Is Justice Like Swift Water?

Life is like swift water. It keeps passing by. What about justice? Does it pass by ephemerally like swift water? Perhaps you have also wondered about justice? Is it constantly in flux?

Speaking of swift water, this is the meaning behind the name for Cle Elum in Kittitas County in Washington, where I stayed this past week. The Kittitas band of the Yakama tribe referred to the nearby Cle Elum River as “swift water” (Tle-el-Lum). While the clan lived and prospered along the river banks for centuries, they were forced off the land and from their permanent villages onto the Yakama Reservation soon after the arrival of white settlers and miners who came like swift water in the mid-eighteenth century. This current of change moved swiftly: first, the missionaries arrived in the 1840s; then the settlers and miners in the 1850s; then a treaty in 1855 to cede tribal lands (of the Yakama and the majority of other tribes); and then the removal of most of the Kittitas band by 1859.  In reading on the history of the town, I was left to ponder if it really is true that only the fittest survive and thrive (For a brief history of Cle Elum, refer here).

The settlers discovered an abundance of coal and the railroad came to town. The railroad drew miners, loggers, farmers, and homesteaders. Cle Elum experienced a bit of a boom, yet not without its share of trials and tragedies. A couple of major fires and an explosion in a coal mine left destruction and death in their wake. But the town weathered these turbulent ordeals. Then the coal industry and train industry as well as logging faded. The town might have faded away if it weren’t for Highway 90 and Cle Elum’s popularity for tourism and recreation. Without them, who knows if the town would still exist? Perhaps Cle Elum would be like the Kittitas band that struggles to survive today (Refer here for an article on the Kittitas band).

Forces of change never stop flowing. Given the promise and possibility surrounding tourism and recreation, a timber company sold a portion of its land to a developer to build a resort. Some in the community opposed the move because it took away from the logging heritage and use of the land. An outgoing storekeeper said as much as she spoke wistfully to me about the town’s recent changes. Others opposed the resort based on environmental concerns (Refer above to the link on the history of Cle Elum for mention of these concerns). Perhaps the developer(s) was to the settlers and loggers what the white settlers, loggers and miners were to the tribal people. Just like the settlers in a former era, the timber company and developer won.

Life is like swift water. Perhaps the fittest alone survive, but who are the fittest, and when do we know if they have truly survived? Today’s developer(s) may be yesterday’s Kittitas band—nothing lasts forever, or so it seems.

Will truth and justice pass by ephemerally, like Heraclitus’ river, or will they come and settle here? Will justice come like a swift and ever-flowing stream? And will the Kittitas people once again return to their ancestral home along the banks of the Cle Elum and live among those residing there now? What would this world need to look like, not simply in Cle Elum, but everywhere, for this state of affairs involving indigenous and marginalized people to materialize? I asked this question of some friends who live in Cle Elum now. For them, it would require a different view of land and materials, not one that entails possessing, but rather sharing. They would concur that it would also require a different view of time and money, not one that construes time as money and justice as a commodity, but where they are priceless resources that aim to cultivate human flourishing for all people, not just one’s own kind.

The prophet Amos had a lot to say about justice. He equated justice to a stream that never stops flowing: “But let justice roll down like waters, and righteousness like an ever-flowing stream” (Amos 5:24; ESV). For Amos, justice is not in ephemeral flux, but like water, it never ceases to flow. May we hear and embrace Amos’ heart cry for people everywhere who suffer oppression. Here is what the ESV online resources say about Amos’ message to Jesus’ church everywhere, not just in Cle Elum:

The message of Amos lands on the global church today with as much force and necessity as it landed on the people of God 2,700 years ago. The key idea in Amos is that God is just and impartial and will judge not only the nations but also his own people for their life of ease and apathy amid human suffering. To prosperous nations around the world today, and particularly prosperous Christians in those nations, the prophecy of Amos is a clear call for active engagement with the poor and afflicted, especially among God’s people.

Wherever we are in our world today, may justice flow through us—rather than be dammed by us—like an ever-flowing stream.