Let Justice Roll

Sermon by the Rev. Sarah Gibb, Affiliated Community Minister

Unitarian Universalist Church of South County
January 15, 2006

Thank you, choir, for your gift of beautiful music this morning. The lyrics to their song [Step by Step the Longest March] are the preamble to the American Miners' Association's constitution. The AMA was the first national union for mine workers.

Miners have been on my mind these past couple of weeks. We all witnessed the fear turned jubilation turned horror at the Sago mine in Upshur County, West Virginia earlier this month.

Nation's hearts went out to the people of Upshur County. Ordinary people. Working people. And too often, poor people. People who can to often be invisible to those who are better off. It was a reminder of what Hurricane Katrina so powerfully showed our nation: there is real poverty here—in the midst of the richest country in the world. And the poor are struggling.

I've been to Appalachian mining country, and I've been to New Orleans and small towns nearby. I went to these places to serve: to partner with organizations for the poor and of the poor, organizations that were working for better living conditions for all. I worked side-by-side with people whose families lived on less than 10,000 a year, people who had joined together to create better housing for themselves and others.

The words to the hymn fit with my experience in those places: "many drops can turn a mill," "many stones can form an arch," "singly none, singly none."

The song rings true, because each of us, a mere stone or drop can at times feel helpless, isolated, overwhelmed. But when we get together we can be powerful—this is a lesson we can all draw not only from the Labor Movement, but also from Martin Luther King, Jr. and the Civil Rights movement.

People have power when they band together—even oppressed people, even poor people—those who are thought to have the least power. Those who, without banding together, are largely invisible to those more fortunate.

This weekend, our congregation is one of many, banding together to mark Martin Luther King Jr.'s birthday with a Let Justice Roll worship service. The Let Justice Roll campaign is an interfaith initiative fighting for a living wage for all American workers. We tend to associate Martin Luther King, Jr.'s name with racial justice, not economic justice. But throughout the years of King's activism, he began to see how the oppression of poverty was linked to the oppression of racism. And he and other leaders of the civil rights movement began to build what they called the Poor People's Campaign—a movement of people of all colors who worked to end poverty and increase economic equality. It is in the spirit of King's later work—the work he was doing in Memphis the day that he was murdered—that the Let Justice Roll campaign takes its shape. To learn more and get involved in Let Justice Roll, sign up at our table after the service.

I've been told that "there aren't really poor people here"—not in South Orange County. The visible poor live up north—in Santa Ana, for instance, which the Rockefeller Institute found to have the highest "hardship index" rate in the United States: meaning that its poverty levels, unemployment, and crowded housing make it arguably the hardest US city to live in.

I've also been told that the poor people here are illegal immigrants—and yes, some are, but it's not the whole picture. Working and living in poverty is a problem for undocumented aliens, documented aliens, and US citizens alike. In fact many of the poverty wage jobs here are only open to citizens and to the documented.

Working Poor are here in South County, too. Some live here, some commute from far away to work in residents' homes. They are the people who serve: cashiers, house-cleaners, cooks, dishwashers, baggers, gardeners, day-laborers, health aides. Amidst South County 's many Lexuses and BMWs they take the bus, or carpool. They ride bicycles out of necessity, not recreation. Many are Latino, some are Asian, a few are black, many are white. All are just barely scraping by.

Approximately 35,000 people are now homeless in Orange County. That's about as many people as live in San Juan Capistrano. If you meet a random Orange County resident, they're just as likely to be homeless as they are to live in San Juan Capistrano. And 80% of those 35,000 homeless people have jobs. They just can't afford to have a home. They live in cars, they camp, they rent rooms in old motels, they stay on the couches of family. And they get up and go to work every day.

Jean Forbath, who founded Share Our Selves in Costa Mesa, has gotten to know many of Orange County 's working poor. She wrote:

The woman who takes care of other people's kids in [Newport Coast] goes home to a crowded apartment where there are 14 or 15 people living. She hasn't seen her kids all week and she finds they've been home from school because they've been sick, and nobody's been home with them. She has to try to find somebody now to take care of them. The clinics are closed, so she has to take them to the emergency room; she has no benefits in her job, she has no vacation pay. So she goes to the emergency room to have her kids treated for maybe strep throat. She gets billed for the use of the emergency room and this takes a week's wage.
Then we see families with two and three children who are living in their cars. Every time I try and see if there's room in shelters or if we can put people in a motel and see the look on the children's face of anxiety, wondering are we going to have a place to stay tonight—is she gonna get us in somewhere? This is Orange County, this is an awful hidden part of our lives that we really don't see." ^[1]

I speak of poor people and poverty, but what does poverty mean? It's not easy to define. The federal government tried to define it, coming up with a formula decades ago that seems arbitrary today. Dictionaries have different definitions. Some definitions focus on the inability to purchase basic necessities. Another definition of poverty looks at where and when poverty takes place, defining it as a lack of "usual or socially acceptable amount of money or material possessions."

