Theologian in Residence
|
Dr. Wessel-McCoy is co-coordinator of the Poverty & Leadership Development at the Kairos Center, National Political Education for the Poor People’s Campaign: A National Call for Moral Revival, and Lecturer in Practical Theology at Union Theological Seminary. She holds a PhD in Christian Social Ethics from Union.
|
“There, but by the grace of God, go I”
Dr. Colleen Wessel-McCoy, Theologian in Residence
Notes from the Road, September 2019
When we moved from Manhattan to Brooklyn three years ago, my kids had a decision to make. They could stay at PS75 or transfer to a school near our new apartment. They voted to stay at their old school, so every morning we pack up, now including their baby sister, and catch the subway. And every afternoon--or evenings if there are meetings and afterschool activities--we hop back on the train. Most days are pretty smooth. The trains are fast. The MTA works hard. And--critically--they didn’t totally shut down the L line.
But there’s this one long tunnel. Maybe you know it. It connects the L to the 1-2-3 at 6th avenue. It’s windowless and dirty and crowded. I often feel like it goes on forever as I start to schlep three kids down the avenue-length hallway. But in reality it's just four minutes. Eight round trip. Most of the time there are people and families camped out on the floor, getting some rest, asking for money, or just trying to make it through the day. And so here and across the subway system, my kids and I spend a lot of time talking about poverty.
At first my kids--four and eight at the time--responded by asking how much money we’d need to give people in order for them to have an apartment. And when the answer was more than we have, they started imagining other ways of organizing society so that it would be possible for all people to have housing. They had some good ideas. They were able to think big about what society is capable of doing and being.
Homelessness is immoral and shocking. Not homeless people. Homelessness. We live in a world of abundant resources, where there are billionaires. There are more empty apartments than homeless people. Homelessness need not and should not exist. And the people of our city are not okay. We are not okay.
I’ve been thinking lately about the phrase “there, but by the grace of God, go I.” The phrase is not from the Bible. It’s been traced back to the sixteenth century. But it has a common sense theological appeal. It’s meant to bring us closer to the person it’s talking about. That person over “there” and “I” are not so far apart. But I’ve been having a really hard time with the idea that it’s the grace of God that separates us from hardship.
There are a number of people my kids know well without realizing they too are homeless. Picture the Homeless and other organizations of the poor have been important influences on our lives for over a decade. My kids started going to actions led by homeless people when they were bundled in a baby carrier. So I was a little surprised by some of their questions. They used poverty synonymously with homlessness, as if everyone with housing was by definition not poor. They wondered why people asking for money had instruments or belongings. When I said not everyone asking for money is homeless, they struggled to understand how people could have housing and still need to ask for change. So we talked about how many things we need to survive--going to the doctor, buying food, paying for the subway, doing laundry. We also talked about how we moved to Brooklyn because we were offered a subsidized apartment. If for just a couple months couldn’t pay our rent, we’d be homeless too. We talked about what we’d do if we lost our housing and the reality that most homeless people in the U.S. are doubled up with family or friends.
The reality is that 140 million people in the US are poor. The official US poverty threshold puts this number much lower--about 40 million--but that measure is biased against poverty being as widespread as it is. But looking more closely at trying to live on $12,491 as an individual or $25,751 as a family of four--incomes considered above poverty by the federal measure--reveals the insufficiency of how we talk about who is and isn’t poor. In our current economy, most of us work hard to stretch our income to secure housing and utilities, healthcare, nutritious food, childcare, education, transportation, retirement savings, and other necessities. Only a small percentage of people are truly immune from the possibility of hardships throwing us into desperate financial situations. By doubling the federal poverty measure, we get a number that more closely approximates the lived reality of poverty: 140 million people, nearly half of the U.S. population, are poor.
And so this brings my thinking back to “there, but by the grace of God, go I.” If there are 140 million of us. The distance between “there” and “I” is not far. But we’re told--and my kids heard the messaging--that there’s a big gap. And those of us who live on the slim margin between officially poor and unofficially poor might take comfort in the idea that God is keeping us above the federal line. But what are we saying about God’s relationship with other poor people? How do we think about God when we suffer? Surely it is not the biblical view that people are poor because God withholds grace from them. Or that grace is something like divine good luck.
