Cocoa and Compassion

I wanted to post this for Valentine's Day but didn't get an opportunity. Fortune recently ran a fantastic article on the economics of chocolate - fantastic, not in the sense of a good-news story, but rather as a multifaceted look at the complexities of improving the lives of those in the developing world that provide us with many of our resources, in this case, the farmers in the Ivory Coast who produce cocoa. It's a sobering look into the realities that govern how hard it is to actually affect real change. Some excerpts:

Outside Sinikosson, El Hadj Madi Sankara cultivates 27 acres of cocoa, from which he usually harvests ten tons of beans, earning about $9,000 a year but remaining deeply in debt. Sankara and his 11-year-old son, Ibrahim, are preparing a large mound of cocoa pods for processing. "I want to help my father," says Ibrahim, standing on a pile of pods, toying with his machete. "I need to learn how to be a farmer." His sentiment captures the complexity of the child-labor issue here: Typically it is poverty that compels child labor, not greedy overseers.

Soon a group of young men and boys join the work. Among them are 8-year-old twins Hassan and Hussein. The boys, the children of a neighbor, are helping Sankara make his harvest on time. Their payment won't be in cash, but in reciprocal help from Sankara's family to their father. Not one of the kids goes to school. "We're all doing a hard job," says Sankara, "but we do not get a just price."

The farmers in Sinikosson do not know that Cargill buys their beans, but other farmers in the area are on painfully intimate terms with the Minnesota company. In the town of Thoui, members of a local farmers' cooperative say that borrowing money from Cargill has trapped them in debt and forced some of them to take their kids out of school and put them to work. "There is no other way we can buy fertilizer or feed our families throughout the year," says N'guessan Norbert Walle, a former president of the cooperative.

If farmers can't pay back their debts, they risk arrest. When Walle ran the co-op, his manager was jailed, he says, on orders from Cargill. The arrested manager, Lucien Adje, a former accounting student, says he was taken to the port city of San Pedro and put in a small cell. "You had to do everything in one place - you know, urinate, defecate. I couldn't eat much, it was so filthy."

Farmers describe these efforts [to eliminate child labor] as more akin to intimidation than to education. "People are worried that America will not buy our cocoa anymore," says Julien Kra Yau, director of a farmers' cooperative in Thoui. "That would be very bad." Adds the co-op's treasurer, Raymond Kouasse Kouadio: "It would be a total catastrophe!"

There is fair-trade chocolate on the market, but it accounts for no more than 1 percent of global supply - and the movement has little traction in Ivory Coast. A more effective way to combat child labor would be for the government of Ivory Coast to invest some of the revenue it gets from high taxes on cocoa exporters in education and social services to help poor farmers. But the government of Ivory Coast is ranked among the most corrupt in the world by Transparency International, a nongovernmental watchdog group. And it seems happier making excuses than changes.

I don't have much in the way of commentary on this. I think it's a view that perhaps those of us who are interested in economic justice need to hear. There simply isn't an easy solution - I was particularly struck by the worry that we will stop purchasing their products. Do we at times do more damage than good by refusing to purchase certain products? I simply don't know. The bottom line is that the farmers need a fair price, but the corruption between them and the end market makes such an arrangement difficult at best.

I like the way forward offered by such businesses as One Village Coffee. Here's a quote from their website:

Not only do we strive to create an exceptional cup of coffee in every roast, but we also believe our coffee is only as good as the communities we support. And so as a growing coffee company, we’re committed to helping communities both locally and internationally.

And it begins with raising our standard for coffee beyond just taste. It means supporting and partnering with organizations doing unique community development projects around the world.

I'm also a big fan of Kiva. In case you've been living under a rock, Kiva is a microfinance organization that connects lenders in the developed world with entrepreneurs in the developing world. The theory is that small loans, often $25 or so, spread out among many people can change the environment for business owners who just need a little help. It's a great way of connecting people who can afford to spare a bit of cash with those who need it in a way that offers dignity to both. That kind of creative imagination, pairing a business opportunity with compassion and integrity, is what is needed to move past our current, often destructive, models.

Technorati Tags: economics, justice, chocolate

A Time To Speak

If you want to read something truly, deeply, and profoundly disturbing, take a look at these excerpts from the recent debate at the University of South Carolina among the Republican presidential candidates for 2008, courtesy Keith DeRose at Generous Orthodoxy ThinkTank. It's enough to make me physically nauseous. The question: "How aggressively would you interrogate those being held at Guantanamo Bay for information about where the next attack might be?" (It's part of a larger scenario, which seems to me to be merely a way to make the issue more palatable.) Take a minute to read the responses. I'll wait.

I know this post is mostly rhetorical. I know that few things should surprise me anymore from the party that I once called home - after all that this administration has been permitted to do and to be, why should this bit be any different? Why should I expect that the next candidate will represent any substantive change? I'll give McCain credit - he has both the credibility and the chutzpah to speak out on this issue, and his comments in the transcript are a breath of fresh air. Romney, on the other hand, scares the hell out of me - the telling quote: "Some people have said, we ought to close Guantanamo. My view is, we ought to double Guantanamo." And the chilling thing is that this statement received applause. Not surprise, not derision, not incredulity - applause.

