Anxiety and Justice

 It's election day in the U.S., and I'm anxious.

Not about any of the races, but because our church has given permission to Idahoans United for Women and Families (IUWF) to collect signatures for a ballot initiative on our property.

Essentially, this ballot initiative is eventually hoping to address a deficiency in the state's current abortion law - many doctors are afraid of providing life-saving care to pregnant people who come to them because the law is vague about where the line between "life-saving" and "elective" is, and they fear prosecution. So much so that Idaho is turning into a healthcare desert as doctors leave the state to practice medicine in places that they don't have to worry about the legal repercussions of their professional discernment.

This is something that many Idahoans recognize is a problem, and (the word "abortion" notwithstanding) they would be in favor of this measure. But because of the polarization of our nation's politics and the inclination of so many USAmericans to just share what they've heard instead of going to the source to learn for themselves, people tend to respond to things like this with assumptions and knee-jerk reactions instead of curiosity. As I was explaining Session's decision to the owner of the daycare that we host in our building, she told me that some of the parents were telling her that the initiative was seeking to make abortions legal up until 9 months gestation (very much not true - in fact, the text goes out of its way to clarify that the ballot measure would not have any impact whatsoever on pregnancies that have reached the age of viability). 

So back to my anxiety. Even though I considered this carefully before even bringing to to Session, and I believe that Idahoans should have the opportunity to voice their opinion (for or against) about whether this legal clarification is necessary, I found myself shaking a little bit as I explained my thinking to the daycare owner. The truth is, even though I believe in this with my whole heart, I don't want to deal with the (often vitriolic) pushback that so often comes with any discussion of these controversial topics. My emotional well is running dangerously low these days, and I just don't want to face anything that will deplete it any further.

But here's the thing- I've become more and more convicted, as the world continues to spin out of control, that this is no longer a choice that we get to make, especially those of us with any sort of privilege. If I claim to worship the God who demands that "justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream" (this week's narrative lectionary passage) it's not enough for me to nod my head silently and pray for rain in the desert. Justice doesn't just happen in the abstract; it is something that only exists in the context of our actions. If we don't act, there cannot be justice. And so, even when it's hard, even when there's a personal cost, it's part of the cross that we pick up when we decide to follow Jesus. 

At one point or another, whether in their middle school history class or later as an adult, everyone has asked themselves, "Would I have stood by and just watched the Holocaust - one of the most horrifying examples of human injustice ever - and let it happen?" We all like to think that we wouldn't, but we rarely consider the very real cost that we would have to pay. Anxiety is just the tip of the iceberg. In our own time, we're beginning to see some of the possible consequences of standing up and speaking out for what you believe is just - fractured families. Public harassment. Lost jobs. In some cases, even lawsuits and arrest. It's irrelevant whether or not these things should or shouldn't be consequences of seeking justice. What matters is whether or not justice is important enough to you to be willing to face them.

I can't stay for certain that I would be willing to risk bigger things, like explicit harassment and arrest, for the sake of justice, but I can tell you that I'm working to get myself to that point. Every time the anxiety hits and I want to pull back, I remind myself that self-preservation isn't a value that Scripture ever endorses. In fact, the very opposite: "No one has greater love than this: to lay down your life for your friends." (John 15:13, NRSVUE). It's a tall order, for sure. But if I really value justice - like, truly, not just in principle, but as something that guides my actions - it's something that I need to figure out how to accept and commit to. I hope you will, too.