Building Global Justice: We Are the Ones We Have Been Waiting For Stanford Baccalaureate Address June 12, 2004 By Jim Wallis Good Morning. I am grateful to the graduates for the opportunity to address you today on this great occasion. My title is "Building Global Justice" OR "We Are the Ones We Have Been Waiting For." Let me begin with a story, about another occasion when I was invited to speak - not for the Baccalaureate address at a major university, but for the inmates at Sing Sing Prison in upstate New York. The invitation letter came from the prisoners themselves and it sounded like a good idea. So I wrote back asking when they wanted me to come. In his return letter, the young Sing Sing resident replied, "Well, we're free most nights! We're kind of a captive audience here." Arrangements were made, and the prison officials were very generous in giving us a room deep in the bowels of that infamous prison facility - just me and about 80 guys for four hours. I will never forget what one of those young prisoners said to me that night, "Jim, all of us at Sing Sing are from only about five neighborhoods in New York City. It's like a train. You get on the train when you are about 9 or 10 years old. And the train ends up here at Sing Sing." Many of these prisoners were students too, studying in a very unique program of the New York Theological Seminary to obtain their Master of Divinity degree - behind the walls of the prison. They graduated when their sentences were up (of course, none of you feel that way). Here's what that young man at Sing Sing told me he would do upon his graduation: "When I get out, I'm going to go back and stop that train." Now that is exactly the kind of faith and hope we desperately need today from the graduates of Sing Sing, and the graduates of Stanford. When I was growing up, it was continually repeated in my evangelical Christian world that the greatest battle and biggest choice of our time was between belief and secularism. But I now believe that the real battle, the big struggle of our times, is the fundamental choice between cynicism and hope. The choice between cynicism and hope is ultimately a spiritual choice; and one which has enormous political consequences. More than just a moral issue; hope is a spiritual and even religious choice. Hope is not a feeling; it is a decision. And the decision for hope is based upon what you believe at the deepest levels - what your most basic convictions are about the world and what the future holds - all based upon your faith. You choose hope, not as a naïve wish, but as a choice, with your eyes wide open to the reality of the world - just like the cynics who have not made the decision for hope. And the realities of our world are these: almost half the world, close to three billion people, live on less than 2 dollars a day; and more than one billion live on less than 1 dollar a day. And every day, 30,000 children die needlessly due to utterly preventable causes like hunger, disease, and things like the lack of safe drinking water - things we could change if we ever decided to. For the first time in history we have the information, knowledge, technology, and resources to bring the worst of global poverty virtually to an end. What we don't have is the moral and political will to do so. And it is becoming clear that it will take a new moral energy to create that political will. Malcolm Gladwell in his best - selling book, The Tipping Point, talks of how an idea, product, or behavior moves from the edges of a society to broad acceptance, consumption, or practice. Along the way there is a "tipping point" that transforms a minority perception to a majority embrace. Today, a sizable and growing number of individuals and institutions have identified the deep chasm of global poverty as their central moral concern and have made significant commitments to overcome the global apathy that leads to massive suffering and death. But we have not yet reached the tipping point - when the world demands solutions. I believe the religious communities of the world could provide the "tipping point" in the struggle to eliminate the world's most extreme poverty. The most astute observers of the issue now realize that only a new moral, spiritual, and even religious sensibility, in relation to the problems of global poverty, will enable us to reach that critical tipping point. Even some of the world's political leaders who are focused on this question (whether they themselves are religious or not), are coming to realize the need for a moral imperative. In a 2004 speech to a conference of mostly faith - based development agencies in the UK, British Chancellor of the Exchequer, Gordon Brown, gave a sobering report on how the world was failing to keep the promises of the United Nations Millennium Development Goals in the crucial areas of education, health, and targeted poverty reduction. Despite the commitments made by 147 nations to cut extreme poverty in half by the year 2015, global progress is significantly behind schedule. As to the causes of the 30,000 infant deaths which still occur each day in the poorest parts of the world, Brown pointed to our moral apathy, "And let us be clear: it is not that the knowledge to avoid these infant deaths does not exist; it is not that the drugs to avoid infant deaths do not exist; it is not that the expertise does not exist; it is not that the means to achieve our goals do not exist. It is that the political will does not exist. In the nineteenth century you could say that it was inadequate science, technology and knowledge that prevented us saving lives. Now, with the science, technology and knowledge available, we must face the truth that the real barrier is indifference." New options for public life, and even political policy choices, can be inspired by our best moral and religious traditions; especially when present options are failing some fundamental ethical tests. The eight - century Micah has become my favorite prophet of national and global security. Listen to his prescriptions: "He shall judge between many peoples, and shall arbitrate between strong nations far away; they shall beat their swords into plowshares, and their spears into pruning hooks; nation shall not lift up sword against nation, neither shall they learn war any more; but they shall all sit under their own vines and under their own fig trees, and no one shall make them afraid." Micah is saying, you simply cannot and will not beat "swords into plowshares" (remove the threats of war) until people can "sit under their own vines and fig trees" (have some share in global security). Only then will you remove the fear that leads inextricably to conflict and violence. Several millennia later, Pope Paul VI paraphrased Micah when he said: "If you want peace, work for justice." The prophet's insight is that the possibilities for peace, for avoiding war, even for defeating terrorism, depend also upon everyone having enough for their own security - having a little vine and fig tree. The wisdom of Micah is both prophetic and practical for a time like this. If the tremendous gaps on our planet could be leveled out just a little, nobody would have to be so afraid. Anglican Archbishop Rowan Williams says it well, "There is no security apart from common security." The developed world will never be secure until the developing world also achieves some economic security; America will not be safe until the injustice and despair that fuel the murderous agendas of terrorists has finally been addressed. Poverty is not the only cause of