This week I finally got a cold, though I’m mostly in recovery now. It’s been a while. In fact I can’t remember the last time I was sick since moving to Youngstown. I’ve had the great fortune of being reasonably healthy for a prolonged period of time. I actually remarked to Jennifer that perhaps there was something wrong with me, something odd that was preventing me from getting sick. It feels good to have a bit of a cold. I realize that having a cold has opened up new avenues, and in a way I feel closer to people. I realize in a way I have more in common with people in my cold state than I do when I’m healthy. Not everyone can say they’re healthy. Nearly everyone has had a cold. If I had to guess, I would say it is close to 99% of the people in this world who know what it’s like to have a cold. It’s a realization to learn that some form of setback, even a common cold, puts me in touch with the majority of humans that are alive on this day. It is a strange experience to feel that what often brings us closer to people is not what may make us exceptional or special, but common hardship, even if it’s a small common cold.
All of us want to be special and seen as unique in some respect. This is understandable. We may want to achieve something rare and lofty, and this is an admirable thing. We should encourage this kind of ambition. Yet it is also true that what makes us most profoundly human, perhaps the most sublime spiritual transformation of our life, rest in our embracing of the common plight: the things all of us struggle with, the things we all hope for. The struggle for well being, health, and happiness. The hope for meaning, fulfillment, liberty. This is where our most profound spiritual transformation can be discovered.
I’ve been wondering this week about how this idea of spiritual transformation relates to our current economy. As you may have noticed, one of the key factors of this upcoming election is our economy, particularly wealth inequality. I’ve been wondering especially as a citizen of Youngstown, what this might mean for us in this moment given the history of labor in this area, the history of the loss of industry, and our current commitments to our neighbors. I heard from someone recently that everyone in America is a temporarily embarrassed billionaire. The meaning of this statement is that the current period of financial struggle is seen as temporary, and there is a hope in becoming one of the exceptional who manage the majority of wealth in this country and in our world. It’s an understandable sentiment. I think it’s perfectly understandable and sane to not want to define yourself by your struggles but by your aspirations. To be a person who is not solely identified by something that is a source of pain, but something that can be a source of hope. Hence the story that perhaps we are all just temporarily embarrassed billionaires.
Some of my colleagues are really worried about the year ahead. They are worried the lines are becoming increasingly blurred between religion and politics. There is a concern that the social pressures of the day are forcing itself upon our spiritual lives. I see this movement, but I am not concerned, and I’ll tell you why. I think we are undergoing a period of spiritual transformation. I think we are beginning to discover that there never was such a thing as a purely personal life that can be divorced from community concern and political concern. There has never been a day when we were autonomous individuals who made personal choices that did not impact everybody around us. We are moving into an era of greater understanding that there is no such thing as an isolated spiritual life – in fact this desire is the antithesis of a rich, and authentic feeling of being alive. I don’t think the lines need to be blurry for us to see this, but I think we are discovering a truth, that the line is porous, and each thing is feeding every other aspect. The personal is feeding the political. The economic situation we live in defines how we see a person, and what it means to live a worthwhile life. Our religious life impacts how we parent, how we talk to strangers, and yes, how we vote. It is all related, and this has always been true.
In recent history there was a movement called Occupy Wall Street, that brought attention to the vast wealth and income disparity in this country. I know there was an Occupy camp here in Youngstown. But I think Youngstown has had lots of Occupy movements. When steel workers first threatened to occupy a mill until they were given ownership in the late 1970’s that was the same movement. When workers asked the federal government for a bail out to keep the mills open and become co-op employee owned institutions and were denied, that was also part of the same movement. When large corporations were allowed to move business overseas with little notice, and decimate an American city without financial consequence, that was part of the same movement. Government complicity in all of this is right to spark a movement.
I remember when the modern Occupy movement happened, and I was at a Unitarian Church, and the sermon was about not excluding the 1%. One of the major donors at the church identified as part of the wealthy elite. Here in Youngstown, we don’t have any donors in the 1 or even top 10%, so I can say what I want. But honestly whether we did or not, I would say the same thing. I have had individuals and families with great wealth who have helped me become who I am. Without families with great wealth, I wouldn’t have had educational opportunities paid for, I wouldn’t have had my salary in different congregations. It was completely dependent on families with inherited wealth, who were thus able to shape and move politics, and endow funds to help individuals like myself. I say that because I think the discussion of wealth inequality misses the boat if we try to demonize people with great wealth. The problem is not personal. It’s larger than that. The concern that many people have now is not whether or not they’re going to have a chance to be a billionaire let alone a millionaire. The concern is whether they’ll be able to take care of their child if they get sick, if they’re going to be able to retire, if they’re going to have to endure working two or more jobs to stay in just enough debt and manage not to get evicted. The concern right now is a system that is making people work day and night just to survive. The concern is we’ve lost the ability as a nation to imagine a society where the most common among us can actually thrive and have productive lives. This is the concern. Yes, it is a political concern. But it’s much more than that. It’s a spiritual concern, and it’s a humanitarian concern.
