Editor’s Note
The following address was delivered on April 28, 2001 to the Episcopal Diocese of Ohio’s Jubilee Day 2001 conference, held at St. Paul’s Episcopal Church in Akron, Ohio

I was so grateful to receive your invitation for today because having traveled to Israel and Palestine twice in the last few months, I am aware of both the promise of Jubilee and of promises unfulfilled. Jubilee 2000 has given us all a chance to reflect upon the idea of a world that would be ruled by justice and compassion rather than by powers and principalities.

The Jubilee observance in our Church has given us an opportunity to reflect upon liberation and what that word means for our times. Jubilee is an invitation, never realized in Scripture, that invites us in this moment in history to cancel debts, level the playing field between the haves and have-nots, and to take a respite from our use of the world’s resources. Our Church has successfully championed debt cancellation among the poorest nations. There is more to do, but our success so far gives us energy to continue the task and to see that justice can and does prevail. And we are engaging the complex issue of globalization that threatens to exploit the poor while making the rich ever richer.

It is wrong that our country exports jobs overseas so that corporations can pay substandard wages and exploit the environment. Globalization may be good for some, but it is not promoting economic justice. And we are surely in a time when our plundering of the earth’s resources at the expense of global warming and other potential catastrophes gives us much to pause about. So a time of Jubilee is as much or more a necessity for these times as they were in the times when the book of Leviticus was written.

The role of the Church in American life is that of a voice of conscience. We are called to hold up a vision of the world that mirrors the reign of God. That is really our mission. Sometimes we get side tracked by thinking that our task is to grow the Church. Indeed, we may want to do that, but it is not the end product. The salvation that Jesus offers is for all the world, not just the Church. So our stewardship is on behalf of all creation and that means holding our public officials accountable across party lines.

As we see the Jubilee vision for these times, I must share with you my discomfort in seeing environmental standards being relaxed by the new Administration. I was pleased to see that our Presiding Bishop challenged President Bush in a letter delivered on Earth Day last week. In it he wrote:

I believe these words reflect the Jubilee principles I referred to earlier and that they fulfill our obligation to speak to those in power.

I am deeply concerned that our Justice Department may pursue policies in the civil rights arena that are exclusive rather than inclusive. There is so much hate and prejudice alive in various communities around the country. We need public servants who will be vigilant in upholding the civil rights of all people.

So as we gather today to reflect on the theme of Jubilee, I want to encourage you to be active in your community on behalf of issues of justice and peace, not just because you are a good citizen, but because we are called to make such a witness in our baptismal vows. Our works of salvation in the world are the journey we take towards fulfilling the mission of the Church. Our witness is not an option relegated to a small church committee. The task is for all the faithful and I’m delighted to see so many of you responding to that call.

In particular today, I want to honor in my remarks two people of remarkable character and strength, two people who never met each other but whose lives became inextricably intertwined. I speak of Mordechai Vanunu and Samuel Day. And as I talk of them and their witness, I invite you to reflect on God’s call to you and what your particular witness might be in the spirit of Jubilee.

Some of you may not be aware of Sam’s ministry or of his death a few months ago. He was the leader of the Free Mordechai Vanunu campaign in the USA. When I was with him in Tel Aviv in 1996 to participate in an international conference on Mordechai’s imprisonment, I found him to be such a gentle soul in his exterior coupled with a determined inner spirit that had the strength of iron. He was challenged by a number of physical ailments over the years, not the least of which was his acquired blindness. All that notwithstanding, his courage and his faith never wavered. In fact, I remember that he spent time in jail a few years ago for acts of civil disobedience and that he had endured incredible hardships and threats to his well being. Few of us have that kind of courage and commitment even in good health. Sam was a living saint then and he is a living saint now. Please join me for a moment of silent thanksgiving for his life and witness among us.

Thank you.

Sam worked tirelessly for the release of Mordechai Vanunu. And to Sam’s memory I offer the following Jubilee reflections on Mordechai’s extraordinary witness. I have three perspectives to share, first as a member of the human family, second as a Christian, and third as a woman, wife and mother. These are in no particular order of priority, but together they define who I am as a person.

First, as I think of the world in which we live with all its diverse cultures and belief systems, the most common thing that binds us together is simply that we are human beings, belonging to one human family. That diversity is something to celebrate, and the world will be a more healthy place when we view ourselves as one human race. I may belong to one ethnic group, but I am first part of one human family.

