#474: What Would King Say?

      Had he lived, Martin Luther King, Jr. would have turned 90 this past week.  As the nation celebrates his birthday, it is easy to honor King as a champion of civil rights, perhaps even easy to note that in 2019 America risks losing some of the gains he championed. 

But it is much harder for us to actually honor him as our national prophet--as America’s conscience--because that means honoring all the causes he stood for.  And those causes taken together, have not merely lost ground; they have nearly disappeared from our public discourse. 

Let me survey what King called the “three great evils,” and ask two questions: What would King say now?  And: Who in our public life still speaks for King? 

Racial Injustice.  Most celebrations honoring King focus on him as leader of the civil rights movement.  And surely a key message in his mission was that people be judged not “by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.” By 1968 King had witnessed many gains, including the 1964 Civil Rights Act and the 1965 Voting Rights Act.  And since then, African-Americans have continued many gains. 

Still, were King alive today he might well say that too often people continue to be judged by the color of their skin, whether in efforts to suppress black votes, or in cases of police shooting unarmed Blacks, or in the rollback of the Voting Rights Act itself. 

And more recently the challenge of accepting people of color has increasingly focused, not only on the descendants of slaves, but also on immigrants and their children (indeed, our first Black president was the son of an immigrant, not the descendant of slaves).  And while King did not face the same issues over immigration that we face now, it’s easy to know what he might say--in fact he already actually said it:

“We may all have come from different ships, but we're in the same boat now."

Indeed, by the end of his career King would be increasingly clear that the evil of racism was not just a problem for U.S. blacks, but for all those oppressed by others:

“In one sense the civil rights movement in the United States is a special American phenomenon which must be understood in the light of American history and dealt with in terms of the American situation. But on another and more important level, what is happening in the United States today is a relatively small part of a world development.”

Looking around today, King might well say we remain far from fulfilling the goal of racial justice for all.

Inequality.  In later years King spoke more and more about economic inequality.  He often called it “poverty,” since up to 1968 the middle class was still gaining in wages and benefits, so it made sense to focus on those below the poverty line.  But since King’s death, the U.S. has seen nearly 50 years of steadily declining real wages even for the middle class, and we now see a wealth gap worse than any time since the great depression of the 1930s.  So when King spoke of poverty, he said:

“Why are there forty million poor people in America? And when you begin to ask that question, you are raising questions about the economic system, about a broader distribution of wealth.’ When you ask that question, you begin to question the capitalistic economy.”

This question of a “broader distribution of wealth” has changed since his death, with fewer below the poverty line but more struggling to make ends meet as wealth has been even more concentrated.  This makes King’s view not less, but even more timely.  Today he would surely repeat these words:

“Call it democracy, or call it democratic socialism, but there must be a better distribution of wealth within this country for all God’s children... God never intended for one group of people to live in superfluous inordinate wealth, while others live in abject deadening poverty.”

War. King lost many supporters and became an even more controversial figure when he campaigned against the Vietnam War.  Even other civil rights leaders felt this was not his role.  But they did not realize that, for King, this was the inevitable result of his own growing vision. 

Once he decided that nonviolence was the key to fighting racism, and once he incorporated the theories of Gandhian nonviolence into his own Christian theology, that naturally altered his views on war, as he moved from a “just war” perspective to pacifism.  He called this his “pilgrimage to nonviolence”:

“I felt that while war could never be a positive good, it could serve as a negative good by preventing the spread and growth of an evil force. War, horrible as it is, might be preferable to surrender to a totalitarian system. But now I believe that the potential destructiveness of modern weapons totally rules out the possibility of war ever again achieving a negative good.”

Indeed, King seemed to know that without a concerted anti-war strategy, the threat of mass destruction would spread.  Today’s worries about North Korea, Iran, and the U.S. abandoning the INF treaty all echo King’s warning:

“Nations are not reducing but rather increasing their arsenals of weapons of mass destruction. The best brains in the highly developed nations of the world are devoted to military technology. The proliferation of nuclear weapons has not been halted…On the contrary, the detonation of an atomic device by the first nonwhite, non-Western, and so-called underdeveloped power, namely the Chinese People’s Republic, opens new vistas of exposure of vast multitudes, the whole of humanity, to insidious terrorization by the ever-present threat of annihilation.”

When accepting the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964, King made his rejection of militarism clear:

“I refuse to accept the cynical notion that nation after nation must spiral down a militaristic stairway into the hell of nuclear annihilation... I believe that even amid today's mortar bursts and whining bullets, there is still hope for a brighter tomorrow... I still believe that one day mankind will bow before the altars of God and be crowned triumphant over war and bloodshed.”

