Living in a Posture of Gratitude

By Drew Gilliland
Program & Research Associate, G.L.O.B.A.L. Justice

It’s almost Thanksgiving, one of our society’s most revered and simultaneously (and ironically) overlooked holidays. There may be contentions over its origins, but the notion that we should take a day to be thankful for what we’ve been given has tremendous life-changing potential. 

Our society is arguably the most-connected, fastest-moving, always-on society the world has ever known. With newsfeed updates, phone notifications, the ever-present barrage of ads, and the mixing of old and new music, TV shows, and movies, we as a people rarely, if ever, actually take a moment to sit. We’re always chasing happiness, success, recognition, profits, power, pleasure, etc. We are collectively spinning our wheels most of the time, with injustice and outrage and loneliness and division to show for it. It’s no wonder that BuzzFeed News recently wrote an article entitled, “The 2010s Have Broken Our Sense Of Time.” We’re quite skilled at chasing after the wind. 

“The Teacher” in the ancient Hebrew wisdom book of Ecclesiastes was, as well. He tried chasing everything that we chase – wealth, fame, power, love – and found that everything in our world is “hevel, hevel, everything is utterly hevel.” Hevel, usually translated as “meaningless” or “vanity,” is the Hebrew word for vapor or smoke, and is used 38 times in the book. Life is temporary and fleeting, and it is an enigma and a paradox, just like smoke. Smoke appears solid, but if you try to grab hold of it, it slips through your fingers. It can also cloud our vision and disorient us to reality. There are accounts of celebrities and sports superstars who achieve their wildest dreams, only to find that their achievements don’t give them the satisfaction they had hoped for. Like smoke, trying to grasp life’s meaning can appear to be solid and achievable, only for it to cruelly slip away. In the world of justice, we can play an everlasting game of whack-a-mole, where one issue seems to be solved while another injustice rears its ugly head. It can be absolutely demoralizing and disheartening.

So why do I turn to Ecclesiastes for hope if it declares that all life is like chasing the wind – a pointless and fruitless exercise? Because the Teacher doesn’t end there. He encourages us to stop trying to find meaning in our striving, and instead accept that life is out of our control. Throughout the book, just when things get very dark, he reminds us of the gift of God: the enjoyment of simple, good things in life, like a conversation with a friend, time with family, a good meal, or a sunny day – the simple pleasures of life. We cannot control any of these things, but that’s what makes them so good. When we adopt a posture of trust in and gratitude to God, it frees us to enjoy life as we actually experience it, not how we think it ought to be.

The work of justice is good, worthwhile, and the Teacher even says that God’s ways of living with love and and justice are good and should be pursued. But this Thanksgiving, and as we come up on the end of the year, it’s easy for us to scramble even more – to grasp at smoke and chase wind. Let us remember to enjoy the little moments of this beautiful time of the year – leaves, lights, songs, hot drinks, family & friends, laughter and food. We can be a part of doing justice to and with the people around us if we enjoy them like the gifts they are. And if everyone in society lived like this, I think we would see a lot less hatred, greed, violence, and division. As JRR Tolkien once said in his book, The Hobbit, “If more of us valued food and cheer and song above hoarded gold, it would be a merrier world.” Let us adopt a posture of humility and gratitude so we can experience God’s goodness to us and be refreshed as we continue to pursue justice in his name.

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Many thanks to the good people at The Bible Project, who helped show me how beautiful Ecclesiastes really is. I borrowed from two of their videos (linked above) for some of this piece.

Discerning God's Will in Justice Work

By Drew Gilliland
Program & Research Associate, G.L.O.B.A.L. Justice

Recently, I have been reading an excellent book, Discernement by Henri Nouwen, the renowned Catholic priest & academic who spent his latter years residing at L’Arche Daybreak, a community of people with intellectual and physical disabilities. He had tremendous concern and love for those in society who are marginalized. And yet, he found time for quiet, contemplation, and a simple life. For many of us, it’s very easy to get caught up in the frenzy of seemingly non-stop and never-ending work of justice while neglecting the inner work and rest that is absolutely necessary for our own health and effectiveness. Nouwen provides timeless and timely wisdom in this regard in this book. 

Nouwen notes that the apostle Paul defines “discernment” thus in Colossians: “We ask that you may be filled with the knowledge of God’s will in all spiritual wisdom and understanding so that you may lead lives worthy of the Lord” (Col. 1:9-10 NRSV). Nouwen continues, “By ‘spiritual understanding,’ Saint Paul means discerning, intuitive, and perceptive knowledge, usually found in solitude, the fruit of which is a profound insight into the interconnectedness of all things, through which we can situate ourselves in time and space to know God’s will and do God’s work in the world” (pgs. 5-6). 

I find Nouwen’s emphasis on the interconnectedness of things fascinating because other theologians include this as a part of our being created in the image of God, and therefore as a core component of doing justice. As Migliore puts it, “Being created in the image of God means that humans find their true identity in coexistence with each other and with all other creatures…We become and stay human in the tension between personal identity and communal participation…Stated briefly, we live in dialogue.” In the Old Testament, this is confirmed through the words tzedekah (righteousness) and mishpat (justice). The former refers to a state of right relationship between people that affirm their God-given dignity as image-bearers, while the latter refers to a justice that is restorative and that includes advocating for “the least of these” and working to change social structures so that injustice ceases to exist. Both of these forms of justice are inherently relational; we are “political” creatures, as Aristotle puts it – we “live and develop [our] capacities in the intricate relationships and interdependencies of the polis, or city. This wisdom is beautifully captured an African proverb: ‘I am human only because you are human’” (Migliore, Faith Seeking Understanding, pg. 145). 

