Recently, a dear high school friend took issue with some of my Facebook propaganda regarding the wealth gap and the 99% debate.  He suggested that calling for taxes on the rich was 'divisive' and not helpful.  

It is divisive. That’s one of the points that is very hard for people of good will, like my friend, and especially those who are Christians to understand.  Jesus said to Zaccharaeus, "give away all you have and then you can follow me", while cautioning "it's easier for a camel to get through the eye of a needle than for a rich man to get into heaven".    

I found myself wondering, who constitutes 'community'? Is it different for different people? Who, exactly, would this language divide?  And how is it possible that trying to raise awareness to the 98% of people in the middle class that they have more in common with other working people be more divisive than blaming the 'freeloading unemployed', 'welfare queens', 'community organizers' and 'socialists' that want to pay for education for the poor?


As a seminary student, I want to raise the issues of wealth and poverty, and I realize it is divisive even for those who are genuinely compassionate. It is uncomfortable to think that we might be complicit in a system that is genuinely unfair.  Our very way of life as Americans gratifies and elevates the ethic of earning more money - and our right to keep it.  But that very system, and all it's twists and turns of policy, tax loopholes, and cutting corners, may spell the end of our same beloved society.  All the current studies show that a working person cannot live in the same comfort as they lived 40 years ago, and especially with this recession with 5 people for every job, the downward pressure on wages continues.  Isn't that working joe across the street more like me than the guy giving millions to charities?  Who is my community? 


One obvious answer is that political forces continually try to erode any sense of community between neighbors.  A sense of community allows us to believe in a shared vision of the future. A shared sense of community allows me to feel safe leaving my bike locked on the street. A shared sense of community urges me to chastise the teen neighbor for littering rather than acting inconspicuous. A shared sense of community convinces members of that community to support it with resources, whether that be money, labor, or skill.  That sense of community comes from trust, shared values, and simple social connectedness.  Who wins when we suspect the darker-skinned guy across the street might be undocumented, or lazy, or taking more than his share of tax dollars?  Who wins when we fear or suspect our neighbor but exalt millionaires (or if referring to the 1%,  billionaires) whom we never met as model citizens?  Truly, I have worked beside and conversed with many undocumented immigrants, but I have never met part of the 1%.  For most of us, this is true. 


I caution myself from waxing nostalgic about a time 'when paying taxes was a civic duty' - since I haven't lived that long to be certain of such a time.  But when we look at the founding fathers, the sense of creating a fabric of society that lifted all boats (assuming you were white, male and a landowner) was there.  The narrative that government is useless and taxes are a burden has been prominent my entire life, but I do remember a time when teachers were honored and it was possible to be a 'public servant'.  The conservative narrative of the last 30 years has not only cemented the frame of wasteful government, it has degraded our respect for each other and a good day's work. And at it's heart, it's degrading any sense of community we have left.