Jubilee: The Righting of Relationships
At the heart of the Judeo-Christian tradition lies a vision that deserves continued probing as we settle into the new millennium. In religious circles for the past few years much has been said about the need for “Jubilee.” In fact, Jubilee images have animated a spectacular global movement that made progress toward debt cancellation real for some of the world’s most impoverished countries.
This reflection on Jubilee, however, has rarely considered the broader, practical ramifications of Jubilee in our own times. We have not seriously proposed a Jubilee that would restore fundamentally right relationships among human beings, the rest of creation, and the Creator-God.
The need for Jubilee is familiar, but a few illustrations might help focus our reflections. The most obvious relates to the global economy, to the lack of access to a decent quality of life for millions of people, as wealth and power are increasingly concentrated in the hands of a few. Women are carrying enormous burdens; children and workers are more vulnerable; cultural values are threatened, as is the rich heritage of indigenous peoples; and uprooted peoples wander the globe.
One vehicle appropriate to the Jubilee for establishing more just international economic relationships is that of continued and deeper debt relief for impoverished countries. Another might be work for international labor rights, to free those enslaved by unjust working conditions or unlivably low wages. A third would be the establishment of just laws for trade and investment.
A second evident example of the need for Jubilee is underscored by devastated ecosystems in every corner of the world. The earth, the created order, is desperately in need of restoration. Millions of people in our world feel in their souls a deep and painful rupture in a relationship with the earth that once was personal and vital — every drop of water carried and counted, every stalk of corn blessed. Forced to pull up roots from a place where that relationship was nurtured, they have moved on, escaping war, poverty, emptiness, and even progress, in search of survival. Many are driven to migrate by distant, powerful forces in the global economy; others, by drought or deliberate policies of displacement; yet others by violence or racism or the empty promises of a consumer paradise. In all cases, fundamental relationships between people and creation are damaged or destroyed.
Other millions, especially those of us in the so-called “developed” world, have never known the earth as anything other than a place to dump our garbage and bury our dead. Our alienation is profound. We think that food comes wrapped in plastic, coated with wax, or enclosed in a box. We have no idea where water comes from — except from a tap, and we assume it will always be there — hot and cold and potable.
A third example might be the militarization of U.S. relations with other countries the preponderance of military-to-military training exercises around the world, the ongoing sale and transfer of land mines and other arms, and heightened “preparedness” that includes the production and deployment of weapons of mass destruction. Right global relationships may well be precluded by the very weight of our military budget, which is about $300 billion a year, a tiny fraction of which would easily cover the U.S. share of “Jubilee level” debt relief.
How can we retool our world as we settle into the new millennium? Perhaps we have to look in the opposite direction. Can we nurture the instinct to care t o respond with passion and courage when we see people wounded or violently displaced, no matter where in the world they live? Can we seek justice for refugees and migrants, welcome them into our communities, and see their pursuit of a decent life for themselves and their families as a basic right? Can we see the connection between impunity and continued abuse and finally decide to hold leaders accountable for the violation of human rights which have been affirmed in UN treaties, conventions, and resolutions?
Can we put as much energy and money into the creation of effective, long-term, nonviolent solutions to war, including peacemaking and observer missions? Can we build skills in local communities around the world for conflict resolution? Can we support active and principled nonviolent resistance to injustice and abuse?
The Jubilee was intended as Israel’s protection against the inevitable tendency of human societies to concentrate power and wealth in the hands of a few. It was the culmination in every 49th year of the Sabbath cycle so clearly described in the story of manna in the wilderness (Exod 16:15- 26). At that time God reminded the people that the purpose of economic organization was to guarantee enough for everyone, not surplus for a few. The Israelites were to shape something profoundly different from the economy of Egypt. Human attempts to control and maximize the forces of production were to be regularly interrupted by a required Sabbath rest (Exod 31:12-17; Deut 15:1-7), prescribed for both the land and human labor. This balancing of work and rest reflected God’s pattern during creation (Gen 2:2), and both were “good.”
According to biblical scholar Ched Myers, the revisioning of Sabbath economics also defined Jesus’ call to discipleship, lay at the heart of his teaching, and stood at the center of his conflict with the established order. Jesus repeatedly asserted that the purpose of the Sabbath was to humanize the community, to make its internal relationships more just. In first century Palestine, Sabbath regulations, along with other debt and purity codes, were often being used to exclude some people and to perpetuate the privilege of others.
Throughout the ministry of Jesus were woven repeated examples of Jubilee practice and repeated invitations to do likewise. He called for the rebuilding of right relationships at all levels, from the household (Mark 3: 31-35) to the body politic (Mark 10: 35-45). In fact, there is no theme more common to Jesus’ storytelling than Sabbath/Jubilee. He promised poor sharecroppers abundance but threatened absentee landlords and rich householders with judgment. When faced with a dispute over inheritance rights, Jesus told a parable about the folly of storing up wealth. Even the parable of the talents (Matt 25: 14-30 and Luke 19: 11-28) might be better understood if it identified the servant who refused to play the greedy master’s money-market games as the real hero who pays a high price for speaking truth to power.
The manna story is also woven into Jesus’ practice, from the temptation in the desert and the wilderness feedings of thousands of people to the prayer he taught his disciples: “Give us enough bread for today, and forgive us our debts as we forgive others” (Matt 6: 11-12).
The first followers of Jesus tried to enact this Jubilee in their own communities (Acts 2:45 and 4:35). Our task is to do the same as we move into the new millennium. First, however, we will have to overcome deep skepticism that things can really change. Global economic injustice, ecological devastation, militarism and the unending violences of our world are formidable obstacles to Jubilee. Dismissing Jubilee practice, however, because it was never fully implemented is like saying that because the Beatitudes were never lived by the majority of Christians, they are therefore irrelevant to contemporary faith and practice.
