Archives For William Wilberforce

Last week, in the first part of this series on the Lausanne Movement and what it has to teach us about faith, development, justice and peace, we took a look at René Padilla’s presentation. Now we turn to Peruvian theologian Samuel Escobar, whose theme is “Evangelization and Man’s Search for Freedom, Justice, and Fulfillment.”

Samuel Escobar begins his presentation by appealing to the decision made by the organizers of the gathering to choose as a motto the words of Jesus in the synagogue, found in Luke 4:

The Spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim liberty to the captives and recovering of sight to the blind, to set at liberty those who are oppressed, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.

He then urges his listeners to take these words seriously, which is to say, not to overly spiritualize the message. In a world with  millions suffering from literal poverty, captivity, blindness and oppression, these words aren’t just about spiritual poverty or captivity to sin. There are a lot of Christians in the world, Escobar says, who take these words seriously, and they find themselves in far flung corners of the world and near centers of power, following Christ accordingly. But many of them face strong pressure from other Christians, of all people, to change course:

Some of them have been criticized and told that they should abandon their efforts for the pursuit only of numerical growth of congregations. I hope they will not believe that such is the official position of the [Lausanne] Congress.

As we saw last week, Padilla also critiqued the pursuit of numerical growth as an end in itself, represented most clearly in the church growth movement that has given rise to many of the megachurches across the country and around the world. Escobar was warning against numerical growth at the expense of discipleship, creating a “consumer class” of Christians who were uninterested in the personal and social implications of submitting to the Lordship of Christ. He saw discipleship as essential, and he saw churches as the indispensable communities where discipleship happens:

I think that the first and powerful answer to the social and political needs of men, to the search for freedom, justice, and fulfillment, is given by Jesus in his own work and in the church… [In the church] Jesus creates a new people, a new community where these problems are dealt with under the Lordship of Christ.

What he was calling for may have cut across the grain of many at that time, but it was really nothing new for evangelicals. He pointed to John Wesley, the well-known evangelist who authored a book called Thoughts upon Slavery, calling for abolition long before it became reality, and long before it was a popular idea. For Wesley, evangelism and social issues like slavery belonged hand in hand:

In today’s language, we could say that for Wesley, development without social justice was unacceptable. I pray that God will raise in this Congress evangelists like Wesley, who also care about social evils enough as to do research and write about them and throw the weight of their moral and spiritual authority on the side of the correction of injustices. Wesley, however, did more than writing. He encouraged the political action that eventually was going to abolish slavery in England.

Shortly before he died, Wesley wrote to William Wilberforce, urging him to use his political position to push for the abolition of slavery, something Wilberforce eventually succeeded in doing, giving us a powerful example to follow. But while evangelicals have every reason to stand with the oppressed, we must remember that political liberation and the freedom offered in the gospel are two distinct things, Escobar says:

Simple liberation from human masters is not the freedom of which the Gospel speaks. Freedom in Christian terms means subjection to Jesus Christ as Lord, deliverance from bondage to sin and Satan… However, the heart which has been made free with the freedom of Christ cannot be indifferent to the human longings for deliverance from economic, political, or social oppression.

Escobar points also to a contemporary evangelical leader who recognized this connection: world-famous evangelist Billy Graham, who made it his policy to refuse to speak to segregated audiences. As you can imagine, this was quite an unpopular move with many in his “target market” at the time:

He did not downgrade the demands of the Gospel in order to have access to a greater number of hearers or in order to have the blessing of racists that would consider themselves ‘fundamental Christians.’ A stance like this is already communicating something about the nature of the Gospel that gives credibility to the Gospel itself when it is announced… To perpetuate segregation for the sake of numerical growth, arguing that segregated churches grow faster, is for me yielding to the sinfulness or society, refusing to show a new and unique way of life.

