Changing Strategy for Economic and Environmental Justice

By Steven Charleston

“Environmental issues are not distinguishable from, but rather are woven into, the fabric of racial, social and economic justice. In response to this reality, the environmental justice movement mobilizes community, regional and national coalitions involving various interest groups across racial, ethnic and class lines.” (Vernice Miller-Travis)

Vernice Miller-Travis is right. As an environmental activist since 1986, working with the United Church of Christ's Commission for Racial Justice and conducting research into the connections between economics and ecology, she has documented her findings in “Christianity And Ecology,” a work published by the Harvard University Center for the Study of World Religions . Environmental and economic justice issues are intertwined. They include powerful threads of both social and racial justice. They incorporate a complex series of relationships that challenge any faith community to mobilize for effective advocacy. The only question is: How?

While the connections between ecology and economics may seem clear to veteran church activists, they are not clear to the community in the pews. Even less obvious are the hidden dimensions of racism and classism. . . the most important factor in choosing the placement of a hazardous waste site is race.

While the connections between ecology and economics may seem clear to veteran church activists, they are not clear to the community in the pews. Even less obvious are the hidden dimensions of racism and classism. For example, how many people in a congregation would be aware of the statistics that show that the most important factor in choosing the placement of a hazardous waste site is race? This disturbing fact has been authenticated by the analysis of environmental activists like Miller-Travis “Toxic Waste and Race,” 1987), who compared the rationale and discovered an obvious pattern. Poor communities of color are targets for toxic dumping. This kind of data connects the dots between environmental and economic injustice by linking them along color lines. But how many people of faith ever get to see that data presented in a persuasive way?

The problem is not a lack of information. Studies carried out by advocacy groups prove that there is a direct correlation between poverty and environmental abuse. The economics of profit, which exploit the world's poor (particularly indigenous peoples and communities of color) creates the conditions by which ecological degradation is not only permitted to happen, but aided and abetted by governmental complicity in corporate greed.

This unholy alliance reappears in a long list of ecological crimes. Repeatedly, the links between economic injustice and environmental destruction form a chain to bind the poor to cheap labor and the planet to exploitation. The loss of clean water and air, the destruction of wetlands and forests, the extinction of both habitats and species: on a global scale these are by-products of Empire. Poor people are doubly victimized, not only as their own environments are eroded, but as they are exploited in the process. In other words, there are plenty of “dots” and more than enough evidence to link them.

In fact, the problem can be defined as an overabundance of linkages. One of the dangers of environmental/economic justice advocacy is what might be called information overload. When activists attempt to explain how global economic practice intersects with systemic environmental destruction the result is an over-saturation of scientific and economic data. The truth is, environmental statistics are difficult enough to translate into a call to action, but when coupled with economic data the results can be deadly. What appears as apathy on the part of a wider church audience can be traced to the glazed eyes of men and women who feel numb in the presence of a complex pattern they can not unravel into a meaningful ministry. It is not indifference. It is inundation.

If our goal is to inspire others to join us in the struggle for environmental/economic justice, then how do we avoid the dead zone of informational overkill?

Therefore, we need to ask ourselves a fundamental strategic question: If our goal is to inspire others to join us in the struggle for environmental/economic justice, then how do we avoid the dead zone of informational overkill? How do we translate the intricacies of both scientific data and economic evidence into a language people will find motivating? How do we capture their imagination with a connect-the-dots picture that is the vision of a future in which people can clearly see themselves as active agents for change?

Here is one new approach to consider: what if we shifted the axis of advocacy from the political to the personal? What if the context was not social action, but evangelism? What if we held up a picture that looked more like Christ healing the sick than Jesus overturning the tables of the money changers?

One of the perennial complaints of environmental advocates is that they represent a cause with which everyone agrees, but no one wants to join. The disconnect is not in the “dots,” the facts, but rather in the way people see them.

Environmental data can appear too scientific and complex. The image it presents can seem overwhelming. However accurate or compelling the information may be, it lacks the ability to motivate individual commitment. Why? In simple language: the dots are all there, but the final portrait lacks a human face. People do not see themselves in the struggle for environmental justice, even though they are directly impacted. They have difficulty understanding how they can become meaningfully involved in a task so vast that it dwarfs their sense of proportion.

