Looking Outwards - why should God get all the credit for the hard work of humans?
Written by Kate Ayers
The past few years of my faith journey have featured a gradual but significant shift. I am starting to understand how loving Jesus does not come with the additional onus of “loving one’s neighbour” but that it is a faith which primarily, intrinsically, and inextricably looks outwards.
My theology degree has had me looking at extra-biblical accounts of The Early Church, who ruffled feathers by upturning social order and forming entire communities shaped by an outpouring of Jesus’ love. Somewhere along the (very complicated) way, Christianity devolved into a personal lifestyle choice, or an inconsequential nominal self-descriptor; synonymous with nationality or a just-in-case infant baptism.
Since university, Just Love has been a great place of growth and exploration of the justice which is at the heart of my faith. They have linked me up with places like Jericho Road, St Leo’s Church and Emmanuel House, each putting their faith into action in Nottingham. I am learning about suffering I would never have otherwise considered, and the remarkable charities working tirelessly to alleviate it. Even my minimal engagement with such things can feel exhausting but I am always excited by the number of Christians around me taking an interest in social justice. Even more, I am encouraged by the conversations that my involvement with these charities has sparked with my non-Christian friends (not to mention many Christian ones who haven’t yet discovered the justice issue which sparks their passion).
One thoughtful friend asked me why it was fair, when a person does a lot of great work for those in need, for Christians to quickly assign the glory, praise and thanks to God? In other words:
Why should God get all the credit for the hard work of humans?
It’s a great question which I’m still mulling over, but so far, the best way I could think to answer has been by tracing back the origins of the resources those people gave. For instance, if a team from IJM (International Justice Mission- an incredible cause to support) carry out a successful rescue operation and liberate many from modern slavery, we should rightfully congratulate them, but we could also ask what made those people able to do so. One example is that most likely, the team have university degrees or high-level training which made them eligible and capable. Higher education is unfortunately not universally accessible, funding additional to government provision and a decent secondary education are typical prerequisites. These are often based on the household income and school access of one’s family, (influenced by factors such as race and class) none of which are decided by the person in question.
I’m a student, but that doesn’t seem to justify the all-encompassing “I’m poor” excuse anymore. Being one actually by definition means I’m very financially blessed. I have access to loans, a stable place to live and all the facilities that I could possibly need. Apart from this raising an interesting point about whether ethical living comes with a class-divide (it 100% does), I feel increasingly convicted that it’s actually part of my privilege that I am able to do anything at all.
Everything I have, my time, my money, my skills and even the fulfilment of my human rights are traceable to factors which I did not earn. I have been granted most of them simply by virtue of being born a middle-class, white British citizen. So, what does this mean in terms of ethical living? I believe God has placed me in the circumstances I live in, and that my subsequent opportunities result from the vast and underserved grace He has for me. These things in my life are therefore not mine to hoard in blissful ignorance. They are tools which I have the responsibility to bless others with. Holding on less tightly to material possessions for instance, doesn’t just expose straightforward opportunities to serve the most vulnerable through giving. It is also a worthwhile witness to surrender entitlement to your wealth, showing that you are grateful for the life you have been given and want to honour the giver.
In my studies I also have encountered and found transformative the ideas of Liberation Theology, formed in response to a passive, exclusive and whitewashed Church. It challenges a faith which is exclusively concerned with individual salvation and reminds us that Jesus’ presence brought the Kingdom of God to earth, freeing mankind from the relationships devastated by sin (be that with God, self, others or the world itself). Without butchering them with my own paraphrase, here are the words of Gustavo Gutièrrez who pinpoints why the Christian faith is inherently outward-looking.
“Faith is confidence in love. It is faith in the Father who loved us first, without any merit of our own, and who fills our life with love and largesse. Love is at the very wellspring of our existence. This is why we reach fulfilment only by loving. Love is our trademark, branded into our being by the hand of him who made us.
Faith is more than merely believing in God; it is believing that God loves us. It is believing that God loves us by establishing justice and right in this conflict-charged history of ours. To believe is to love God and to be in solidarity with the poor and exploited of this world in the midst of social confrontations and popular struggle for liberation.
To believe is to proclaim the kingdom as Christ does – from the midst of the struggle for justice that led him to his death.” (The Power of the Poor in History)
It matters that Jesus’ ministry and attention revolved around the poor and the outcast rather than religious hypocrites. It matters that he associates right relationship with God with care for the needy (Matthew 25:34-45). And it matters that he demonstrates love through unfathomable personal sacrifice. I want to root out any part of my faith which is self-serving, and come closer to the Jesus who “made himself nothing by taking the very nature of a servant.”- Philippians 2:7.