidance.
A brief word about the book’s title: the doing of God’s will on earth as in heaven is one of the seven things asked for in the Lord’s Prayer as preached by Jesus in the Sermon on the Mount. This doing of God’s will on earth is not the sole purview of God, however—we as God’s children are called to proactively strive to follow God’s will for us. As part of this calling, heaven represents a vision or a template for us to follow—that God’s will would be done on earth as it already is being done in heaven. Earth is meant to be modeled on heaven, not the other way around. For heaven to be ordered according to this world, with all of its inequity and inequality, would make it something other than heaven. Instead, our current plane of existence is meant to become more heavenly, which must entail the dismantling of those things which inhibit our flourishing: violence, bigotry, addiction, poverty, and more.
These various attendant evils overlap in their deleterious effects, and necessitate yet another of the Lord’s Prayer’s elements: the deliverance from evil. Yet deliverance from the evil of poverty—and other evils as they intersect with poverty—is something that the church has a historically poor record of, with the idealistic communal sharing of the New Testament church giving way to the socioeconomic hierarchies of the Middle Ages and the colonialism of the Age of Discovery. Even as Christian abolitionists and labor organizers rose up to combat the evils of chattel slavery and economic exploitation in the nascent United States, many more Christians turned to religious arguments to justify and perpetuate both of those systemic sins. Today, the economic disparities that exist—and the ways they intersect with race, age, and other demographic factors—continue to be deeply rooted obstacles that have been calcified into our economy, inhibiting the sort of human flourishing that comes from not having to worry about where the next week of groceries or the money for a prescribed medication will come from. Deliverance from the evil of this sort of deprivation remains urgent for the very people the church is both constituted of and called to serve.
Recognition of how we got here, and of how deep-seated the economic insecurity of our era truly is, defines chapter 1. Only when the parameters of the problem at hand have been defined and investigated can a viable solution be appreciated; the purpose of the subsequent chapters will be to offer multiple lenses as possible solutions. Two steps that are critical to this process are the reclamation of the Bible as a book of economic justice and an honest evaluation of Western Christian history as falling far short of biblical economic justice. Chapters 2 and 3 will outline the blueprints for a divine economy as handed down to us in the Hebrew Bible/Tanakh and the New Testament, respectively. Chapter 4 explores how those blueprints transitioned into actual practice in the church-influenced economies of European countries and their empires of colonies. Chapter 5 studies this transition as it continued into the United States and its chattel-slavery-based economy. The ways in which the church’s historical economic systems influence our contemporary theology may be invisible at first glance, but that makes it all the more important for us to scratch beneath the surface of these commonly held beliefs and understand their origins. Finally, chapters 6 and 7 serve as responses to chapters 4 and 5 by discussing the ways in which our “divine” economies have been intentionally engineered to take from the young, the old, the women, and the people of color, and how we might begin to reengineer an economy that creates genuine equity and equality of opportunity for all.
You will see the titles of most of these chapters make reference to the “divine economy,” which holds a double meaning here: firstly, there exists the divine economy as it may exist in the imaginations of the prophets and Jesus of Nazareth when they spoke out on behalf of the poor and oppressed. And