Moving from Remembrance to Building the Future

On the day of the September 11, 2001 attacks our youngest son, Andrew, who was 15 at the time asked us, “Will this change our lives?”  While we wanted to say, “No,” we understood that we had entered a new era of uncertainty.

Last Sunday, on the tenth anniversary of that fateful day, my wife and I participated in the launch of the Richmond Faith Forum at St Paul’s Episcopal Church, where we have been members since coming to Richmond thirty years ago. The forum’s mission, says Rev. Wallace Adams-Riley, is to “live, laugh, and learn together.”  

Richmond is fortunate that relationships between faith groups have withstood the test of the pressure of world events over several decades. In 2001, faith leaders claimed unity and many people in the Richmond region reached out to support the Muslim community.  A group of Muslims and evangelical Christians have sustained a dialogue over several years. It’s not unusual for Christians, Buddhists, and Muslims, to join Jews at a Seder table for a Passover meal, hosted by a conservative synagogue.

Sunday’s forum featured the voices of youth – beginning with a video of  ten-year-olds of all backgrounds talking about the kind of world they want to see.  Their comments were practical and insightful: treat other with respect; work out your differences; be prepared to compromise; stand up for someone who is being picked on – because it’s the right thing to do.

They were followed by three university students who recalled their memories of 2001, how it had impacted their lives, and their sense of responsibility for the future. “I want to do something to help change the world,” said one.

Imad Damaj, from the Virginia Muslim Coalition for Public Affairs, told how several years ago he had called Glenn Proctor, the news editor of the Richmond Times-Dispatch to express his unhappiness at the way the newspaper was presenting the Muslim community. Proctor invited Imad to meet with him. Imad said, “I will come, but I am not coming alone," and took a representative team to the meeting. That honest conversation, said Imad, “marked a change in the relationship with the newspaper.”

Tom Silvestri, president and publisher of the Times-Dispatch underscored the power of hope and optimism, and encouraged everyone to get to know their neighbors.  An interfaith panel of area clergy engaged in discussion with the audience. Rev. Jim Somerville of First Baptist Church sat between Rabbi Ben Romer of Congregation Or Ami and Imam Ammar Amonette of the Islamic Center of Virginia. Said Somerville: “We’ve shared meals together. I bump into the Imam sometimes when I’m out jogging. I see Ben at the Jewish Community Center where I work out. It feels like a friendship is growing between us, and that’s remarkable for a Baptist minister.”

Sunday was a good day to be in Richmond and to feel the strength of this community.

The Revolution We Need

I write this from Cape Cod with the winds of Irene rattling the house.

On the way from Richmond last week, Susan and I visited the “Breakers,” the seventy-room summer "cottage" built in 1892 by the Vanderbilts in Newport, Rhode Island. The end of the Gilded Age, symbolized by such remarkable monuments to wealth and power and to a grand vision of America, was hastened by the introduction of personal income tax (the Sixteenth Amendment) under Taft's Republican White House in 1913.

His predecessor and fellow Republican, Teddy Roosevelt, challenged the financial and industrial barons with his antitrust actions. He promised a “square deal” for all Americans and in industrial negotiations he treated union leaders as equals with industry bosses. This trend towards greater equity in society continued through the 1960s.

Driving north we listened to commentaries on the Martin Luther King, Jr. memorial in Washington. Irene forced postponement the dedication. But the memorial is already provoking conversation about what King might have said about America today. He died as he was launching a Poor People’s Campaign. Surely he would have been shocked and outraged to find a country growing ever more unequal. More than one in five children lives in poverty, the highest rate in two decades.  This is an appalling statistic for the wealthiest country on earth.

But today even talking about disparity provokes accusations of promoting class war. Warren Buffet is called a “socialist” for daring to suggest that people like himself might pay a fair share of taxes.  In the Orwellian-speak of today the “wealthy” must now be termed “job creators.” People receiving welfare are described by right-wing talk show commentators as “parasites,” “moochers,” and “irresponsible animals.”

Where did we develop this disdain for those in poverty? Barbara Ehrenreich, author of Nickel and Dime, reminds us that the working poor are the nation’s true philanthropists: they make it possible for the rest of us to live comfortably. There’s a case to be made that our whole economic system depends on paying people less than what they are worth.  

So far, America has avoided the violent upheavals experienced by several European countries. But we cannot assume that people who are being pushed to their limit will forever remain docile.

