From a Public Justice perspective

It takes a minute or two to realize that the painting you’re looking at is also a hubcap. To see that there is a one-tonne iron bomb from a B-2 Spirit hovering over the head of Toronto Maple Leafs leftwinger Derek King. It looks like a halo. Instead it’s the droppings of a stealth bomber, one that can carry nuclear weapons. The U.S. Air Force describes it as bringing “massive firepower to bear, in a short time, anywhere on the globe through previously impenetrable defenses.”

The B-2 made its mark during Nato attacks of the former Yugoslavia when Slobodan Milosevic wouldn’t step down. That was the early spring of 1999. One of those attacks happened on March 24, to be exact, the night the Leafs were soundly defeated by the San José Sharks 8 to 5. Perhaps tongue in cheek or tears on cheeks, artist James Paterson uses the word slaughter to describe both events. And he invokes Isaiah 34 to give context.

“Come hear, you nations and listen; pay attention you peoples; let the earth hear and all that is in it the world and all that comes out of it! The Lord is angry with all the nations; his wrath is upon all their armies. He will totally destroy them and given them over to slaughter. Their slain will be thrown out.”

These are harsh words, but the context dips between war and sport – the world vs. Milosevic; the Leafs vs. the Sharks.

It’s difficult and liberating to look at the art of James Paterson. And both is in his perspective that takes the issue of the day – the world event – with the regularly scheduled game – and makes links.

It’s an artist’s perspective. And perspective is the theme here. Perspective is the business of the Public Justice Resource Centre and of Citizens for Public Justice. And of course, the lens of our common perspective – holding our differences, balancing our tensions, providing a shared vision of the common good – is public justice.

Public justice is the banner under which the Public Justice Resource Centre does research and education, distilling the foundational values in policy discussions, animating emerging themes in public discourse, and creating documents that bring the light of faith to these values and current topics. And public justice is the standard under which Citizens for Public Justice promotes particular policy alternatives, providing the way forward for public engagement, direct advocacy to decision-makers, political interventions. Two approaches, two mandates, one perspective from which to go forward.

One perspective and yet always a different way forward. These days, with so much distrust of government and cynicism about the political process, the focus of PJRC and CPJ has embraced ever more widely the responsibility of all institutions and groups in society to reflect the common good. PJRC has given workshops on the circles of society and how policy change flows between different spheres. And CPJ’s ongoing championing of an economy of care brings in business, labour, civil society groups, families to name a few, in addition to the role of government in making and regulating policy.

But while this is true and necessary, the two organizations also keep a strong and central focus on the role and possibilities of the political system and especially of the role of government. Without strong government, we cannot have strong and visionary policy. And despite the real causes of cynicism, apathy, withdrawal, we cannot have strong government and that vision, without citizen participation. That is because the choice of public justice is more than individual. It is a communal decision to favour all instead of some. And it is a political decision. It calls for engagement, for debate, for respectfully listening to each other. And for considering the consequences of policies not only on the majority, but also on the vulnerable and the marginalized.

It’s a hard choice sometimes, to continually don the perspective of public justice. Despite the inherent goodness of creation and the bounty of this fine country, the public mood can swing hard to cynicism. Sometimes to intolerance. Or to apathy when it seems solutions are impossible, and there’s no room to engage. We’ve all experienced this in spades – the volleying between hope and being let down, between wanting to believe the good can be served and then finding out about a scandal, a misuse of funds, an abuse of power – or how the muckraking of political parties scrabbling for the media spotlight distorts the underlying issues. Change can seem impossible. Hope seems naïve. We can feel powerless. And voices we don’t recognize as our own speak again and again about what the public wants.

But our faith calls out beyond this truth to a greater one. Faith that opens us to our common humanity. “Concerning love of the brothers and sisters, you do not need to have anyone write to you, for you yourselves have been taught by God to love one another (I Thess. 4:9).” We don the perspective of public justice knowing that despite what we have in common, there are significant differences among us. And that this is not a deterrent. We can share a vision because we will not be lured into false dichotomies, or black and white positions when they are not necessary. We see the need for healing steps to be taken. Real people are suffering real hardships that concrete policies and prophetic vision can alleviate. And that must be our choice. That is the call of public justice.

Our choice is also to go beyond the comfortable and the personal. It is to wade into the issues of society-at-large where we stand with our neighbours, even if we’ve never met, even if their problems are not ours. And that is why issues of poverty have always been a focus of PJRC and of CPJ both. That is why Aboriginal Canadians have found an ally in the pluralism that public justice demands – because differences can and must be accommodated in our society, for the good of us all. And that is why support of refugees in limbo has emerged as a core area – because those persecuted or forced to flee their own countries and now trying to make a new life should not be kept in red tape without cause.

Perspective is at one constant and yet constantly shifting. It can be a particular viewpoint, A large-enough canvas to take in all the angles. A way of seeing the world.

Artists like James Paterson, who calls himself “an observer of things,” “one who trusts in God,” and one “who believes the final victory will also be a surprise upset, to some,” have a particular perspective that opens up connections previously unseen and sharpens awareness perhaps only hovering fuzzily on the edges of our consciousness.

And perspective can be used as a deliberate lens to forge a way forward through the cynicism, the hopelessness and the overwhelming possibilities. That is the choice, each in its own work, each in its own mandate, of Citizens for Public Justice and the Public Justice Resource Centre.