Ponderings

After a couple of cloudy days, and a generous amount of rain, the bright sunshine this afternoon was a welcome treat. I was sitting on the bleachers in the sun, watching the kids play ball, and reveling in the tease of summer warmth. But almost as quickly as the blissful thought crystallized, my hand went to where a visor might have been and my eyes squinted to get a better view. The very sun that makes the morning dew glisten and the flowers burst in radiance is the sun which blocks my vision as it rises and falls each day.

Some of what is hidden to me is perhaps best left beyond the glare, but some of it I would be good to see. Like on coming cars when I’m driving west at sunset. And some sights just make life more sweet, like watching the fly ball land in the pitcher’s mitt. My partner chooses to wear sunglasses for just such occasions, and maybe his is the better part of wisdom. But I’ve never appreciated the dark view of the world offered by tinted lenses; I always feel a little cheated of the full wonder of the sun. What I do see then is more brilliant, but admittedly my blind spots are pretty large.

So too my theology of justice. What I see so vividly is the right of every worker, in every land, to a livable wage with plentiful food, shelter, and healthcare. My vantage sees the simplicity of universal health care and minimum wage rising with the cost of living. Quality affordable childcare has blossomed as a ProLife concern. To be sure the sun drenched scene I witness bears a few less SUV’s and a whole lot more affordable public transportation. A hamburger does cost a bit more in my sight but the farmer and the server can afford to eat one. God’s justice, at least in the abstract, is remarkably clear to me.

My more fiscally conservative family members are oft to remind me that my view has some serious blind spots. Admittedly my view is not protected by economic theory nor shielded by a theology of works righteousness. Were I to see behind the glare I’m sure that I would stumble over the complicated ambiguity of unions. And I’m content in the hidden but undeniably messy issues of class, the cumulative effects of malnutrition, inadequate education, and desperation. The glare illumines and hides.

To be sure I would see the plight of the working poor differently were I to don visor and shades, but would the resulting view truly be more faithful? And this is the question to which we are called on this Labor Day weekend.