We need a revolution of unselfishness. Here’s a great example: the Fresno, California School Superintendent, Larry Powell, has just announced that he will take a pay cut – reducing his annual salary from $250,000 to $31,000. Fresno has extremes of wealth and poverty, and with schools facing painful budget choices, “My wife and I thought, what can we do that might help change the dynamic in my particular area?” Powell told ABC News.   

This kind of revolutionary unselfishness is needed more urgently now than ever.

What to do with our anger?

I was pleasantly surprised by Joe Nocera’s column in the New York Times on August 22.  He apologized. In an earlier column he had compared Tea Party Republicans to terrorists.

Like many of us, Nocera was outraged that those who precipitated the financial crisis are not being prosecuted more vigorously; by the attempts to undermine the Dodd-Frank financial sector reform law; and by the attacks on Elisabeth Warren as she tried to set up the Consumer Financial Protection Bureau. The final straw was the political brinksmanship over the debt ceiling.

While not backing away from his convictions, Nocera had the grace to apologize for his “intemperate” remarks and to promise that he will refrain from “calling anybody names” in the future.

I share Nocera’s outrage. I’m mad as hell at the damage done by the greed of the banks and that those who were negligent and incompetent in overseeing Wall Street are now lecturing us on credit ratings. And I’m most angry that the poorest and most vulnerable are paying the price for the greed of the rich and powerful.

What do we do with our anger? Experience shows that simply venting our emotions and naming enemies may make us feel better but rarely leads to productive change. 

However much I may deplore their politics, I am certain that most Tea Party activists are true patriots who want the best for this country. Some of them may be misguided idealists, but it’s not for me to question their integrity.  

I once heard William Raspberry, a columnist with the Washington Post, tell a group of community activists that a focus on enemies “diverts time and energy from the search for solutions.”  It’s important to ask ourselves, “If I defeat the enemy in the battle I have engaged, will my problem be nearer to a solution? People respond more favorably to being approaches as potential allies.” 

Approaching enemies as allies. This seems to be the great challenge of our time. Because increasingly in today’s complex and interrelated world we cannot solve our biggest problems without some measure of collaboration and trust with those with whom we disagree.      

Collie and Audrey Burton, two activists in the African American community in Richmond, Virginia, had the courage to build a friendship and then a partnership with Howe Todd, the senior assistant city manager, a white man with whom Collie had clashed on public policy issues and whom they suspected of racial bias. That relationship, and Todd’s new willingness to listen to others in the community, sent ripples though the city and led to countless unexpected partnerships across racial and political lines and to what we now know as Hope in the Cities.  

In 1996, Initiatives of Change convened leaders from opposite ends of the political spectrum for an “honest conversation” on race and to launch A Call to Community at the National Press Club. Blacks, whites, Jews, Muslims, Christians, Republicans, and Democrats sat and talked. They had different views about the appropriate role of government, the efficacy of affirmative action plans, even about the nature of the problem itself. But they were united in the belief that through honest conversation, a healing for the nation might begin.

A Call to Community, which was endorsed by mayors across the country, by members of congress from both parties, by leaders of different faiths and national civil rights organizations, concluded with a seven-point framework for partnership and responsibility. It proposed: 

• Listening carefully and respectfully to each other and to the whole community
• Bringing people together, not in confrontation but in trust, to tackle the most urgent needs of the community
• Searching for solutions, focusing on what is right rather than who is right.
• Building lasting relationships outside our comfort zone.
• Honoring each person, appealing to the best qualities in everyone, and refusing to stereotype the other group
• Holding ourselves, communities and institutions accountable in areas where change is needed.
• Recognizing that the energy for fundamental change requires a moral and spiritual transformation in the human spirit.

Suppose our elected leaders – and those of us who elect them – used these points as benchmarks for our daily interactions. Could it lead to some unexpected and creative steps that would move the country forward?  

A Theology for Radicals

I’m reflecting on some of the “disconnects” in American life. One is the glaring gap between personal faith and public policy.  How is it possible that the most overtly religious nation in the developed world has the greatest gulf between rich and poor? Why does a country with so many churches imprison more of its people than anywhere else on earth (and still insist on inflicting the death penalty)? What is our justification for resisting universal health care?    

Americans are among the most generous people on earth. They are also highly practical and love problem solving. Given accurate information they usually want to do the right thing.

But because our social lives are so separate (our places of worship, schools, and neighborhoods are often defined by race or class), we build up images of fellow Americans that are prejudiced or inaccurate at best. Our information sources are increasingly narrowly based and tend to reinforce our existing biases. They don’t challenge us to think beyond our own experience or viewpoint.