We all know this and work hard for it. But how often do we take the time, whether in solitude or in community, to discern how God would have us live in light of this reality today? 

Jesus was certainly one of the most prolific justice-doers of all time. After all, in John 21:25, the beloved disciple writes, “Now there are also many other things that Jesus did. Were every one of them to be written, I suppose that the world itself could not contain the books that would be written” (ESV). Jesus had no limit on the demands upon his time, energy, and mental, emotional, physical, and spiritual resources. He could have done the work of justice, mercy, and love 24 hours a day, 7 days a week, and it still wouldn’t have “fixed” everything. In spite of the need in the world that he encountered daily, or perhaps because of it, Jesus often took time in solitude, to rest. As Luke puts it in the fifth chapter of his book, “But now even more the report about [Jesus] went abroad, and great crowds gathered to hear him and to be healed of their infirmities. But he would [often/frequently] withdraw to desolate places and pray.”

Jesus needed to commune with his Father in order to discern how & what work he ought to do. He simply needed his Father. Dallas Willard once said something to this effect: We often only pray when we truly need God. How often in our work do we recognize we need God? Do we realize we cannot discern without Him? 

As justice workers, we may find ourselves thinking we can do more without solitude, prayer, and discernment. We may think that we have to be constantly on the move, always working, as if we were indispensable to the flourishing of His Kingdom of love, mercy, and justice, when Jesus himself took significant time to be alone with His Father because He needed Him.

Friends, rest. Let God refresh, replenish, and guide us into what He would have us do every day. Let Him guide us into those conversations, situations, and relationships where He wants us to be. We need to be still and listen to Him. He loves us, and He has created us for good works.  But, we must let Him show each of us what those are and how best to pursue them, as we rest in Him daily. 

Psalm 49 – Hope in the Midst of Unjust Darkness

By Drew Gilliland
Program & Research Associate, G.L.O.B.A.L. Justice

This summer, my church has been reading through the Psalms together with the theme of “Flourish,” coming from Psalm 1:1-3. Delighting in the Law of the Lord, the psalmist writes, makes a person firmly rooted by streams of water, yielding fruit, and not withering. Is this not what we desire as people of God, and as people who want to see justice done in this broken world? 

Today, I read Psalm 49, and it is a perfect psalm for all of us. It starts like this:

“Hear this, all peoples! Give ear, all inhabitants of the world, both low and high, rich and poor together!…Why should I fear in times of trouble, when the iniquity of those who cheat me surrounds me, those who trust in their wealth and boast of the abundance of their riches?”

— Psalm 49:1, 5-6

It’s so easy for me to be discouraged by the seemingly endless injustice in the world. People like Jeffery Epstein, in the news so much recently, used his wealth to schmooze other “important” people, even after being exposed as a trafficker. Economic inequality worsens, and many children & college students across the US, not to mention around the world, have to scrape by with little nutritious food to eat each month, while CEOs continue to see their paychecks balloon. In some states, parents are even giving up custody of their children so that they can get need-based college aid, while others use corrupt means to get their children into elite schools. Children are separated from their families and killed at schools and festivals, and rape victims in India & dissidents in Russia are silenced by suspicious “accidents.” This doesn’t even begin to cover the myriad famines, droughts, floods, storms, earthquakes, economic struggles, and personal struggles faced by billions.

And yet the psalmist asks, boldly, in the face of all this injustice, “Why should I fear in times of trouble?”

Why indeed? It looks as if we have much to fear from injustice. But it’s all hevel – a mist that vanishes. All the riches that seem to smooth over the evil that’s done will fade and perish, and all who commit injustice will die. “Humanity in its pomp will not remain; he is like the beasts that perish.”

But for those who trust in God, he will ransom our souls and receive us. Those who are persecuted, rejected, marginalized, who trust God – we will be rejected no more. We have a place with the one who holds all riches, all blessings, all good gifts, all justice, and all love in his life-giving, nail-pierced hands. We are rescued from Sheol and from injustice because he has defeated them wholly. What can other humans do to us? 

We can rest, despite the injustice we see and experience, that Christ holds us, sees our suffering, and will remember it. We can find security in the hope of the coming kingdom and the joy that will not only remove our pain, but will far exceed it, removing even its very memory. Let us not look at the seeming successes of the unjust and be overly frustrated or envious, but trust in the fact that God sees & knows, and holds in store for us, and for the oppressed, justice.

The hungry will be fed, the thirsty will have water, the poor will be rich, the unjustly imprisoned will be free, the lame will walk, the blind will see, the sick with be healed, the sinner will be made whole, and the dead will rise. “And behold, I am making all things new.” Let us remind ourselves of this truth this month, and let its beauty encourage us as we look forward to and work towards that reality.