The Hell with Thoughts and Prayers; Do Some Wor

We are in the middle of an undeclared war.

(Click “like” and share if you want world peace.)

There have been 255 mass shootings in the US so far this year. More shootings than there are days. The last two (at this writing) were 12 hours apart.

(@MahatmaGhandi just tweeted “Humanism is patriotism, the majority of humans do not support war yet it proceeds against our say.” I better retweet that right now; it sounds so deep.)

#stopwar #givepeaceachance #justiceforall

(ISIS says if they get 1 million likes on Facebook they will stop bombing Syria. Click like today!)

“I’m praying for peace.”

“The shooting victims have my thoughts and prayers.” 

You know what? Why don’t you stop thinking and praying and actually do something? No, really. God heard you- they want you to get off your ass. Really.

I’ll be the first one to admit that I use social media daily. I post about peace, and justice. I click like and share on other people’s stories of social justice work. Sometimes I pray to the God of my understanding to stop the violence and the hatred.

I can do all these things without ever stepping away from my computer or my phone. It’s amazing- I can dial in social justice.

And praying and liking and clicking and tweeting are often good ways to get information across and to slowly change perceptions.

But you don’t tweet to increase understanding of the dangers of fire when YOUR ACTUAL HOUSE IS ON FIRE AND YOU ARE SITTING IN IT.

Let me tell you a not-secret. Our house is on fire, infested with bees which are also on fire, and sitting on a pad made of lava.

The walls are falling in. The foundation is cracked. Our government has been sold to the highest bidder. There are weapons of war in our streets.

The work of the peace maker, the work of the justice seeker, our work, is to do more, to put out the fire, to rebuild soundly, and that job can look overwhelming, but it is ours to do.

I know it looks too tough. I know it does.

When the mountains are too high, and our equipment too poor, it is easy to stop climbing. When the goals are too large, and the rewards too removed from our own lives, we back away, break down, and grind to a halt.

We see this principle in action around social justice activism. It wears a variety of faces and it exhibits itself as a variety of other ethics.

“I know we need to fix it, but it’s too big. It’s taken on a life of its own. I don’t have time to tackle a project of that magnitude. I work, and there’s the kids… You don’t need me- you need activists, you know, people who do this right. Spend time working on it and whatnot.”

In other words, “I’ve got a job, a home, a life. I’m okay. Why should I risk what I have, to get something for someone else? I work hard, let me enjoy it ‘cause, honestly, that shit looks scary.”

White people, I’m talking to you.

Or how about this one: “I am just so impressed with those social justice folks. I could never do what they do. It takes a special kind of person to get things done like that, someone like Jesus, or Buddha, or those people you see on TV giving kids in Africa gruel while they play in garbage. I just admire them so much (not so much the gruel people but you know what I mean.) Those people are just living saints, like that short little woman (not Doctor Ruth but the other one), that Mother Theresa and all the work she did in Australia or New Zealand or China or wherever she was with all those little skinny people and buses.”

This is an ethic of discipleship- an ethic that says “It will take a messiah, a great teacher of some kind, to fix so great a problem- and I am not a great teacher, so I will wait right here until one comes and then I will follow him or her. They will show me how to clean the big mess up, and until they come, I am off the hook.”

I got news for you. They ain’t coming. Saddle up. Someone else just got shot.

Perhaps worse is an ethic of despair. “I could just cry over how terrible this all is- I mean, it would take 100 life-times to fix it ‘cause it is just so broken. There’s nothing that I could ever do that would impact this mess- someone smarter than me has to come up with a plan and maybe that will make sense to me and I can think about some ways that I could help.”

This ethic just basically says “I’m not even willing to try.”

You’ll be willing when it’s your kid. Or your brother. Or your mom. Avoid the rush, start now. Still waiting for you to get on that saddle.

None of these ethics allow anything much to get done. They are reasons to quit without really trying.

So what ethic does work? What calls us all to do the work of healing the world, without quitting when we see how large the problems really are?

Guilt may work briefly. If you have children, or possibly if you remember your own childhood,  you may know how this goes:

“Don’t you feel bad about what’s happened? Don’t you want to do something about it? Look at your brother over there crying- if you don’t share your cookies with him right this minute you are just as bad as the kid who stole his bike. In fact, you’re worse because you could make him feel better right now and you just don’t want to.”

If someone really wants to make you feel rotten, they may even bring up Martin Niemoeller, and quote at you his famous poem:

First they came for the communists,

and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a communist.

Then they came for the socialists,

and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a socialist.

Then they came for the trade unionists,

and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a trade unionist.

Then they came for the Jews,

and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Jew.

Then they came for the Catholics,

and I didn't speak out because I wasn't a Catholic.

Then they came for me,

and there was no one left to speak for me.

We all know guilt works, at least for a while, but most of the time it is misplaced guilt. Guilt should be for those things you have actually done wrong, for those times you should be ashamed of yourself. Guilt is one of the indicators that lets us heal wounds we have created. It works with our personal actions, things we are responsible for.

There is nothing to feel guilty about when you are not responsible for the action. I don’t feel guilty about 9-11, or police shootings, or the bombing in Syria. Normal guilt calls me to act when I have caused hurt, or directly allowed hurt to happen through my lack of action. It does not motivate for long when we did not cause the pain.

If we are truly acting out of loving compassion for other humans, out of the Buddha’s enlightened all-encompassing love, out of the Christian Agape, or unconditional love, then we are called to engage in social activism from an ethic of risk.

So what is an ethic of risk?

An ethic of risk says that there are too many variables in any complex situation to really be sure what the outcome of our actions will be. Two people getting married embrace an ethic of risk and uncertainty whether they know it or not- they cannot know that their decision to have a formal ceremony will cause them to live happily ever after. That goal is too big, too far away to make any real connection. What they can know is that is pleases them both today, and may, MAY position them to live together well. They do it because it is a positive step- the process becomes the point.

If we are talking about social justice work, we often do things to make other things happen. We protest to gain marriage equality, we teach farming to end world hunger, we give up eating meat to promote animal welfare.

Climb the mountain until you reach a place to camp- don’t insist on reaching the summit today.

Admit that the big goal may or may not be reachable by doing what you are doing, so just do what is right in the immediate situation.

If we look back at the other ethics I mentioned, you can see why they make it almost impossible to make gains in some areas.

“I will save the world by doing everything right, and if it isn’t all done the right way I quit!”

Take a chance, accept the small wins, do what is right when you can and when you can’t, work to make it possible to do what is right.

“That’s too big for me – you need special people for that.”

No we don’t. It begins here. It begins now. It begins with you.

“I’m waiting for the Great Leader to arrive.”

They called- they’re not coming. It’s on you.

“It just makes me want to cry. I’m not able to handle this.”

Yes, you are. Blow your nose,

 and get started.

“I’m afraid.”

We all are. Hold my hand and we’ll go together.

Embrace an ethic of risk. Do what is right in front of you. Begin today. Do it because it is the right thing to do, not in expectation of a grand and glorious eventual worldwide outcome.

Impact your house, your block, your school. These problems took generations to create- you will not fix them by Wednesday, but you may fix a piece, that leads to another piece, that begins a cascade, that fixes it in ten years or twenty or a hundred.

You may fix the piece that ends the killing.

Hold one person close to your heart and dry their tears. Do it today.

VOTE.

Organize.

Rally.

Legislate.

Attend one protest.

Do it today.

Take the risk.

Human hands. Human hearts, human lives.

One risk at a time.

God called- they aren’t coming today. It’s on you.

Celebrate peacemaking.

-Rev. Amy Petrie Shaw