This past month a small group of homeless leaders from across the country came together for 12 days as part of the committee to reestablish a National Union of the Homeless. Their time together was spent studying history, economics, and organizing as an officers training school. Each of these leaders is part of tent encampments and networks of homeless people and each of them is working to organize the poor in their communities into homeless unions. Together they’re going to bring more and more leaders from the ranks of the homeless together to fight for their rights to housing, healthcare, the things we all need to survive, and dignity.
I’m reminded by their taking action together--giving from the midst of their own poverty and suffering--of Paul’s description of the leadership and generosity between the churches of the early Jesus followers. Paul called it the Collection for the Saints, and he describes it in Second Corintians 8 like this:
“And now, brothers and sisters, we want you to know about the grace* that God has given the Macedonian churches. 2 In the midst of a very severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity.* 3 For I testify that they gave as much as they were able, and even beyond their ability. Entirely on their own, 4 they urgently pleaded with us for the privilege of sharing* in this service to the Lord’s people.”
The word grace--charis--shows up three times in this short passage. The translation from the original Greek into English doesn’t use the word grace every time. But the word charis is there marked by an * above. When Paul talks about the collection of support from poor congregations to share with other poor congregations, he uses the word grace. And importantly, grace describes not only the actions of God but the actions of the poor Macedonians. In this understanding of God’s grace, “there” and “I” come closer together, sharing with each other out of extreme poverty and joy.
In addition to studying history, economics, politics, and organizing, the officers in training for a National Union of the Homeless also spent a day on the bible and theology, and I joined them for that. We read passages from the Bible and discussed the immorality of a society that allows homelessness. Almost everyone had examples of times when they’ve been manipulated by churches and charity programs. And everyone had deep insights into the moral and religious aspects of the work of ending poverty and homelessness. We talked about how Jesus was an organizer, bringing together poor and homeless people into as a new community around the mission of a world transformed and reborn. And we talked about how expensive it is to get ordained. Not everyone God calls to ordained ministry can afford college and seminary.
Grace is hard to fathom. I am in awe of it spiritually and intellectually. But I know it’s more than good luck. And I know it brings us closer together rather than divides us. And I know I am witnessing acts of grace among the leaders from the ranks of the homeless who have faith that there are other ways of organizing society, where all people have housing. They are thinking big about what human beings, created in the image of God, are capable of doing and being.
Dr. Colleen Wessel-McCoy, Theologian in Residence
Notes from the Road, September 2019
When we moved from Manhattan to Brooklyn three years ago, my kids had a decision to make. They could stay at PS75 or transfer to a school near our new apartment. They voted to stay at their old school, so every morning we pack up, now including their baby sister, and catch the subway. And every afternoon--or evenings if there are meetings and afterschool activities--we hop back on the train. Most days are pretty smooth. The trains are fast. The MTA works hard. And--critically--they didn’t totally shut down the L line.
But there’s this one long tunnel. Maybe you know it. It connects the L to the 1-2-3 at 6th avenue. It’s windowless and dirty and crowded. I often feel like it goes on forever as I start to schlep three kids down the avenue-length hallway. But in reality it's just four minutes. Eight round trip. Most of the time there are people and families camped out on the floor, getting some rest, asking for money, or just trying to make it through the day. And so here and across the subway system, my kids and I spend a lot of time talking about poverty.
At first my kids--four and eight at the time--responded by asking how much money we’d need to give people in order for them to have an apartment. And when the answer was more than we have, they started imagining other ways of organizing society so that it would be possible for all people to have housing. They had some good ideas. They were able to think big about what society is capable of doing and being.
Homelessness is immoral and shocking. Not homeless people. Homelessness. We live in a world of abundant resources, where there are billionaires. There are more empty apartments than homeless people. Homelessness need not and should not exist. And the people of our city are not okay. We are not okay.
I’ve been thinking lately about the phrase “there, but by the grace of God, go I.” The phrase is not from the Bible. It’s been traced back to the sixteenth century. But it has a common sense theological appeal. It’s meant to bring us closer to the person it’s talking about. That person over “there” and “I” are not so far apart. But I’ve been having a really hard time with the idea that it’s the grace of God that separates us from hardship.