In the same way, economic injustice can look like an abstract work of art, not a clear picture of human need. Corporations are anonymous agencies. The exploited poor are invisible victims. Government officials are faceless bureaucrats. While all of the dots are there, the perspective they form can seem very distant and obscure. Poverty happens among vague communities kept from the foreground of public consciousness. Child and convict labor are murky realities blurred behind the benign advertisements of multinational corporations. Global debt is an arcane subject for most consumers. Although all of the facts may be inherent in the links between economics and environment, they are left scrambled. People have trouble sorting them out. Therefore, the overall image of the connections are confusing, not motivating. Instead of a recruiting poster for justice, the picture they convey is a paint splatter of mixed messages.

The challenge is clear: to be effective, advocacy must turn an abstract picture into a self-portrait. What has been perceived as a mass of information needs to be redrawn as a personal invitation. This is where the shift in strategy becomes critical. The context of advocacy must change. Rather than asking people to see the dots as a picture of social justice, they must be invited to see them as the face of Christ. The ground of the appeal must move from political action to spiritual formation. From justice work to evangelism. From awareness to conversion.

The strategy must be to reduce the volume of information to a concentrated focus in order to provoke a single response. That response is grounded in the spiritual awareness of the individual. It is a moment of self-recognition. This is what is meant by conversion : the intimate experience of personal transformation and commitment. But for this to work, church activists must take seriously the dynamics between the medium and the message. Our tactics must change. The way that we connect the dots must be less science and more spirit, less politics and more passion. If our purpose is to avoid informational overload then our call to justice must not be a lecture, but a liturgy.

Worship is intimate. It is personal. It is transformative. By placing the information, the “dots,” into the context of liturgy, people are drawn into the experience on the personal level. For example, the facts about ecological destruction and economic oppression can be laced through a litany of “prayers for the people.” The message can be reduced to fit the medium. Through intentional prayer, a person can reflect not on data, but on relationships . And that is the shift from simple information to deep recognition.

People should be invited to see themselves not as “prophets,” but as pastors. The congregation can accept this role in two ways: first by an act of confession . This is the moment of self-recognition, the time when people acknowledge their relationship to those who are suffering. The next liturgical step is the commissioning. This is the moment of conversion. . .

Take our original case of hazardous waste sites. As prayers are offered for communities impacted by these toxic dangers, the faces of families and images of the natural world living under threat could be projected on a screen. Rather than a power point of charts and graphs, the congregation could see other people just like themselves, people who need help. Essentially, the first outreach into a congregation should be a healing service, not a political meeting. People should be invited to see themselves not as “prophets,” but as pastors. The congregation can accept this role in two ways: first by an act of confession . This is the moment of self-recognition, the time when people acknowledge their relationship to those who are suffering. The next liturgical step is the commissioning. This is the moment of conversion, the opportunity to make a personal commitment as a healer in the name of Christ. Together, these two basic liturgical movements are the translation of the raw data of pain into a coherent response. They give people a first chance to see themselves in the picture of God's justice.

The strongest connection we can make between environmental and economic justice is a spiritual connection. If we fail to make that case, then we fail to inspire a new generation of activists. The mosaic of information we assemble must be pulled together against the backdrop of worship. It must convey a very simple, but profound message: every justice act is an act of healing. Every activist is a healer. Advocacy is when we lay our hands on a broken world. The first call to make a personal commitment to justice for the poor and justice for the planet is the call to stand in a personal relationship with Jesus of Nazareth. It is not a call to “political” action. It is an altar call. A call to conversion. For it is only through that depth of faith that any Christian will finally connect all of the dots and see his or her role in healing the Earth. It is only through the passionate eyes of belief that a person can see that the portrait before them is the image of God.

The Rt. Rev. Steven Charleston (Choctaw) is president and dean of the Episcopal Divinity School in Cambridge, Mass. Widely recognized as a leading voice for justice issues and spiritual renewal in the church, his ministry has been extensive and varied. It includes service as the Episcopal Church's national staff officer for Native American ministries in the Episcopal Church; the director of the Dakota Leadership Program; and the Episcopal diocesan bishop of Alaska. Steven's office may be reached by email at ndavidge@episdivschool.edu .