There is a great wisdom to survival. There is a poignancy that breaks my heart about standing still on a ruined place, because you know it’s worth something, and you know you’re worth something. I’ve learned so much about myself by being here in Youngstown. I’ve learned to identify a kind of resilience that is still, natural, and unassuming. I’ve been able to let go of a lot of extra stuff being here, assumptions, and pride, and I have much more energy to focus on what I care about. That has been a great relief. There is wisdom to survival that is borne out of constant witness. That is the history of this church.
The problem is I think we’ve been expecting people to merely survive for way too long. It is a testament to the human spirit that this is possible, but it is also a testament to how unjust our economic system is to demand this kind of survival for so long with no relief or hope.
There will always be enough exceptions to keep the narrative going that we are all just temporarily embarrassed billionaires. There will always be people who grew up here in Youngstown who will go on to achieve fame and fortune. And we should celebrate them and be proud of them. We should encourage each other to follow individual gifts and develop them. But our dignity as a human species is not found in the exceptional. It’s found in the common. Our dignity, our greatest asset as a species, is found in the common. That dignity is our common wealth. And I think that is what we have been putting off for way too long. The changes we make will be insufficient unless they are changes that dramatically impact the common daily life for people with children, people working more than one job, people who are older than 65 who can’t afford to retire.
Nobody wants to be poor, nobody wants to be perceived as a burden on society, nobody wants to be seen as someone who struggles to take care of themselves or their familly, nobody wants to worry about whether they can afford to feed their children, nobody wants to wonder if they can afford to take care of their spouse with cancer. You can ask anyone: a billionaire, someone who is middle class, someone who is making minimum wage, someone who just arrived in this country and is making below minimum wage, and you will discover the same answer: nobody wants this. The question is not if we can find a way to alleviate these concerns. The numbers show us that we have enough wealth in this country to enable our citizens to live a more dignified life. The question is not if we can do it . The question is not whether the government could have offered support to Youngstown workers to start new businesses. The capability is absolutely there. The question is political. Is there enough political will or pressure from the people? The question is moral. Do we have enough vision to even imagine a society where the common person can achieve liberty, dignity and financial security? The question is spiritual. Do we have willingness to see ourselves as common, especially if you’re a billionaire? A common person through your actions, in how you treat and care for the common, in the policies you propose to defend the common interests and the common person’s right to health, well being and liberty. Identifying in the abstract with the common person is so yesterday. That has been the politics of the last 50 years or more, and it makes sense that the people are growing restless of this kind of mimicry and mockery.
This issue won’t be going away. The issue of insurmountable economic hardship won’t go away until it’s resolved. And what do I mean by it’s resolved? I don’t think a simple policy will fix this, though I can think of a number of good policies that would be a good start. I would say we are on the road to resolution, when more and more citizens wake up to the fact that we have a common plight. That even with my exceptional qualities, qualities that each of us possess uniquely, our real value as human beings come from our ability to identity with each other as commoners, people who struggle with sickness and wonder if we can pay to get well, people who wonder if we’ll have time and energy to dedicate ourselves to what we love, people who want to do more than merely survive.
We say this church is a place of transformation. It’s the heart of our mission – transformation of ourselves and transformation of our community. Many people may understand this transformation like a caterpillar who transforms into a butterfly and can fly away. But it’s really the opposite. It’s the butterfly coming back to the cocoon, and realizing she was first a caterpillar, and then nurturing the other caterpillars, making sure their cocoons are protected so they too can find their wings. Our greatest strength is not found in who we become, but in who we are, and will always be. We choose to see the world from both sides: from the side of the exceptional and the side of the common. From the 1% and the 99%, and know that no matter who we are, what we hold in common, is what truly makes us great. If you act for the common interest, for those with little or no political voice or power, you become great. A billionaire can achieve this greatness. Someone who is underemployed and struggling can achieve this greatness. It’s the kind of greatness our nation is waiting for. 99% of us are waiting for this.