Where is the Religious Right when it comes to an issue that is as obvious as torture? Where is Dobson's outrage and scathing denunciations? Where is Robertson's semi-coherent ranting? From those who most loudly claim to honor the sanctity of life, the silence is telling. More than that - it's damning. That someone like Dobson is more concerned over Giuliani's stance on abortion and McCain's beliefs about marriage than over either's views about an issue that is currently front-and-center in terms of US foreign policy is disturbing, and frankly makes me wonder which scriptures he's been reading.

On the bright side - I've been impressed with the National Association of Evangelicals' recent statements on social action. Their document on torture that was recently published is excellent and deserves respect. It's always good to be reminded that not everyone is drinking the Kool-aid and that there is still such a thing as a prophetic witness to the state, even if the ones who seem to get all the press have forgotten what such a thing requires.

Technorati Tags: Religious Right, torture

What's in a Name?

In exploring the biblical themes of social responsibility, I had next thought to look at the Wisdom literature and prophets, but I want to take a brief pause to consider something that I think is rather significant in the Creation narrative that plays off of the idea of justice. This might be somewhat brief, but I think it's worth the detour because, if I'm right in how I'm reading this, it grounds the idea of injustice in the narrative of the Fall. This isn't news; obviously mistreatment of any kind is a fruit of sin and not of righteousness. But I think there's a subtle hint in the actual narrative itself of what is to come.

If we read through the account in Genesis 2 of Adam naming the animals and, following, the creation of the woman, we get a sense that there is an equality, a sharing, a completion that happens when the woman comes on the scene. We hear the amazement in Adam's voice as he speaks of her as "bone of my bones and flesh of my flesh," the wonder of who God has created to share his life. We hear echoes of chapter 1 when we are told that God created humans in God's image as both male and female, and we get a sense that together they are in the image of God moreso than either on his or her own. To that end, when Adam calls her "woman", there is a sense of honor and beauty and wonder at this one who is like and yet unlike, and amazing for being so.

Names are powerful things. Names mean things - anyone who fails to understand why things like inclusive language are significant probably fails to understand the significance of names. Names are signs of authority; if I can name you, I in some sense have a power over you, a power to grant life or choke it. Anyone who has been on the receiving end of either a powerful blessing of a great name or a terrible burden of a shameful one knows what I mean. I try always to speak to my boys in words that give life, because I never want them to grow up under the pain and shame of an identity crafted out of harsh words. Most times I succeed, and for the times that I fail I pray for God's grace.

Adam, I think, fails miserably in chapter 3. After all of the wretched happenings of the narrative, we get this one small comment that carries tremendous significance - "Adam named his wife Eve, because she would become the mother of all the living." Here, I think, is the first fruit of broken relationship of the Fall. Although Adam has called her "woman" before, now he names her personally, in essence claiming the position of domination that she has been cursed to live under. By naming her, he says in no uncertain terms that he has authority over her. And notice that the name he chooses in this particular context reflects closely what she has been cursed to bear - her name will remind her always of the pain that she must face as a result of their sin.

So what does this have to do with justice? I think that in some sense we see here that the immediate fruit of sin in the context of the narrative is the domination of one person over another. It is a fruit that we carry, each of us, to this day. When we act in ways that proclaim domination, we perpetuate the fruit of the curse. When we act in ways that proclaim submission and service, we proclaim the Kingdom, something that we won't truly begin to see in the biblical narrative until the coming of the second Adam, who breaks the curse and calls us back to full humanity.

Social Responsibility in the Torah

It seems to me that the most logical place to begin to think through a biblical approach to justice and mercy would be at the beginning, so that is where we shall take our first step - specifically by looking at how these themes come to life in the Torah. I think often we who approach the Hebrew scriptures from a Christian perspective fail to grasp how truly revolutionary the Torah actually was. We find it difficult to read Leviticus sans Romans or Deuteronomy outside of Galatians and so tend to dismiss it as a burden, as bondage, as something that had to be for a little while so that we could truly appreciate our sinfulness and the freedom that Christ brings. I would argue though that Paul, as well as Jesus, had a profound respect for the Torah that we miss to our detriment. The Torah is where we first begin to see something of God's revelation and so something of His character, and for this reason we would do well to listen closely to what it may have to say.

What made the Torah such a remarkable text was not simply that it created a means whereby God might dwell among people without incinerating them, although that is certainly an upside to the whole affair. In order to appreciate what is happening here we must absolutely keep in the back of our minds that this was primarily an instruction manual for a community, not for individuals. It defined how society was to work and how individuals within that society were to relate to each other. With this perspective, then, we begin to see something different than perhaps we otherwise would find. "An eye for an eye," for example, is not a vengeful declaration as it might be read today. Rather, it is a boundary that says, "This far and no more!" Revenge is tempered by justice, held in check to prevent hostility and escalation.