I have no doubt that he would say matters now have only become worse.  Since 9/11 the U.S. has engaged in multiple, seemingly endless wars in Iraq, Afghanistan, Syria, and elsewhere. And unlike the Vietnam era, these wars are not even especially controversial.  In the 1960s a band of public leaders loudly opposed U.S. war policy: King, Robert F. Kennedy, Eugene McCarthy, George McGovern, and many others.  In 2019, who are the public leaders opposing our warlike foreign policy? 

Yet our troop deployments and arms sales (not to mention defense pending) far outstrip all other nations.  It is as if Americana have accepted that war is inevitable and peace is impossible. King would disagree:

“World peace through non-violent means is neither absurd nor unattainable. All other methods have failed. Thus we must begin anew. Non-violence is a good starting point.”

For Catholics today, King’s views are important for three reasons. 

First, his views on race, economic inequality, and peace fit almost exactly with Catholic Social Teaching of the last 50 years--especially with the teachings of the last four popes.  You can look it up! 

Second, King agrees with the Church that these three issues are linked:

“We must see now that the evils of racism, economic exploitation and militarism are all tied together…you can’t really get rid of one without getting rid of the others…the whole structure of American life must be changed.”

Third, King’s vision of the contemporary world exactly matches the Catholic vision emerging from Vatican Council II (1962-1965).  The Council saw technological progress as the hallmark of modern life, and praised such progress but offered this caution: technological progress confers new power, but the good use of that power requires a matching progress in wisdom and goodness. 

Here is how King saw the same “moral lag”:

“Through our scientific and technological genius, we have made of this world a neighborhood and yet we have not had the ethical commitment to make of it a brotherhood. But somehow, and in some way, we have got to do this.”

For King, as for Vatican II, this “moral lag” is at the root of what he calls the world’s three great evils:

“This problem of spiritual and moral lag, which constitutes modern man’s chief dilemma, expresses itself in three larger problems which grow out of man’s ethical infantilism. Each of these problems, while appearing to be separate and isolated, is inextricably bound to the other. I refer to racial injustice, poverty, and war.”

And for King, as for Vatican II, the challenge lies in our moral progress catching up to our technological progress:

“Mankind’s survival is dependent upon man’s ability to solve the problems of racial injustice, poverty, and war; the solution of these problems is in turn dependent upon man squaring his moral progress with his scientific progress, and learning the practical art of living in harmony”

Based on his own words, then, King’s voice still speaks to our time, much the way Catholic Social Teaching does.  Taken together, they represent our brightest wisdom and our clearest hope--but who will champion of such vision? 

On a day when many seek to fence in King’s legacy to narrow questions of race, we should rededicate ourselves to his broader cause of waging nonviolent combat against racism, inequality, and militarism. 

© Bernard F. Swain PhD 2019

#390 Revisited: The Blasts Heard ’Round the World

On the anniversary of the 2013 Boston Marathon bombings, I am re-posting the blog I wrote the day after. It remains my most-read posting.

Initial reflections  on the day after the bombs went off...

      Patriots day is perhaps the quintessential American holiday, even though (or perhaps because) it is celebrated only in Massachusetts.  It marks simultaneously the beginning of the end of Britain’s occupation of the American Colonies and the birth, in rebellion and blood, of a new country. 

The iconic images surrounding Patriots Day are familiar to all Americans.  “One if by land, two if by sea.” “The midnight ride of Paul Revere.” “The British are coming!  The British are coming!” The shot heard round the world.  The Minutemen. Lexington and Concord.

And so each year, just after dawn, the Redcoats arrive again at Lexington Green to be confronted once more by the local Minutemen.  A shot rings out, and a skirmish ensues.  Men on both sides fall, and the colonial militia is driven back, and the Redcoats proceed toward Concord.  But along the way the British troops are terrorized by the rebels harassing them along their route and sniping at them from behind trees and rocks.  Meanwhile tourists follow the rebels, clicking photos of the reenactment.  Local churches offer pancake breakfasts for the visitors.

Schools and most workplaces are closed, so baseball fans leave home early for the annual 11:00 Red Sox game.  With luck, the Red Sox will win and the game will end early enough for the Fenway faithful to stream into Kenmore Square in plenty of time to watch the runners passing by.

More than 20,000 of those runners begin their day early far from Boston in the small New England Town of Hopkinton.  They’ve come from all over the world, and the runners with numbers have qualified for Boston by running other marathons with impressive times.  For many years, Boston was the only non-Olympic marathon that required runners to qualify this way.  It is, after all, the oldest annual marathon in the world. It was a sacred tradition here long before marathon running became popular.

More than 200,000 fans line the streets along the 26-mile route from Hopkinton to Boston. Boston’s quarter-million college kids take Patriots day as an annual rite of spring, cheering on the runners while partying outside for the first time since football season.

Patriots Day is the day Boston’s cityscape finally returns to vibrant life after the relative quiet of the long cold New England winter. It is the day Bostonians remember why they are blessed to live here.

