I was reading a favorite periodical when I spotted the
headline with a word that I don’t think I had ever seen. The headline read: “The ‘Precariat:’ stressed
out, insecure, alienated and angry.” I’m
not sure I had ever seen “precariat.” I
could guess what it meant. The opening
line of the article assured me I knew its meaning.
“Inequality. Class
fragmentation. Social and economic
exclusion.” Those words paint an
unfortunate picture. And that’s just the
point. The author of the article, Vinnie
Rotondaro, is writing about the world’s large and growing group of people
living precarious lives right above the poverty line. This clearly does not include me; I have been
very fortunate. But that only means that
I need to know about this sad phenomenon and see it for the spiritual issue it
is, alongside being an economic and political issue.
The author makes use of much of the scholarly work being
done by Guy Standing, a British economist, who is Professor of Development
Studies at the School of Oriental and African Studies at the University of
London. His work is new to me and pretty
impressive. Standing suggests there is a
new “emerging social class” that is “defining
the new normal in societies across the world” and that class he calls the
precariat.
Standing
elaborates in a helpful fashion. “The
lives of people in the precariat are defined by precariousness, or
‘precarity,’ he says. They experience pervasive economic insecurity and
uncertainty, inconsistent work and labor relations, and increasingly, a lack of
control over time.” As I read this, I am
aware I know many people whose lives are characterized by this kind of
precarity. I don’t see them in my sphere
of work. I see them on the margin of my
work.
I
see them sometimes at McDonald’s when I stop for coffee. I overhear tidbits of their lives that
suggest way more precariousness than I have to experience. Many folks have that kind of economic
security. They remind me of the migrants
who descended on tomato fields in my boyhood Indiana. They also were marginal to my normal
world. While they were not on my
farm---we did not have tomatoes---they were on the edges of my town and my
life. And then, they were gone---often
on north to Michigan to pick fruit in the autumn.
And
so I realize I have been exposed to precarity all my life. Apparently those numbers are growing very
fast. And I don’t doubt it. And they are going to affect the world much
more than those migrants ever affected my life.
Standing estimates that the number in this group in many countries is
approaching 405---that is countries like Spain and Italy.
The
new awareness that I bring to this is an awareness I did not have in my
youthful Indiana days. That awareness is
that precarity is also a spiritual issue.
I realize this can be subtle, since the economic and political facets
are usually much more visible. But it is
also spiritual. Let’s develop this a
little bit.
A
key component of spiritual is the inherent dignity and worth of an
individual. For those of us who grew up
in the Jewish and Christian traditions, this inherent dignity and worth of
human beings is grounded in the very creation story of Genesis. Adam---and all human beings---is created in
the image and likeness of the Holy One.
We are icons of the Divinity Itself.
We
are called “very good” at our creation.
Many of us who have children know this creative pride when we see the
ones we bring into the world. No sane
parent looks at his or her little one and thinks, “What a piece of worthless
junk!” No parent wants his or her child
to grow up in a situation of precarity---on the edge and brink of all kinds of
disasters. We know we are vulnerable,
but no one wants someone else to be hurt.
But
that’s exactly what seems to be happening around our globe. Our way of living is causing countless others
to the margin. The way the world is
functioning puts people in precarious ways of living. When I see this as a spiritual issue, it
means I have to find a way to care. Caring
is the easiest form of love. If you
can’t care, there is no love in your heart.
So
if I claim to be spiritual, then I am on the hook to care. And if I care, then I necessarily have to
find a way to share. Caring and sharing
are bedrock spiritual ways of living in our world. Of course, they are very general
statements. Each one of us has to find
specific and particular ways to express the caring and sharing. I am not part of the plutocracy---the .0001%
who own a huge portion of the world’s wealth.
I can’t do it their way.
I
probably don’t have enough money to share in a way that makes much difference
except for a very few individuals. But I
can work to change the situation. And I
can join others to make a bigger difference.
This is a ministry I willingly take on.
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