There are a number of people my kids know well without realizing they too are homeless. Picture the Homeless and other organizations of the poor have been important influences on our lives for over a decade. My kids started going to actions led by homeless people when they were bundled in a baby carrier. So I was a little surprised by some of their questions. They used poverty synonymously with homlessness, as if everyone with housing was by definition not poor. They wondered why people asking for money had instruments or belongings. When I said not everyone asking for money is homeless, they struggled to understand how people could have housing and still need to ask for change. So we talked about how many things we need to survive--going to the doctor, buying food, paying for the subway, doing laundry. We also talked about how we moved to Brooklyn because we were offered a subsidized apartment. If for just a couple months couldn’t pay our rent, we’d be homeless too. We talked about what we’d do if we lost our housing and the reality that most homeless people in the U.S. are doubled up with family or friends.
The reality is that 140 million people in the US are poor. The official US poverty threshold puts this number much lower--about 40 million--but that measure is biased against poverty being as widespread as it is. But looking more closely at trying to live on $12,491 as an individual or $25,751 as a family of four--incomes considered above poverty by the federal measure--reveals the insufficiency of how we talk about who is and isn’t poor. In our current economy, most of us work hard to stretch our income to secure housing and utilities, healthcare, nutritious food, childcare, education, transportation, retirement savings, and other necessities. Only a small percentage of people are truly immune from the possibility of hardships throwing us into desperate financial situations. By doubling the federal poverty measure, we get a number that more closely approximates the lived reality of poverty: 140 million people, nearly half of the U.S. population, are poor.
And so this brings my thinking back to “there, but by the grace of God, go I.” If there are 140 million of us. The distance between “there” and “I” is not far. But we’re told--and my kids heard the messaging--that there’s a big gap. And those of us who live on the slim margin between officially poor and unofficially poor might take comfort in the idea that God is keeping us above the federal line. But what are we saying about God’s relationship with other poor people? How do we think about God when we suffer? Surely it is not the biblical view that people are poor because God withholds grace from them. Or that grace is something like divine good luck.
This past month a small group of homeless leaders from across the country came together for 12 days as part of the committee to reestablish a National Union of the Homeless. Their time together was spent studying history, economics, and organizing as an officers training school. Each of these leaders is part of tent encampments and networks of homeless people and each of them is working to organize the poor in their communities into homeless unions. Together they’re going to bring more and more leaders from the ranks of the homeless together to fight for their rights to housing, healthcare, the things we all need to survive, and dignity.
I’m reminded by their taking action together--giving from the midst of their own poverty and suffering--of Paul’s description of the leadership and generosity between the churches of the early Jesus followers. Paul called it the Collection for the Saints, and he describes it in Second Corintians 8 like this:
“And now, brothers and sisters, we want you to know about the grace* that God has given the Macedonian churches. 2 In the midst of a very severe trial, their overflowing joy and their extreme poverty welled up in rich generosity.* 3 For I testify that they gave as much as they were able, and even beyond their ability. Entirely on their own, 4 they urgently pleaded with us for the privilege of sharing* in this service to the Lord’s people.”
The word grace--charis--shows up three times in this short passage. The translation from the original Greek into English doesn’t use the word grace every time. But the word charis is there marked by an * above. When Paul talks about the collection of support from poor congregations to share with other poor congregations, he uses the word grace. And importantly, grace describes not only the actions of God but the actions of the poor Macedonians. In this understanding of God’s grace, “there” and “I” come closer together, sharing with each other out of extreme poverty and joy.
In addition to studying history, economics, politics, and organizing, the officers in training for a National Union of the Homeless also spent a day on the bible and theology, and I joined them for that. We read passages from the Bible and discussed the immorality of a society that allows homelessness. Almost everyone had examples of times when they’ve been manipulated by churches and charity programs. And everyone had deep insights into the moral and religious aspects of the work of ending poverty and homelessness. We talked about how Jesus was an organizer, bringing together poor and homeless people into as a new community around the mission of a world transformed and reborn. And we talked about how expensive it is to get ordained. Not everyone God calls to ordained ministry can afford college and seminary.
Grace is hard to fathom. I am in awe of it spiritually and intellectually. But I know it’s more than good luck. And I know it brings us closer together rather than divides us. And I know I am witnessing acts of grace among the leaders from the ranks of the homeless who have faith that there are other ways of organizing society, where all people have housing. They are thinking big about what human beings, created in the image of God, are capable of doing and being.