Once we find this perspective, it immediately becomes apparent that something quite remarkable is taking place. The pages of the Torah are filled, absolutely filled, with God's concern for the alien, the fatherless, and the widow. The Torah places a communal responsibility on the people of Israel to see that the alien, the fatherless, and the widow receive provision and protection. The boundaries are set in place for those of privilege to say, "This far and no more!" in their dealings with those on the margins of Israelite society. In fact, Deuteronomy goes so far as to call curses on those who withhold justice from these people. More than that, the Torah places specific responsibility on the community to care for those who are unable to provide for themselves - among God's people, none are to be left behind or forgotten (to borrow from Lilo and Stitch).

Perhaps what should catch our attention most as it relates to the question of where our responsibility as Christians lies should be specifically the instructions on care for the alien, the foreigner who has chosen the land of Israel as his or her home. For those of us who are accustomed to living in a society that guards private property rights, it is incredibly difficult to make the transition to the Torah mindset. One's identity and standing in Hebrew culture were closely tied to the land itself. We'll look at this in more detail in my next post, but for now recognize that the other two groups mentioned were those most likely to lose possession of the land their family possessed. The alien, however, was in the position of having no land allotment - even land that might come into his or her possession was to revert back to the original family during the celebration of Jubilee. So the alien was truly a transient person in some sense of the word, having no place of permanence in the grand scheme of society as instructed by God.

This, then, should cause our ears to perk up a bit when we read of God's instructions for care of the alien. The foreigner was to have much of the same rights as the Hebrew - even though he or she had no inheritance. And why did God give these instructions? It was because of the Israelites' former status as aliens and strangers in the land of Egypt! They were to take care of the foreigner because God remembered them when they were in captivity in a hostile land. God specifically draws the boundaries for justice and mercy wide, encompassing even those who were outside of the people of Israel. And for those of us who are also known as aliens and strangers, how much more should we draw the boundaries wide, as we were once captives ourselves.

Some Initial Thoughts

Before I begin my thoughts on the topic of biblical justice, I wanted to put a few things on the table. First, let me be quite clear about one thing - I am not a student of biblical languages. I have a passing familiarity with Greek, enough to find my way around a dictionary and figure out which words are the verbs and which are the nouns and so forth. With Hebrew, well, I know that it reads right to left and that there are no vowels, which is rather unhelpful for where I want to go. So here is the limitation that I want to be honest about at the outset - I am going to be reading as a reader of modern English, looking more for themes and movements than trying to convey deep linguistic insights from the original languages.

The second thought that I've had as I began to read through some things tonight is that justice is a loaded word that means different things to different people. To be honest, I'm really thinking of several different things that to my mind typically get lumped together into one category that represents (for my purposes) a Christian response to marginalized persons. By this, I mean in particular how do we treat those who have been discarded by society, who have been deemed disposable in our recycled world? This too is difficult to think through, not least in part because I am a young white male trying to understand in some sense a world that I have never personally experienced. I live in a sanitized world of suburban residences and shopping centers. To talk this way feels dishonest somehow, as though I were running for office. But I think that specifically because I have the modest suburban lifestyle that I have, I also have a responsibility to think honestly and biblically about what that means for me as a person of relative privilege in a broken world.

Thus far, two things seem to be unfolding as I read, two themes that come together into a God-shaped response to the issues that I mentioned. One is what I would typically think of as justice in a technical sense - we collectively have a responsibility to make sure that those with wealth, power, and position do not unfairly manipulate those who do not. The other is what I would term mercy - we also collectively have a responsibility to make sure that those who are in need have those needs addressed. It seems to me that as we watch these themes mingle and unfold in the biblical accounts that we learn something true and beautiful about God and about us - but I am getting ahead of myself.

Reflections on Justice

We've been having some interesting conversations about biblical authority over at Bill's site. Bill is reflecting on an article by N.T. Wright that Mike recommended here sometime last week. An excellent read, I must say - thanks to Mike for pointing it out.

One thing that somehow came up in the discussion was the issue of social justice and whether we as Christians are required to seek and practice it outside of the Church (big "C"). To a lot of folks, this would seem to be a no-brainer, but I want to be fair to the topic and to the commenter who asked for specific biblical passages related to social justice. I can't in good conscience just dismiss the statement, because then I would be guilty of the sort of theological obstructionism that comes of assuming one's viewpoint to be that of scripture, which reduces conversation to competing claims of what is obvious, self-apparent, and just plain right. So my plans are, for the next few posts, to walk through what I see to be a very prominent plot thread, so to speak, in the tapestry of the biblical narrative on the subjects of justice, mercy, and love. I'm going to try to assume nothing, but recognizing that such an assumption of neutrality is doomed nearly from the start, please offer your critiques of my thoughts where they go astray. Hopefully this will be more than a theoretical exercise and we will find ourselves challenged by the radical love of God for a fallen humanity.