So We're an Urban Church - So What?
Reverend Dr. Marilyn Sewell
First Unitarian Church
Portland, Oregon
September 14, 1997
"A government which robs Peter to pay Paul can always depend on the support of Paul."
--George Bernard Shaw
In the past week, we’ve witnessed the funerals of two highly visible figures, a study in contrasts in some ways—a princess in designer gowns and a saintly nun, in the humble robes of her order. And yet it was interesting that when the words of remembrance were spoken, these two women were recalled by the concerns of their hearts. And that’s the way it always is at funerals. Friends and family don’t say, "He really knew how to make a buck!" Or even, "She was brilliant!" No, people are more likely to say, "She was there when I needed her" or a grown child might say, "He read to me every night before I went to sleep." People are remembered "by heart," one might say.
Even as we buried these two well-known figures, time was moving on in its inexorable way: thousands upon thousands of others were being born and dying. Some of those who died were of high rank and position, and others were the poorest of the poor. Like Sarah, for example, Sarah who died some winters ago in Chicago. Unitarian Universalist minister Susan Starr, who was working with the urban poor, tells Sarah’s story.
Sarah died in a dumpster in Chicago. Unable or perhaps unwilling to find a shelter, she had crawled into the trash receptacle outside the local McDonald’s and had frozen to death during a particularly bitter winter night. Those who knew her—shelter residents, street people, various social workers and church volunteers—were shocked, angry. Sarah’s homeless brothers and sisters organized a funeral service, and it turned out to be quite a media event. Cameras rolling during the entire service, newspaper reporters interviewing anyone and everyone. At one point in the service, people were invited to come forward and speak of Sarah, of what was in their hearts that day. A man who almost never spoke to anyone came forward. He stood with his head bowed, tears falling on his face. He did not speak. The mourners became embarrassed, uncomfortable, anxious about how to continue with the service. Finally, Susan walked up to him, put her arm around his shoulders, and said, "Was there something you wanted to say?" He answered, "Yes . . . but I forgot what it was—something about love."
That’s what I’m trying to do today, my friends. In my own way, I’m trying to say something about love.
You see, the Sarahs of the world and her friends on the street are increasing in number. It is not a great mystery why the poor are without shelter. It has to do with how we divide up the resources in this country. Since the 1970’s there has been a lot of talk about reducing government. That’s misleading. We’re not reducing government, we’re shifting its resources and influence. AFDC, the main support system for poor families, was cut virtually in half from about 1970 to 1990. Almost 40% of the people on our streets now include women and children. On the other hand, "wealthfare" has increased, as corporations exert more and more control over our lives and our work through their tremendous political influence. Who bailed out the S & L’s? We did. Who bailed out Goldman, Sachs when the Mexican economy went belly-up? We did. So we talk of the "free market," but the truth is that the taxpayer—you and I—give enormous subsidies to corporations. For a current example, you need look no further than your Sunday "Oregonian." The Bonneville Power Agency cut a deal with lobbyists and politicians, resulting in a savings of $447,000 for a couple of aluminum companies—but that cost will be passed on to residential consumers like you and me. We will be subsidizing these aluminum companies.
And then there is the Pentagon. Our war machine is still at Cold War levels. And what does that mean, in real human terms? Let me share with you some trade-offs. For one high-explosive shell, we can have 460 meals for the homeless. For 800 Army multiple-launch rockets, we can provide lunch for all the poor schoolchildren in New York City. For one Marine amphibious assault ship, we can provide housing subsidies for the elderly and the disabled. We’re talking about choices. Just as you and I choose what we do with out personal budgets, so does our government make choices. And right now the people who are pouring big money into our political campaigns are calling the shots. The governments of some countries are corrupted by the military. Other governments are controlled by religious movements. Our government is corrupted by the extraordinary power of corporate wealth. Now you may say, "But wait! We are a prosperous country. And that is due to our strong economy and the efficiency of our corporations." Prosperous? Well, some of us are. But tell that to the Sarahs of the world. To the men whose jobs have gone to Third World countries where labor is cheaper. Or to the 20 per cent of children in this prosperous country who live in poverty, who have schools that are crumbling, who have no hope for any future. We are sadly mistaken if we believe that we can take care of ourselves and disregard those who are struggling to survive. As writer Mary Pipher put it so well, "Thinking that you can save your family alone is like going first class on the Titanic."
I have been very much concerned about the passage of the Welfare Reform Bill. Having labored as a social worker, I believe the system needs reform, but I despair at the turn that "reform" has taken. One hears glowing reports in the media about how many people are now off the welfare rolls. But the real question is, what is happening to those people? We have a few studies that are coming in, but we don’t know much yet. We do know that a significant minority have lost their only source of income. We know that states have had problems matching recipients with appropriate employers. Some former welfare recipients have been able to secure jobs. I wonder how many of those jobs pay enough for a family to live on? How many of those jobs lend any hope for the future? And what about those who cannot find jobs? Will there be sufficient job training? Will there be child care? These are questions that remain to be answered. Suffice it to say, though, that welfare reform--if it really is meant to bring people into the work force--will be much more expensive than the old system. The question is, are we willing to pay for it—or are we willing to just discard people who can’t cope in the present economic system.
Let’s look at what’s happening in our city of Portland since welfare reform. Lynn Knox, who is with the Bureau of Housing and Community Development in Portland, reports that caseworkers under "welfare reform" are scrambling to become "overnight experts" in all areas of social support, as they try to minimize the impact of the reforms. The largest group of recipients is single mothers, who will now receive only temporary help. The next largest group is referred to as "single able-bodied adults." These people previously received food stamps and general assistance. Most are homeless. Now they will receive 3 months of food stamps. Many of them are not capable of holding a job, says Lynn. Exemptions are allowed, on a case by case basis.