Now, if we're defining poverty as not having a socially acceptable amount of money or material possessions… that really changes depending on where you live in South Orange County.

John and I recently visited the home of an acquaintance who lives with her family in Marbella, the exclusive gated country-club community in San Juan Capistrano. She had a large gorgeous home, beautifully decorated. She confessed that she and her family felt a little bit like "the poor" in comparison with some other residents of Marbella—the ones with the 17,000 square foot homes. Her home looked like it was about 5,000 square feet. I guess it's all relative. But if the opulence of Marbella makes our acquaintance feel poor, imagine how the maids, the gardeners, and the cooks feel each day as they commute in and out to serve the rich. Her comments show that our perspective looks different depending on who we compare ourselves to: those who have more than us, or those who have less.

Comparisons aside, if we look at poverty as not having what it takes to pay for the basic necessities in life—food, shelter, clothing, transportation, insurance—then far more people in Orange County are poor than the 11% ^[2] who live below the federal poverty level.

What kind of money does it take to live in South Orange County? According to the figures of the Low Income Housing Coalition, local families must earn $26.77/hour ^[3] to afford a typical 2-bedroom apartment ($26.77/hr, 40 hr wk, 52 wks/year) without going into debt. And that apartment's not even big enough for a family with more than a couple kids.

A minimum wage worker could afford that apartment – if he worked a 159 h/wk all year. If he worked that much, he would only have 9 hours per week to eat, shop, relax, parent, sleep—it would be impossible. No wonder so many of our lowest-paid workers do not have homes.

What's wrong with this picture? And how can our Unitarian Universalist values guide us in addressing it?

Our response to widespread poverty in our community as people of faith—people with faith in humanity's ability to take on tough social problems—our response can be active or passive. It's appealing, especially if we're economically comfortable, to run from a problem of this magnitude—to run and hide and insulate ourselves as it is so easy to do in the planned communities where so many of us live.

But if we care, if we believe King's words that "we are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality," then we must take an active role in addressing the glaring inequality in our midst. The active response I am suggesting has two dimensions: the moral and the practical. They are interwoven.

Morally, we can recognize and challenge elements of the moral structure that supports the vast inequalities we see in our society:

We challenge the idea that the economy delivers to people what they deserve. Real-life experience shows that there is no "invisible hand" guiding the good to the mansions and the bad to the poorhouse. Economics just don't work that way. However the myth persists. 70% of Americans believe that their financial situation is "at least somewhat" reflective of "God's regard" for them. ^[4]We can challenge this, recognizing that our economic system is a human system, disconnected from any cosmic sense of punishment or reward. And because our economic system is a human system—a flawed human system—it demands a human response. There is no invisible hand—it is our hands. And it is up to us to determine if the system is merely human or if it is to become fully humane.

We can challenge the idea that wealth is a product of personal strength of character. Wealth and prosperity can indeed be products of hard work and strength of character. But to act like that is always the case is to ignore some deep-seated inequalities in the very structure of our nation. Wealth is just as much a product of luck as it is of labor.

We can challenge the idea that Poverty is a product of personal failure and weakness of character. It can be, and author David Shipler's interviews with working poor find that many feel they are in their current situations because of bad choices they've made. But our choices are not made on a level playing field. Inequality impacts freedom. The poor suffer more consequences—for their own actions and the actions of others. (A woman living in poverty can't choose legal abortion in the same way a woman with a savings account can; a man living with alcoholism and poverty can't choose to overcome his addiction in a private detox facility; a teenager can't simply choose to go to college when her family is dependent on her income to stave off eviction.) Actually, the ability to survive in poverty—and not completely "lose it"—takes great strength of character.

As we challenge the morality that condones and justifies inequality, we can draw on our Unitarian Universalist tradition, and the tradition of great reformers such as Martin Luther King, to create a new morality. A morality that recognizes our mutuality and our shared destiny as Orange County residents, as Americans, as residents of this earth. As King wrote, "Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly." We are interrelated and the future is in all of our hands.

