I attend church regularly. I see myself not so much as a person of faith, but more as one of need, and now and then it offers me a clarification that I find worth sharing. One of those moments occurred last fall when I first heard a hymn by British hymnist Brian Wren, “Spirit of Jesus, If I Love My Neighbor” (find the full text at hymnary.org/text/spirit_of_jesus_if_i_love_my_neighbor). 

It doesn’t feel good to feel helpless. It especially doesn’t feel good if the reason you need help is because systems and groups have put you at an unfair disadvantage. And what do people do when something doesn’t feel good? Sometimes they become angry and resentful and push back.

At the same time, people of good will want to help those in need, but most also want to be appreciated.

Human nature. Overcoming it rarely occurs without significant, uncomfortable intentionality.

Hymnist Wren writes, “if [I have the] knowledge, leisure, power, or wealth, [to help others] help me to understand the shame and anger of helplessness that hates my power to help.” The power of these lines comes not in the supplication to Christ (omitted here), but in the psychology behind the needs of the two sides to this fraught equation—the needy and those with more power. Wren has really cut to the chase.

In the second stanza Wren’s supplicant seeks to grow asking that “if, when I have answered need with kindness, my neighbor rises, wakened from despair, keep me from flinching, when the cry for justice requires of me the changes that I fear.” It is one thing to feed the hungry, quite another to change the system that left them hungry (and me full).

In the third stanza comes the call to action. “If I am hugging safety or possessions, uncurl my spirit…to join my neighbours, work for liberation.” It is not enough to care, one needs to work. This is true whether in a faith community or the wider secular community.

Bam! This hymn hit me like a ton of bricks. I’ve heard many kind, generous white people grumble when their acts of true kindness were not received with “enough” gratitude. “What? I worked hard to serve a meal at the food kitchen and they didn’t eat it all!” (Subtext: They are so ungrateful!) “What? I volunteered at a homeless shelter and everyone kept asking for ‘special favors!’” (Subtext: We gave them a warm, safe place to sleep. Why isn’t it good enough? Beggars can’t be choosers.) How often do men, whites, or Americans broadly resist, resist, and resist changes which will increase equity, but may reduce their advantage or the availability of a good thing? “What? I can’t fish for walleye whenever I want to?” (Subtext: ...and the Ojibwa can!) “What? That job went to a woman?” (Subtext: ...instead of a man!) “What? My child was not accepted by her or his college of first choice!” (Subtext: Some less qualified minority must have taken their spot!) Add your own examples. Systemic inequity has been the standard for so long that it has become invisible to most who benefit from it. People care, but there is a cost.

It can be hard to be more inclusive. The pie isn’t growing and we need more pieces. Justice isn’t always easy, but we must try not to fear it.