Lynn has concerns about hunger. She reports that local soup kitchens have seen a 50 per cent increase in demand since April 1. This is "scaring the Food Bank to death." Oregon has lost $45,000,000 in Federal money for food stamps, and no one knows how all these hungry people will be fed. Incidentally, the Oregon Food Bank reports that 42 per cent of household members receiving emergency food are under the age of 18. We’re talking about hungry children here. The median range of annual income from all sources for these families receiving aid is $5,000 to $7,000. You can’t even live on that in Mississippi, much less Portland, Oregon!
Kathy Oliver, Director of Outside In, an agency to help runaway teens here on our church property, agrees that her greatest concern is food. Before welfare reform food stamps were available to kids under 21. Now all kids over 17 have only 3 months of food stamps out of every 36 months. Outside In is allocating more of its operating funds to food, but they can only budget $15,000 for food for the expected 1,000 kids they expect to serve this year. Why are these kids on the street, in the first place? The statistics Kathy gave were telling: only 25 per cent have finished high school; 25-30 per cent are gay or lesbian or bisexual or unsure; 81 per cent have biological parents who are separated or divorced; 64 per cent are children of substance abusers; 74 per cent have had problems with alcohol or drugs; 40-50 per cent of the young women have been pregnant; 43 per cent have attempted suicide.
So what does all this mean to us, as an urban church? It means that we are right in the middle of these human troubles, and the consequences of our political decisions are quite literally on our doorsteps. We cannot turn away. For the sake of our own souls. For the sake of our own souls? Yes. You see, saving the world is really not an option. It never has been. It never will be. But we need to be responsible to the best we know, and we need to contribute to the good as we are led to do so.
Tony Larsen, UU minister in Racine, Wisconsin, tells the story of attending a Catholic mass which included the so-called "kiss of peace"—that’s the part where you turn to your neighbor and shake hands and say, "May the peace of Christ be with you." As Tony turned to put out his hand, someone took it and said, "May the unrest of Christ be with you." Sometimes we think that our most "spiritual" moments are those of peace and bliss. But perhaps our most profound religious feelings emerge when we are full of rage about injustice, or hurting about the pain of the stranger. May the unrest of the Hebrew prophets be among you. May the unrest of Malcolm X be among you. May the unrest of Susan B. Anthony be among you. May the unrest of Mother Teresa be among you. I don’t mean the kind of unrest which leads you to nod your head during the sermon and say, yes, that’s the way it is, too bad. I mean the kind of unrest that challenges you to do something different, to say, "I just have to do something. I can’t do everything, but I am going to do something."
Our church has a number of social justice action groups that are ready to go this year. I invite you to visit our parish hall after the service today and sign up to help with one of those groups. Or don’t sign up with a group. Maybe you’re not ready to take a step that large. Maybe you just want to help the kids at Outside In by giving the agency money for a few lunches. Or by collecting those little bars of soap and containers of shampoo that you get when you stay in a hotel and giving them to Outside In. The kids would appreciate these, Kathy Oliver says.
And then there’s the larger question of why some of us get to go on trips and stay in hotels and others of us are on the street. Is it just because some of us are hard-working and others are lazy and irresponsible, as some would have us think? No, there are powerful political and social and economic forces which largely determine the fate of so many. So you could join others who are working to make systemic change. Our social justice work needs to move more in this direction, I believe. Yes, we need direct service—soup kitchens and bars of soap. But as our eyes are opened to the suffering around us, we are led to ask, "Why?" and to address questions about power and who wields it and to whose benefit. As Paolo Freire said, "Washing one’s hands of the conflict between the powerful and the powerless means to side with the powerful, not to be neutral."
Speaking of power and corporations, I would guess that many of us have at least some money in investments, perhaps in mutual funds. The profits from companies go into the hands of stockholders, and though most of us are not wealthy, we have benefited from the strong stock market of recent years. Think about where your money is invested. Is it in socially responsible companies or funds? We’re not looking for purity here, because purity is impossible, both in our personal as well as in our financial lives, but we can discern some differences and make some ethical decisions about what our money is supporting and where our profits are coming from. Invest in those companies that have as part of their mission to care for the environment and to treat their workers justly. If you want to know more about making such decisions, we’ll be offering a course this winter in our adult education program.
Another idea. Our state legislature has served up the worst decision of the century in deciding to return excess tax money, or a "kicker," to the taxpayers in December. How can this money be considered "excess" when our schools are hurting and when so many people are in need of food? It’s more than a little ironical that we’ll be receiving these checks just before Christmas, a time when we are celebrating the birth of Jesus, who above all else cared for the poor and disenfranchised. I invite all of you who are able to join me on "Kicker Sunday" in December and send a check in the amount of your "kicker" to some worthy cause in Oregon and then write your representatives and tell them what you have done and why.
Maybe we as a church have to decide whether we are a queen or a servant. Certainly we can have grand and glorious celebrations, with organ and trumpet, and surely we can surround ourselves with beauty and order. But what are we about? What are we about? I hope we are about spiritual deepening, and if we are, that spiritual deepening will lead us to transformation, both of ourselves and of our society. We will become servants each day of the best that we know, and our lives will not be our own. It’s not that giving will be required of us—it’s that giving will become our greatest joy. We’ll not be guided by guilt—we’ll be compelled by compassion.
If you choose to know God, you will enter into your fear. The journey may break your heart open. But then in all of your brokenness, you’ll find that it’s not the world that needs saving—it’s you. And you will find that at the core, at the very core of your being, is love. It’s the same love that is at the heart of the universe, and when you touch into it, you’ll know true freedom for the first time.
So be it. Amen.
Copyright © 2000, Reverend Dr. Marilyn Sewell. All rights reserved.