Escobar has a lot more to say than what I’ve mentioned here, and just like Padilla’s message, it’s all as timely as ever. He finishes on an eschatological high note:

We reaffirm our hope that the Kingdom may come soon in fullness. But as an evidence of that hope we should also reaffirm our willingness to be the community of disciples of Christ which tries to demonstrate in the context of development or underdevelopment, affluence or poverty, democracy or dictatorship, that there is a different way for men to live together dealing with passions, power, relations, inequality, and privilege; that we are not only able to proclaim that ‘the end is at hand’ but also to encourage one another in the search to make this world a bit less unjust and cruel, as an evidence of our expectation of a new creation.

I join Escobar in asking: Do we stand with the rich or with the poor? Do we usually stand with oppressors or with the oppressed? Where do we stand when we preach the gospel?

[Photo credit: keywordpicture.com - Escobar speaking at Urbana 03, which I attended, though it was before I realized what a rock star he is.]

[Part 6 of 6 in my review of the Seek Social Justice study from the Heritage Foundation and WORLD Magazine]

This section is about how all the previous parts of the puzzle fit together. The crucial point is made that it doesn’t work to seek social justice in abstract generalities, opposing “injustice” and on the side of “the poor.” Rather, social justice is about specific people, specific events, and specific actions. They translate this to mean that casting blame on “structures” doesn’t solve our neighbors’ needs. This is partly true; expecting a focus on abstract oppressive “structures” to produce justice is certainly naive. But behind structures are real people making real decisions that have real ramifications for real people. To ignore structures and pretend that being a good neighbor to the person next door will solve everything is equally naive, in my opinion.


Again, I’m in agreement with what they hammer home over and over again in this concluding section, the idea of concentric circles: the closer you are the better you understand the person and the issues they face, and the better equipped you are to respond compassionately and appropriately. I definitely think that grassroots efforts in most cases are smarter and more effective than bloated top-down ones. And as is pointed out, love isn’t something the government can offer – it’s something people extend to other people in a mutually enriching way.

One of the contributors cites Mother Teresa, who said that if you look at many, you won’t act. If you look at one, however, you will. Now, I have a world of respect for Mother Teresa and I think the way she lived her life looked a lot like Jesus. But the fact is, while much of the time we can indeed be faithful Christians by loving the neighbor and the enemy immediately around us, I think there does come a time to set our sights higher – without disregarding those fundamental parts of the Christian life. When injustices are ingrained in society and protected by law, followers of Christ can’t be content to allow the “structures” to remain untouched. We can thank God that spiritual giants like William Wilberforce and William Carey, among countless others, didn’t settle for the unjust structures in their day. They were undoubtedly committed to loving their immediate neighbors in great and small ways, but it didn’t end there for them. [Interestingly, in the recommended resources at the end of the study, a book about Wilberforce is recommended, but how his life example supports their framework is left to the imagination.]

If we’re truly concerned about social justice in a real, lasting way, libertarian “hands off” values alone won’t get us there, and it’s at this point, I suppose, that I part ways with the makers of this study. Of course, digging in and figuring out why crimes like sex trafficking and economic exploitation continue unabated is no substitute for small acts of love. If we had to choose between addressing oppressive structures and loving our neighbors, I’d choose loving neighbors in a heartbeat. But that’s a false choice. We don’t have to choose, and indeed, we can’t afford to.

So we come to the end of the study, and as I reflect on it as a whole, I suspect that one of the goals behind it was to redefine “social justice” for an audience not necessarily predisposed very favorably towards the term. The cynic in me worries that it’s merely an attempt to co-opt the word, to cheapen it. The optimist in me – who I diligently try to pay more attention to – is hopeful that it will serve to get more people talking about these substantial things and in turn, more people will be getting their hands dirty in the hard and important work of seeking social justice. God knows we need all the help we can get.

One thing remains clear. Seeking social justice will not be easy. It will take all of us making sacrifices, getting personally involved, crossing boundaries we haven’t dared to cross before. I’ve affirmed much of the study’s message, and I’ve voiced my concerns. But whatever you take away from the series, disagreements aside, however you decide to seek social justice, please:

Make it real.

Make it personal.

Join others.

Allow the process to transform you.

And don’t be afraid of what might happen next.