By William Bole

The grassroots alliance that invaded Seattle last year, in the jihad against the World Trade Organization, materialized in the nation's capital in mid-April. But this time, many of the troops came armed with obscure verses from the Hebrew Scriptures and fired their sermons at the World Bank and International Monetary Fund.

Several thousand of these protestors formed a human chain around the U.S. Capitol, demanding that rich nations lift a page from the Scriptures and forgive the debts of the world's poorest nations during this millennial year. They represented a heavily faith-based coalition that has already managed a minor miracle in the unforgiving global economy.

Even before the demonstration, World Bank and IMF leaders had become versed, however hesitantly, in the Book of Leviticus. This is the holy writ of the debt movement, proclaiming the biblical tradition of the Jubilee Year in which debts are relieved. Largely because of the eclectic Jubilee band, many are seriously discussing massive debt forgiveness, a goal that seemed impractical if not loony a few years ago.

Like the battle in Seattle, the debt rallies and separately sponsored Mobilization for Global Justice showcased the ripening role of civil-society organizations in global economic debates. Less widely noted has been the intrusion of moral and theological ideas, peeling with biblical metaphors, into the temples of international finance.

It is extremely difficult to grasp the debt campaign, and a sizeable swath of the wider "global justice" crusade, without accounting for theology. Biblical wisdom has enlivened an alliance featuring Pope John Paul II as well as evangelist Billy Graham and the rock star Bono of U2.

The animating vision is of the Jubilee Year. In ancient Israel, it was a time to build relationships of social equity, as expected of God's people. It was the season to liberate slaves and return land to those who had lost it because of debt. It was a year to make a fresh start and erase debts altogether. So it is written, most descriptively in the 25^th chapter of Leviticus.

Actually, biblical scholars can find no evidence that ancient Israel ever practiced this social ethic. It is as if the Israelites had their own economists who told the Prophets: "What are you guys, crazy? If we write off debts every 50 years, we'll never get our economic house in order."

That bit of biblical redaction hasn't kept modern moralists from blasting the Jubilee horn. In this past year, the London-based Jubilee 2000 campaign has scored a string of debt-relief victories in the form of concessions by creditor nations. Meanwhile, the U.S. Catholic Conference and other religious organizations have quietly engaged World Bank and IMF officials in a dialogue on debt.

Thanks largely to these struggles, there is now broad acknowledgment of co-responsibility: that both rich and poor nations contributed to the Third World debt tragedy. The argument has come down not to whether there should be generous debt relief, but whether it should reach every impoverished country.

Beyond that, the movement is aiming to sell the Jubilee ethic of justice to the global economy. In ancient Israel, the Jubilee Year was proclaimed as a time for not only forgiving debts, but also letting the land rest and sharing among all whatever it yielded naturally. It was a reminder that the Lord is the ultimate titleholder, and the riches of creation are intended for all God's children ("for the land is mine, and you are but aliens who have become my tenants" -- Leviticus, 25:23).

In other words, there is a social mortgage or claim on all property, tangible or intellectual. An example might be international investment, arguably well protected by IMF policies, and morally accountable to workers and communities. As Pope John Paul has made clear, the social mortgage is not socialist collectivism. It is a call for a broader view of productive wealth and a robust array of forces and institutions to countervail pure capitalism.

Jubilee Year activists might need reminding that moral and religious precepts do not translate instantly into positions on trade and finance, or labor and environmental standards. Financial leaders should recognize the thick moral content of these issues, because what globalization desperately needs is meaning and purpose. It needs a soul.

William Bole is an associate fellow of the Woodstock Theological Center at Georgetown University in Washington, D.C. The center sponsors the Global Economy and Cultures Project.