Solidarity as particular commitment to the poor, suffering, and marginalized

One aspect of the praxis of solidarity that both John Paul II and Jon Sobrino agree upon is the primary importance of solidarity as a commitment to the poor and vulnerable.

13 Sobrino, “A Theology of Christian Solidarity,” 5.

In Sollicitudo Rei Socialis, John Paul II insists that solidarity is valid when members of the community recognize each other as persons, and as a result,

Those who are more influential, because they have a greater share of goods and common services, should feel responsible for the weaker and be ready to share with them all they possess. Those who are weaker, for their part, in the same spirit of solidarity, should not adopt a purely passive attitude or one that is destructive of the social fabric, but, while claiming their legitimate rights, should do what they can for the good of all.¹⁴

In the typically general and theoretical language that is common in papal encyclicals, John Paul effectively argues that one of the first movements of solidarity ought to directly address the consequences of sin, which are suffered most poignantly by those who have been excluded, marginalized, or victimized in the human community. There is an ur-gency and priority in solidarity to respond to the needs of those who are suffering the most severe consequences of sin.

The analog to this movement in the work of Jon Sobrino is to begin by commit-ting oneself to reality, which in El Salvador has meant to be committed to the reality in which the vast majority of people live very close to death as opposed to the relatively few who have enjoyed the abundance of life. Perhaps due to his formation in Ignatian spiritu-ality, his spiritual and methodological commitment to the historical Jesus, or simply due to his intimate friendships with the martyrs of El Salvador, Sobrino argues that the poor are the privileged locus for the manifestation of God—as evidenced by the historical in-carnation, praxis, and death of Jesus. As we have discussed, the Congregation for the Doctrine of Faith has formally criticized Sobrino for this position as being “not in con-formity with the doctrine of the Church,” which holds the Church itself as the proper

14 Sollicitudo Rei Socialis §39.

foundation, and presumably the proper location, for all theological reflection. It is worth noting here that the poor and the Church are not necessarily opposed, as the CDF’s Noti-fication implies. If the Church understands itself to be a Church of the poor, as Arch-bishop Romero contended, then the locus of theological reflection in El Salvador, at least, would be precisely among the poor.

The CDF’s critique aside, however, both Sobrino and John Paul II, as we have seen, take the commitment to the reality of sin and its consequences very seriously. The appropriate response to the reality of sin and its destructive consequences is not to flee from it, however, but to engage it directly. This is the sentiment behind the first two di-mensions of solidarity as a spiritual exercise: the impulse that one must physically place oneself in the context of ongoing suffering, where victimization and marginalization are the identifiable consequences of social and interpersonal sin. This also resonates with the kenotic impulses of the Christian incarnation and Jesus’ crucifixion, as well as with the challenge of discipleship in which Jesus invites his disciples to pick up their crosses and follow him.¹⁵ In short, the suffering poor have an ethical priority and an urgent need for kenotic engagement in pursuit of Christian solidarity. Solidarity with the poor and marginalized will be physically and spiritually demanding on the non-poor, requiring an emptying of self that is appropriate for followers of Jesus Christ.

15 Christine Firer Hinze claims that the praxis of “incarnational solidarity”—the yet undeveloped thread woven throughout Gaudium et Spes—requires this very immersion of self into the reality of sin:

The solidarity Gaudium et Spes urges cannot remain simply an ideal, or an interior attitude. It in-volves the immersion of bodies, the expenditure of time and energies in the midst of the blood, sweat, and tears of the real world, in practices of presence and service. Incarnational solidarity entails cultivating con-crete, habitual ways of acknowledging our we-ness by being with the neighbor, especially the suffering and needy neighbor. Hinze, 174.

This is an important contribution that Sobrino makes to the official Catholic social tradition. If solidarity is going to be a praxis, a spiritual exercise, then it requires those who wish to engage in it to physically enter into the places and situations where people are suffering; to seek relationship with; to engage those who are suffering with merciful and generous compassion; and to listen to them articulate their own hopes for liberation.

Solidarity will not be effective in overcoming the poignant social challenges of the day unless the persons who seek to offer assistance actually meet with people affected, con-front the reality of the sinful situation first-hand (and consider their own role in its propa-gation) and together imagine and work toward creating the conditions by which those who are suffering are able to participate with others in liberation from the sinful condi-tions.¹⁶

One of the most interesting implications of understanding solidarity as spiritual exercise is that the poor, the marginalized, and the neglected become the mediators of God’s grace to the non-poor. Not in an instrumentalized or objectified way – as those who engage in traditional works-righteousness acts of charity and generosity might sug-gest. But rather, the fulfillment of the spiritual exercise of solidarity depends on the fact the poor and the marginalized who have long suffered the consequences of objectification and dehumanization through the direct and indirect actions of the non-poor, have the

16 Hinze writes:

“…incarnational solidarity involves a humble, kenotic posture that can help traverse divisions caused by disparities of power. To truly be “for” in a way that avoids paternalism, sentimentality, or a protected and aloof throwing of alms to the poor, whom we want to keep their distance, re-quires a praxis of humble presence and collaboration. Practices of solidarity must honor what Pe-ter-Hans Kolvenbach calls “the logic of the incarnation, whereby Jesus did not cling to his divine station, but emptied himself of every privilege in order to be one of many.” Such practices make the goal of doing “for” another attainment of mutuality, of communion, or at least the potential thereof. Thus understood, solidarity has a hierarchy-melting, deeply egalitarian thrust.” (Hinze 175)

portunity to be agents of grace and love to those who might never have otherwise ex-pected that to be possible. The poor will save the rich, Sobrino has argued, by offering them the forgiveness that is acceptance; by embracing the rich at a moment when they have become painfully aware of their own complicity in the sin whose consequences have been the suffering and dehumanization of others. If the third moment in the spiri-tual exercise of solidarity cultivates a sense of desolation, sinfulness, and unworthiness, then the embrace of the poor offering forgiveness and love is nothing short of the em-brace of God incarnated in the least likely of bodies.

If the goal of solidarity as spiritual exercise is to recognize and experience in one another the gratuitous love of God, then the final (one might argue the fifth) movement of solidarity entails expressing this love in common efforts to create social structures that honor and preserve the inherent value and worth of all persons—to create community such that God might recognize it in God’s Reign. The result will not be a homogenized community that flattens differences and makes everyone the same, but instead a commu-nity that has created bridges to bring persons together who would otherwise be separated by the consequences of sin; a community of solidarity will foster unity and mutuality among diverse and unique persons.¹⁷