THOU SHALT NOT STEAL
Rev. Kathleen A. Green
Summit UU Fellowship
My family and I had just arrived in Hyde Park (a community on the south side of Chicago) and seminary life was upon us. At the First Unitarian Society of Chicago, just across the street from Meadville-Lombard Theological School, I had decided to volunteer on occasional Sunday mornings as an assistant teacher in the Religious Education classes. Anyone who has worked with children knows that the teacher often learns as much, if not more, than her students do! There was one Sunday in particular when being in that classroom brought me back to my own childhood Sunday School days, as these children were learning about the ten commandments from the Hebrew scriptures. On the one hand, I was flooded with wonderful memories and on the other hand, I longed to be a child NOT at Woodland Acres Baptist Church in Tulsa, Oklahoma, but right there at First Unitarian Chicago, where the musically gifted teacher, Miss Lia, brought those formidable commandments to life in an engaging, joyful, and contemporary way. Even thou shalt not kill, thou shalt not steal, and thou shalt not commit adultery! It was truly amazing.
I’m often taken aback when reminded of how irrelevant, unapproachable, or mysterious religious texts can appear to many of us adults, and yet how utterly realistic and literal they can sometimes be to our children.
I heard a story about a little boy who was looking through the pages of an old family bible that he had found in the attic of his grandmother’s home. He was enjoying looking at the beautiful pictures of the stories that he had been learning in his church school classes. As he turned one of the pages a leaf fell out onto the ground. This was a leaf that had been placed in the bible for pressing some years ago. With excitement the little boy cried out, “Grandma, look what I found!”. And from across the room, where she was buy with her morning crossword puzzle she asked, “Well, what is it, dear?” The little boy’s eyes got wide as he pondered this treasure he had discovered, and he replied, “Oh, Grandma, I think it’s Adam’s underwear!”.
Dr. Leonard Felder wrote a book entitled The Ten Challenges, in which he expresses his view that ‘while religious leaders and scholars have been interpreting the Ten Commandments since the time that Moses received them, the Ten Commandments are essential challenges’ that we, in the 21st century, face every day of our lives. They are principles that give us perspective on what really matters in life.
On Labor Day weekend, many of us think mostly, if not entirely, about the end of summer vacation, a day off from school or work, a last weekend get-away before the crazy Fall schedule begins. But this morning, I want to reflect on, and share with you, what I have found to be a very relevant and deeply spiritual meaning of the eighth commandment: Thou Shalt Not Steal. I believe it has a relation to Labor Day and the laborers, our brothers and sisters, whose struggles call out for our response.
Now let me begin by telling you that I nearly skipped that chapter of the book. After all, I thought, other than the time when I was six years old and I stole two pieces of Double Bubble bubble gum from the little general store down the street, I know what “Thou Shalt Not Steal” means. I know the difference between right and wrong. “Thou Shalt Not Steal” – it sounds so obvious! So antiquated! Almost irrelevant to the moral person!
I am grateful for wise and insightful authors such as Dr. Felder, who offer us a dose of reality and invitation to humility. Upon further examination of his book, I learned that the eighth commandment, or eighth challenge, is about integrity. Not so obvious – not at all an antiquated notion – relevant indeed! The actual Hebrew words from Exodus chapter twenty address something much more complex than taking someone else’s property. Integrity comes from the Latin integritas (to be whole or complete), and the Hebrew word for whole, is shalom. It is the same word for peace. Shalom refers to both peace between people and peace within oneself. The Arabic word is Salaam. Felder says, ‘whatever your spiritual practice calls this sense of wholeness and peace, it is the goal of spiritual people and the eighth commandment directs us to this inner peace’.
So consider this: How is it that people steal from others, on a daily basis, and yet aren’t guilty of breaking the law? Rashi was a sage in 11th century France. He described the eighth commandment as a warning against stealing someone’s freedom. It’s not difficult to understand what may have been meant by that idea in Rashi’s time: physical freedom vs. physical enslavement. And yet, Rashi was a sage after all and I believe he intended something more. In today’s world there are numerous examples of people’s freedom being stolen. Felder mentions a supervisor at work who breathes down your neck and treats you as a lowly servant; a parent who refuses to let a grown child make decisions. I would add the loss of freedom to tell one’s story – to speak and be listened to with respect. And, of course, there is the stealing of individual freedoms by ruling systems, governments, and political structures across the globe that persecute, bully, and oppress. There are many ways to steal in life besides shoplifting, breaking into someone’s home, or picking someone’s pocket.
Some scholars suggest that the commandment is a warning against deception and manipulation. One of the professors of theology and ethics at Fuller Theological Seminary in Pasadena asserts, “The commandment confronts a modern culture which accepts greed as a style of self-affirmation. Recognizing the difference between stealing and dealing is a lost art. We still know that when a thug snatches a woman’s purse, it is stealing; we are not sure whether a creative ad writer who woos money from people by seductive lies is stealing. We know that a burglar who takes a poor family’s television set is stealing; we are not always sure whether a company is stealing when it exploits a poor nation’s resources.”
For employers, it is stealing to take advantage of an employee; for teachers it is stealing to demean a student; for families, it is stealing to interrupt a member that needs to be heard and understood. Stealing someone’s self-worth is a crime. As Dr. Felder points out, “There’s no prison sentence or monetary fine for it, but from a spiritual point of view it’s thievery nonetheless.”