From this perspective, different human beings will argue about the status of Mordechai Vanunu. Some will say he is a criminal, others that he is a political prisoner, and others that he is a prisoner-of-conscience. The Israeli authorities contend that he broke Israeli security laws and thus committed a crime. His actions undermined the state of Israel and so that makes his crime one of treason. At the least, he violated the law and is being justly punished, or so the argument goes.

Some might argue that Mordechai is a political prisoner because he holds a political view that Israel's nuclear program should be exposed. In this context he might be seen as a liberal activist or a dove, or a peacenik, to use a term from the 1960’s.

As a member of the human race who believes in the possibility of goodness in all people, I see Mordechai as a conscientious objector, a prisoner of conscience. For in him I see a fellow human being struggling between issues of right and wrong, just as I do. He must have gone through an enormous personal trial in making the decision to expose Israel's nuclear program. He must have weighed the pros and cons. And he must have known that there would be great personal risk to himself in taking the action he eventually took. His struggle is what makes me feel so close to him even though I am yet to meet him. I, too, am a fellow struggler.

This was not someone weighing the committing of a crime. What was to be his personal gain? He only stood to lose, to lose his rights as a citizen, to become a fugitive where he would have to look forever over his shoulder until the day they caught up with him. What weighed on his conscience was the awful knowledge of what Israel was doing — making weapons of immense destructive power. A guilty conscience is not a crime. Nor is it a political position in a partisan sense. Conscience, and acting from one's conscience, is as high an attribute as can be found in the human race.

Now secondly, as a Christian, I hold that certain values that under gird my belief in the possibilities of the human race to do justice are critically important. My belief here is that all human beings belong to the family of God. The three great faiths represented in that region of the world from where Mordechai comes — Islam, Judaism and Christianity — all hold that Abraham and Sarah are the great patriarch and matriarch of the three faiths.

I rejoice in the world that God created. Our three faiths tell of God's joy in making the universe and of God's particular joy in creating the human race. Therefore, it is not difficult for me to see that God takes no delight in the development of weapons that would destroy that creation and destroy human beings. In my belief that we are all children of one God, it is beyond my comprehension that anyone could stand idly by while others plotted how to kill other brothers and sisters with these dreadful weapons.

Mordechai's action came no doubt from a deep spiritual calling to stand against such an awesome evil that would destroy God's creation. I wish that the courage which propelled his witness could be as strong in every human soul, because these terrible weapons are not the sole property of Israel. We as the Church must stay engaged in the international campaign to rid the earth of all nuclear weapons.

While Israel is not alone in making plans to kill other human beings in the name of security, that does not excuse the injustice done to Mordechai Vanunu, or make him less a prisoner of conscience.

And, finally, and thirdly, as a mother, a wife and a woman, I hold values that are common with a growing network of women around the world, values of family and community. These values are rooted in a commitment to peace and nonviolence. There are other ways to address conflict than through war and preparation for war. Building community among nations is better than building armies. Strategies of cooperation are better than strategies of competition.

I honor Mordechai Vanunu because he honors these values. While I hold them in part because I am a woman, not all women embrace them, and not all men, thank God, oppose them. They are very much human values, to be embraced by all people. But I do believe that women are bringing these values forward at a time when they are greatly needed. As women make gains as decision makers in the councils of the world, the human race will move closer to building a world of community based on peace and justice. So these then are a few thoughts from a sister in the human family and a child of God and a mother who embraces a different way than the way of violence and war.

In January 1996 I had the great privilege of meeting Aung San Suu Kyi, the Nobel laureate who leads the democracy movement in Burma. In her, I met a soul mate, a sister, a woman of faith and a mother. As such, we spoke of our children and our dreams for a just world for them. She is a woman of immense inner courage and absolutely resolute. She is more than a good match for all the generals of the brutal regime she opposes. Her values are the very ones about which I have been speaking.

Suu Kyi is a Buddhist. But I was most moved by her when she spoke of Christian values. Here is what she said: "My understanding of Christianity, because my grandfather was a Christian, is that if you are a true Christian, you only fear God and no one else." Those are true words for all of us to embrace in these Jubilee days.

So I leave you with those words as a salute to two people who overcame fear and embraced the values of Jubilee, our brothers Mordechai Vanunu and our beloved Samuel Day. Their witness among us has been a special blessing. And now, may God bless each of you as you continue the journey into your own witness for justice and peace. Thank you.

Patti Browning is a long-time activist for human rights and peace, and a leading U.S. advocate for justice for the Palestinian people. Her husband Edmond Lee Browning retired as Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church, USA in 1997.