So a person who volunteers time and talent to helping earthquake victims in Haiti, or building churches or schools in Central America, or who fosters a dozen children, may also advocate public policies in their home town that deny education to immigrant children, reduce access to health care for those who can least afford it, or cut mass transportation to suburbs where most available entry-level jobs are located.   

A few days ago I was sitting with Ben Campbell of the Richmond Hill Retreat Center and some other local Christian leaders discussing urban ministry. Ben reckons that ninety percent of new churches in the Richmond region are non-denominational. There’s a growing interest in urban ministry among committed evangelicals in these flourishing new congregations in the ever-expanding suburban areas. This is a potentially powerful force for good. 

However, Campbell says that for the most part these dedicated, mostly young Christians have no knowledge of social issues or the history of racism and exclusion, no understanding of tax policies, or of the factors that impact housing, public education, and transportation. 

At the other end of the spectrum, many mainline liberal churches are actively engaged in social issues but have lost focus on core moral and spiritual truths. They are not providing an environment that is attractive to a new generation of Christians. In addition, failure to root social justice efforts in the bedrock of a strong inner life and lived-out values can endanger the most idealistic efforts. 

In The Beloved Community, Charles Marsh calls burnout “the activist’s occupational hazard.”  He points to the early days of the Student Nonviolent Coordinating Committee (SNCC ) when, starting in 1960, thousands of white students came to the South to work for reconciliation and justice alongside African Americans. The movement, he writes, pursued a form of discipleship that was “life affirming, socially transformative, and existentially demanding: a theology for radicals.”  Resisting the “cultural paradigm of efficiency," it made time for “reverie and solitude and for rituals that were refreshingly unproductive. A certain kind of contemplative discipline was an important disposition in building community and enabling trust.” 

What would America look like if mainline liberal Christians deepened their spiritual lives and their moral accountability, and if conservative evangelicals committed themselves to a strategic engagement for justice?  We might see a theology for radicals that could lead to a profound transformation of the social and economic landscape.   

Trust in Investing

If you are feeling cynical about the world of finance and investment you should talk with Patrick Davis.  He’s a 25-year-old senior associate with the Calvert Foundation, a Washington-based non-profit that aims to maximize the flow of capital to disadvantaged communities. The organization enables investors – large and small – to earn a financial return while lifting families out of poverty.

Patrick’s enthusiasm is infectious. He believes we need to fundamentally rethink our relationship to money and to simultaneously build a new economy on the principles of sustainability and social equity.  And he thinks the time is ripe for such a revolution. He says investors are seeing the writing on the wall: “Unless we address environmental degradation, unemployment, and the education gap, even the most powerful corporations will have no customers.”

Long before the Bernie Madoff scandal and other Ponzi schemes made headlines there has been a structural disconnect in our economy that reinforces a disproportionate distribution of wealth. Patrick believes that the focus on short-term returns in the corporate and financial sectors has “produced a broken economy built on perpetual distrust and resentment.” 

Over a sandwich at Potbelly near his Bethesda, Maryland office, he told me, “We need to talk about the larger ecosystem, get away from quarter-to-quarter earnings and think about sustainability.” With degrees in Economics, Government & Politics, and a minor in Latin American Studies, Patrick was looking for a middle ground between wealth management and non-profits. The Calvert Foundation, which offers an alternative to traditional philanthropy or strictly market-based investing, was the perfect fit. 

According to its website, Calvert investors have put nearly $200 million to work in 250 community organizations in all 50 states and over 100 countries. These investors are supporting a diversified mix of high-impact organizations involved in affordable housing, microfinance, Fair Trade coffee, small business development, as well as charter schools, daycare centers and rehabilitation clinics.  Investors and supporters have helped build or rehabilitate over 17,000 homes, create 430,000 jobs in the U.S. and in developing countries, and finance over 25,000 cooperatives, social enterprises, and community facilities.

Last year, Patrick spent two weeks helping with the rebuilding efforts in Haiti. It was, he says, a life-changing experience.

Now he’s planning a workshop in October, as part of The Trust Factor 2011 program in Washington, to spread the word about “impact investing” to a lay audience. This approach produces “blended value – financial, social, and environmental returns.”  Patrick wants to demonstrate the role of “trustbuilding amongst financial advisors and clients, trustbuilding in local communities, and broadly a restoration of trust in the economy for the public.”

My guess is that there are thousands of talented people of Patrick’s generation who share his passion for a new vision in the financial sector where returns are “built on real assets that are visible in the community, rather than inflated bookkeeping and complicated financial arrangements.”  

And that makes me feel a whole lot more hopeful about the future.