Let me introduce you to Susan Molina. Susan Molina is a courageous Colorado single mother of two who earlier this year spoke to the House Energy and Commerce Committee regarding healthcare for children. She spoke on behalf of her children, Bernadette and Joseph, as well as for the thousands of working parents who cannot afford health insurance for their children. You see, Susan’s children lost the health insurance they had received through their state program when Susan got a new job that paid slightly above the poverty level cutoff. She said, “We talk about 9 million uninsured children. Behind those numbers are real children who go to school, have accidents, and get sick. And real parents, like me, who work hard to meet their families’ needs. When insurance prices are outrageously high, as a parent I have to decide whether to put food on the table or buy health insurance. I feel like a failure.” Susan Molina’s self-worth was stolen just like her children’s health insurance.
“There’s no prison sentence or monetary fine for it, but from a spiritual point of view it’s thievery nonetheless.”
As religious people, as people of a faith that cherishes and encourages an open mind, loving heart, and helping hands, we are called to respond – that is our challenge. And there is more. There is the spiritual obligation to the corollary of the eighth commandment. That is, to make sure that others don’t need to steal in order to feed or to clothe themselves and their families. This became increasingly challenging for me when I lived on Chicago’s south side; approached every day by one to three panhandlers per block that I walked – to and from classes, to and from shopping, to and from appointments. Never carrying much, if any, cash on me I got into the habit of carrying a few granola bars in my bag to offer those who asked me for help because they were hungry. But, as you know, this isn’t a Chicago challenge.
In the short eight weeks I’ve lived in San Diego county, I have been challenged as well – in grocery store parking lots, gas stations, and on busy sidewalks. It is a constant reminder of the eighth challenge and I struggle with it. In my struggle, I turn to the wisdom of writers who inspire me, like Kahlil Gibran. In his famous work, The Prophet, it says:
“You often say, “I would give, but only to the deserving.”
The trees in your orchard say not so nor the flocks in your pasture.
They give that they may live, for to withhold is to perish.
Surely he who is worthy to receive his days and his nights, is worthy of all else from you.”
The reason for this generosity and shared responsibility is explained similarly in Jewish, Christian, Muslim, Native American, and other spiritual traditions. There truly is a powerful sense of wholeness and completeness in sharing the gleanings of our harvest.
At the same time that I started helping with classes at First Unitarian Chicago, I began knitting with some children in a park just a block from our apartment. I started out with a bold mission of knitting 100 hats for homeless women & men. I would throw down a blanket in the park after school and spread out the colorful yarn. Then I would simply sit and watch, as children would flock to the blanket like little birds to a feast of crumbs! The girls and boys came from a wide variety of ethnic and economic backgrounds. Some had a nanny or even a parent standing by, some had recently moved out of a shelter and others I felt certain were living on the edge of disaster. None of the children had ever knitted before so I thought hats were going to be out of the question. First, I had to teach them how to knit! Some days I’d bring along a finished hat or two so that they could see what I was working on and believe that someday it would be a hat. They always wanted to know: “Who’s that for?” “You gonna wear that?” And when I finally had the courage to explain my ambitious endeavor, invariably these children excitedly and longingly exclaimed, “I want to knit a hat for the homeless.” “I can help.” “Do you think that I could make a hat for someone who needs one?” One day an older boy who I would later find out had been abandoned by his parents and grandparents and was living with an alcoholic auntie and her boyfriend, declared, “Ms. Green, I’m going to knit a hat for a homeless kid, because they get cold too you know.” These children didn’t worry about how much time it would take them to learn to knit a hat, or if the person receiving the hat would be ‘worthy’ of their efforts. Children know, almost intuitively, that those who are able to give have a responsibility to do so. That is a part of the eighth challenge. That is part of our calling as members of this beloved community – continuing and expanding the incredible work of social justice in our corner of the world.
It isn’t just a little ironic that on Friday, as I was preparing this sermon, my husband went to do some banking on Mission Gorge here in Santee. He had left his cell phone at home and I needed him to make another stop while he was out. I called the bank and as I was describing him to the woman on the phone she said, “Oh, shoot. We’ve just been robbed.” I said, “What are you talking about? You were robbed just now, while I’m on the phone with you?” “Yes,” she said calmly. “The teller was just handed a note. I don’t think you’re husband is here and he won’t be able to come in now because we’re locking the doors. I have to go.”
To add to the irony, just the day before, Thursday, as I was leaving the Von’s parking lot, across Mission Gorge from the same bank, a large, scruffy, sweaty gentleman with a pail of water and a squeegee approached and asked, “Excuse me, I’m trying to earn some extra money to support my kids. Could I wash your windows?” I explained that I had no cash and was sorry I couldn’t help. He replied, “That’s okay. I know you’d help if you could. Have a nice evening.” As I loaded the next bag into my car something caught my eye. It was a box granola bars sitting on top. I was reminded of Chicago. I was reminded of the eighth challenge. I was reminded of my call as a religious person to respond. I hollered out to the squeegee man, “Hey, how old are your kids?” He smiled, “7, 8, and 13 – all boys!” I held up the box. “How about some granola bars?” He thanked me and we went our separate ways.
Living with greater integrity and wholeness is a goal that to some may seem no longer relevant in these competitive times. But as Leonard Felder put it, “Living with integrity is one more way to awaken the sparks of light within your soul and to feel a greater sense of spiritual richness.”
On this Labor Day, I encourage you to take a moment to consider the eighth challenge; a moment to explore what Thou Shalt Not Steal might mean to your life; a moment to re-commit yourself to working for justice in the world; and to find a wholeness within yourself.
Shalom, Salaam, and blessed be.
