Am I my Brother's Keeper?

Among the Christians that I know, much the debate around the concept of universal healthcare, or an expansion of the social welfare state in general, revolves around one question: why should I pay for someone else's healthcare? Let's look at this a couple of ways.

The title of this post is Cain's response to God when God asks Cain where his brother is (as if God didn't know). Cain knows perfectly well that he killed his brother, but says to God, in effect, "how should I know? Am I my brother's keeper?" Everything God does next shows us that the answer to that question is a resounding YES. God later enshrines this concept in the Law, which explicitly provides for the people on the lowest rung of the power and influence ladder. We are responsible for each other. We are responsible to God for the kind of society we create. Jesus takes issue with those who have a lot, telling them that if they're relying on it to "save" them, then they should also try getting a camel through the eye of a needle. This is Jesus at his sarcastic best. If you hate the idea of "your" resources being used to fund other people's medical expenses, then Jesus might be talking to you.

From a social-political perspective, there is nothing new about these debates. We were having them in the 1930s when FDR was sculpting what would become the Social Security Act of 1935. Oddly enough, most Americans were fine with the idea of social welfare, but that's because the middle-class was on a par with the working- and lower-classes. The Great Depression was also the Great Equalizer. That said, there was plenty of push-back, mostly from corporate America, the American Medical Association, and conservative churches, all of whom considered the ideal of American individualism, the rugged pioneer surviving on his wits with his family in tow, to be sacrosanct. There were all kinds of financial interests mixed in there too, of course. In the end, FDR managed to get the Act through Congress minus universal healthcare, which the AMA was successful in killing.

So what happened between now and then? The 1950s happened. After the War, the U.S. entered a period of stability and prosperity (which was an inch deep at best...read Elaine Howard May's "Homeward Bound" if you want to know more). It was also a time of stifling conformity. Prosperity became the norm; anything else became a form of deviance. Old values began to emerge: if you were poor, it was because you were lazy. Or black or Hispanic. Because everybody knew that they were shiftless. Racial tensions that remained dormant during during the War awoke with a fury. The almost exclusively-white suburbs looked to the edge of the cities, to the ghettos teeming with brown-skinned people who had moved there earlier in the century, and they began to get angry.

Nevermind that there have ALWAYS been more poor white people than poor black people. Nevermind that there have ALWAYS been more un- or underinsured white people than black people. Still the image persists: the recipient of state health care, ADC or other welfare programs is a black women living in the projects with her four illegitimate kids by three fathers, none of whom are around anymore. Why should we pay for that, huh? They should get jobs and take care of themselves, just like we do, right?

Who are you thinking about when you think of someone without healthcare? Let me help. Hannah and I don't have any health insurance. We haven't for probably six years. It happened when Blue Cross/Blue Shield began to increase our rates 27% a year. We finally had to drop it when the monthly premium reached $1300 a month. It was more than our mortgage, and over twice as much as BOTH of our car payments combined. Our kids are covered by the State of Georgia, thank God. But if anything happens to Hannah or me, we're screwed.

There. Does that put a face on it? Are you your brother's keeper? Are you my keeper? Hannah's keeper? Would you sacrifice some of the luxuries in your health plan so that Hannah and I could see a doctor when we're sick? Because we do get sick you know. We need yearly preventative care just like you do, but we don't get it because we have to choose between feeding our family and getting medical care. I *have* a job. Two of them, actually.

It's easy to stand on principle when you're not the one suffering. It's easy to create caricatures and subtly racist straw men. The real face of the health insurance crisis looks just like Hannah and me, though.

Are you your brother's keeper? I hope so, for their sake and for yours.