As a student, one of the things I do for my education is
read books that infuriate me because my education is occurring at a moment when
things are happening. One of those works this week included a claim that
ascribing naivety to the writers of the bible is not morally or epistemically
problematic because “naivety is not falsehood.”
This acclaimed scholar went on
to argue that this world, even at its most destructive and terrible and
hurtful, is part of God’s plan, and that we will achieve wisdom when we cease
to question the grave injustices of the world and simply accept that holy plan,
that will of the Almighty – accept a faithful naivety for ourselves.
I don’t blame him for the desire to return to naivety. It
has been a dark week for my sense of social justice. You see, I keep learning
that the causes I believe in are not such bright stars as I thought, but streaked
with injustice. I’ve been a vegetarian, a peace protester, an anti-sweatshop
mover, a feminist, a union worker, an environmentalist, a racial justice
leader, an ecumenist, and a gay rights advocate.
I have thrown myself into each
of those causes with a hunger for justice and perhaps a bit of naivety. And
each and every time I have learned that my cause was not without moral
ambiguity. Sweatshop-free clothes turn out to be made of sweatshop cloth worn over
exploited sexuality. Foreign and economic policy are complex and rarely
two-sided. Food choices are tinged with privilege and environmental causes are
acted out on women’s bodies. Feminists and the mainstream gay rights movement,
it turns out, are not so good at racial justice or dismantling a hurtful gender binary. Coalition-building sometimes means draping a cloth over that which is too
different about us and you.
A part of me misses the naivety. I am prematurely and
anachronistically nostalgic for my hippie youth. Even more than being nostalgic for the past, though, I am
nostalgic for the future.
When I say, “How come it’s okay for women to be treated this
way?” and they say, “It’s so much better than it used to be,” I’m ready for it
to be so much better than it is.
When I say, “Why is the fight for gay marriage, let alone
workplace non-discrimination and adoption and partner violence protections,
this hard?” and they say, “It’s so much better than it was just a short time
ago,” I’m ready for it to be a short time from now.
When I say, “How can the church tolerate this injustice?”
and they say, “But we have our unity,” I cannot just pray through the waiting
for a time when we unify ourselves around justice.
When I say, “How can children continue to go hungry in a
world with so much food and so much power?” and they say, “We’re meeting ourgoals,” I wonder if what goals we set that this
is meeting them, and I am ready for reality to exceed our dreams.
When I say, “Why do we permit a system that incarcerates
more men of color than it educates?” and they say, “Slavery only ended 150
years ago,” I am ready for us to be free of the slavery we are enacting on our
sisters and brothers right now.
I am ready. Maybe that is naivety. Maybe I will come to see
how much more complex all of it is and how my privilege blinds me from the
injustices to which I contribute. I hope, when that day comes, I can find a way
to lessen the suffering a bit and make my corner of the world, my life, a bit
more just, and maybe the future will come.
God am I ready.