In addressing poverty and inequality we can draw on the Unitarian Universalist principles, affirming:

• The inherent worth and dignity of every person
• Justice, equity, and compassion in human relations
• The goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all

And from these, we can guide our actions to make Orange County a better place for all, especially those living with poverty.

We can work to honor the inherent worth and dignity of every person by letting our eyes be opened to the existence and experience of the poor. According to the Orange County register: if all the working people in Orange County who are homeless stood shoulder to shoulder, they would form a line at least 11 miles long. ^[5] Imagine that line when driving along the 5 to San Clemente or Irvine. Bring that line of people into your circle of concern.

Seek justice, equity, and compassion in human relations. What opportunities do we have for creating positive change in a system that leaves so many of us out in the cold? What can we work for—on a local level, a county-wide level, a state level, and a national level, that can improve the lives of the poor? Martin Luther King, Jr. declared that "True compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it comes to see that an edifice which produces beggars needs restructuring." Let's look at that edifice, and restructure.

We can work towards "the goal of world community with peace, liberty, and justice for all." Economics and poverty in the United States are strongly linked with economics and poverty around the world. King challenged his audience to recognize this, in what turned out to be his last sermon: "First, we are challenged to develop a world perspective. No individual can live alone, no nation can live alone, and anyone who feels that he can live alone is sleeping through a revolution. The world in which we live is geographically one. The challenge that we face today is to make it one in terms of brotherhood [and sisterhood]." Let us look at our "world community" and our nation's corporate, labor, and trade policies impact the lives of people worldwide.

We can support government policies that promote people's worth and dignity, regardless of income. We have some opportunities in this time and place:

• A ballot initiative and a legislative bill are both moving forward to raise the minimum wage in California. It is currently $6.75 an hour—an amount that allows a person to rent 1/4 th of a 2 bedroom apartment in Orange County.
• Groups in Orange County are advocating for access to health care, expanded health insurance, and adequate housing for our lowest wage earners.
• There is a table in the social hall with opportunities to learn more and take action.

Finally, something we can do is to practice gratitude for what we have got. I'm not talking about the kind of gratitude that puts others down while it props us up—saying "thank goodness I'm not like them." I'm talking about the kind of gratitude that simply gives thanks for what each of us do have—material and immaterial—that sustains us. True gratitude includes gratitude for all who benefit us by the work of their hands and the sweat of their brows.

I witnessed something amazing during my first year as a seminarian at Harvard Divinity School. That spring, two dozen Harvard students entered an administration building and refused to leave until Harvard University decided to offer its lowest paid workers a living wage —a wage with which Harvard's janitors and food preparers could actually afford housing and health care. Two years before, Harvard students—who you might call a privileged crowd—began talking with service workers at the school and learning about their plights. The students noticed that Harvard was the richest university in the world, and that its service workers were some of the poorest people in the area. The students and the service workers together said "this isn't right." During the next two years, students organized and rallied, and labor unions organized and rallied, and their rallies grew, but to little avail: Harvard's administration refused to pay a living wage and said "case closed."

But the students wouldn't let the case close. In a carefully organized move, they took over an administrative building and began what was to turn into a 19-day sit-in. Each day, speakers and rallies gathered outside the building to increase the pressure on the administration. I chanted outside and held signs, cheering and shouting alongside janitors in union jackets. Si, se puede (Yes we can!) was a favorite chant, one that originated with the United Farm Workers here in California. And yes, we could—the administration finally felt the moral pressure of the workers and students and reopened negotiations. And today, all of Harvard's workers get a much more livable wage.

Si se puede. Yes we can. If we are creative, if we work together, we can move the immovable. Whether it is the stubborn Harvard administration, whether it is segregation, whether the immovable thing is an economic system, whether it is Arnold Schwarzenegger, we can create change. As the choir's song said, "and by union what we will, can be accomplished still, many drops can turn a mill." As King proclaimed, "We shall hew out of the mountain of despair, a stone of hope." So may it be. Amen, and blessed be.

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1 Southern California Voices/ A Forum for Community Issues: Testimony One Person's Story About Poverty in Orange County, Published June 7, 1993 in the Los Angeles Times

2 US Census data, Orange County all ages in poverty, 2003.

3 National Low Income Housing Coalition, "Out of Reach 2005" online database.

4 Harper's Magazine, 1995, referenced in How Much Do We Deserve? by Richard Gilbert.

5 OC Register, "Hunger on the Rise in OC Recently, UCLA Study Finds." 6 July 2005.

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