terrorism; it's more complicated than that with roots that are also religious, cultural, and ideological. But unless we drain the swamps of injustice in which the mosquitoes of terrorism breed, we will never overcome the terrorist threat. Micah is pleading with us to go deeper, to the resentments and the angers, the insecurities and injustices embedded in the very structures of the world today. Micah knew we will not overcome violence until everyone has their own vine and fig tree - their own little piece of the global economy, their own small stake in the world, their own share of security for themselves and their families. Because when you have a little patch upon which to build a life, nobody can make you afraid. And it is fear that leads to violence. That spiritual reality is truer today than ever before. Our weapons cannot finally protect us; only a world where most people feel secure will truly be safe for us and our children. There are voices rising up in our world that sound like Micah. I believe they are modern day prophets, often coming from unexpected places. One is the most famous rock singer in the world, the leader of the Irish band U2. Of course, I'm speaking of Bono, who has become a serious and well - informed activist, talking always about Africa and HIV/AIDS. Bono is a spiritual man, though not a churchy person, and often comes to Washington D.C. Bono spoke at the Africare dinner in Washington, to fifteen hundred of the capitol's leaders and media. "Excuse me if I'm a little nervous," Bono apologized, "but I'm not used to speaking to less than 20,000 people!" Then he spoke like a preacher. "So you've been doing God's work, but what's God working on now? What's God working on this year? Two and a half million Africans are going to die of AIDS. What's God working on now? I meet the people who tell me it's going to take an act of God to stop this plague. Well, I don't believe that. I think God is waiting for us to act. In fact, I think that God is on His knees to us..waiting for us to turn around this supertanker of indifference.... waiting for us to recognize that distance can no longer decide who is our neighbor. We can't choose our neighbors anymore. We can't choose the benefits of globalization without some of the responsibilities, and we should remind ourselves that "love thy neighbor" is not advice: it is a command." I can hear the tones of Micah in the voice of Bono and also in Gordon Brown. Now at the beginning of a new century and millennium, I see a new generation of young activists coming of age and committing themselves to build global justice. A rock star, a Chancellor, and young people across the world are all talking about globalization, HIV/AIDS, and reducing global poverty - and all in the prophetic voice of Micah. I am convinced that global poverty reduction will not be accomplished without a spiritual engine, and that history is changed by social movements with a spiritual foundation. That's what's always made the difference - abolition of slavery, women's suffrage, civil rights - they were social movements, but they had a spiritual foundation. This will be no different. So let's turn to you, the graduates. You are a bright, gifted, and committed group of students. There are probably many people who tell you about your potential, and they are right. You are people who could make a real contribution to a movement for global justice. In that regard, I would encourage each of you to think about your vocation more than just your career. And there is a difference. From the outside, those two tracks may look very much alike, but asking the vocational question rather than just considering the career options will take you much deeper. The key is to ask why you might take one path instead of another - the real reasons you would do something more than just because you can. The key is to ask who you really are and want to become. It is to ask what you believe you are supposed to do. Religious or not, I would invite you to consider your calling, more than just the many opportunities presented to graduates of Stanford University. That means connecting your best talents and skills to your best and deepest values; making sure your mind is in sync with your soul as you plot your next steps. Don't just go where you're directed or even invited, but rather where your own moral compass leads you. And don't accept other's notions of what is possible or realistic; dare to dream things and don't be afraid to take risks. You do have great potential, but that potential will be most fulfilled if you follow the leanings of conscience and the language of the heart more than just the dictates of the market, whether economic or political. They want smart people like you to just manage the systems of the world. But rather than managing or merely fitting into systems, ask how you can change them. You're both smart and talented enough to do that. That's your greatest potential. Ask where your gifts intersect with the groaning needs of the world. The antidote to cynicism is not optimism but action. And action is finally born out of hope. Try to remember that. One of the best street organizers I ever met was Lisa Sullivan. Lisa was a young African American woman from Washington DC, a smart kid from a working class family who went to Yale and earned a PhD. But Lisa felt called back to the streets and the forgotten children of color who had won her heart. With unusual intelligence and entrepreneurial skills she was in the process of creating a new network and infrastructure of support for the best youth organizing projects up and down the East Coast. But at the age of 40, Lisa died suddenly of a rare heart ailment. Lisa's legacy is continuing though countless young people who she inspired, challenged, and mentored. But there is one thing she often said to them and to all of us that has stayed with me ever since Lisa died. When people would complain, as they often do, that we don't have any leaders today, or ask where are the Martin Luther Kings now? - Lisa would get angry. And she would declare these words: "We are the ones we have been waiting for!" Lisa was a person of faith. And hers was a powerful call to leadership and responsibility and a deep affirmation of hope. Lisa's words are the commission I want to give to you. It's a commission learned by every person of faith and conscience who has been used to build movements of spiritual and social change. It's a commission that is quite consistent with the virtue of humility, because it is not about taking ourselves too seriously; but rather taking the commission seriously. It's a commission that can only be fulfilled by very human beings, but people who, because of faith and hope, believe that the world can be changed. And it is that very belief that only changes the world. And if not us, who will believe? If not you, who? After all, we are the ones that we have been waiting for. What is really possible? The eleventh chapter of the book of Hebrews says this: "Now faith is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." And my best paraphrase of that for you is this: Hope is believing in spite of the evidence, and then watching the evidence change. Stanford graduates; you are the ones we have been waiting for. Let's give Micah the last word - something to take away with you as you leave from this place and for every step of your journey. "What does the Lord require of you, but to do justice, love kindness, and walk humbly with your God." Thank you and God bless you.
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