Given all this, the crowds along the entire length of the marathon course are unrivaled for numbers, enthusiasm, and hospitality. The day I observed the 100^th running with my youngest son, we joined hundreds of thousands of spectators cheering for passing runners for five hours until we had clapped our hands raw and yelled our voices hoarse. For participants, Patriots Day is the day Boston opens its arms to the world and offers a running experience no other marathon can match.

But Patriots Day 2013 was unlike any other.  In Lexington and Concord, the battle reenactments were long finished. The winners of the wheelchair races had finished; the women’s and the men’s winners (both from Africa) had already earned their victories, the Red Sox had already won a walk-off 10^th inning victory, and the mass of “weekend warrior” runners were approaching the finish line flanked by the world flags lining Boylston Street.

And then at 2:50 the bombs created a new kind of Boston massacre.  These truly were blasts heard ’round the world, since the heavy media presence guaranteed that the images and sounds of explosions would achieve global reach within minutes. It is hard to imagine a more symbolically-rich venue to attack. 

As of this writing, there’s no public information about who did this or why.  But as shock gives way to outrage, two difficult truths are worth keeping in mind.

First, while the victims were innocents (including a family from my own Dorchester neighborhood) we should not project their innocence onto ourselves as a collective nation. It is tempting to pretend that such villainy is only for “others,” that we are only the victims and never the perpetrators of violence, and that America never attacks innocent victims. This is, unfortunately, just not true.

In fact, American has proved especially prone to using revenge as a pretext for killing innocents. After Pearl Harbor took nearly 2000 American lives, Harry Truman thought the Japanese got their just deserts when our atom bombs killed more than 100,000, mostly civilians—and most Americans agreed. When 9/11 killed nearly 3,000, Many Americans accepted the death of more than 150,000 Iraqis (mostly women and children) as just vengeance. We Americans are proven masters of overwhelming retaliation. Perhaps some of us are proud of that, but we cannot pretend we do not have blood on our hands.

Even now our country inflicts suffering on innocent victims. Some even make the case that American violence is the evil twin of the Boston bombing: http://earthfirstnews.wordpress.com/2013/04/15/the-boston-marathon-and-u-s-drone-attacks-a-tale-of-two-terrorisms/ . So while our outrage is certainly justified, we do well to avoid becoming self-righteous about our place in a violent world.

Second, while the perpetrators of the marathon bombing must be caught and punished, we should resist thinking that destroying all evil-doers will solve the problem of terror and violence in our world.

For Christians, this is an impossible dream. We believe we belong to a fallen humanity, a race who by nature can never completely purge evil from our midst. We can never destroy all the bad guys, for there will always be more of them in the next generation.

This means that true security only comes when we learn how to deal with evil even while knowing we cannot eradicate it.

This is, of course, what Jesus meant by his terrifying saying “Love your enemies.” He and his followers believed—and still believe—that evil and violence are NOT the strongest powers in our world, that retaliation is not the ultimate solution, and that there exists a love that can conquer hate.

For us, this poses a simple but tough challenge. Either Christianity is right, that love is ultimately stronger than violence, or else it is wrong. Either Gandhi and King and Jesus were right, that we must love our enemies, or they were wrong. But what we cannot doubt is that stamping out all evil people is a silly, naïve, and dangerous dream.

Martin Richard, 8, killed in the bombing

Bostonians are already acting to “retaliate” with love. The stunningly rapid and effective action of the first responders (some of them mere bystanders) seems to have reduced the death toll to unthinkably low numbers. The heroic marathon-like services of those working Boston's emergency rooms and operating theaters likewise minimized death and suffering. The flood of blood donors to Boston blood banks, and the widespread offers of housing and hospitality reflected the depth of Bostonians' care for the victims.

Some people have decided to join the ranks of the 8500 marathon volunteers in 2014. Some have vowed to run again. Some will host visitors. Some will simple turn out to observe, determined that next year’s crowd will outdo 2013.

Maybe someone will even propose making Patriots Day a national holiday.

After all, this is the city where the Revolution began. We know there are villains in the world, and we know it took force to expel the occupiers before. We are determined not to be occupied by villains again, and not to be driven by terror, but to live as we should, as a joyful and peaceful people, and thus deprive the villains of their victory.

And when we prove that no one can defeat the courageous hope and generous spirit of Boston, that message will be heard ’round the world.

  © Bernard F. Swain PhD 2013

#400: Who’s YOUR Wisdom Figure?

The 50^th anniversary of the 1963 March on Washington triggered a remarkable array of commentaries from all angles.

Many naturally focused on Martin Luther King’s “I Have a Dream” speech, some specifically singling out his vision of an America where character counts more than color.

Some argued that we should also remember that other leaders, like A. Philip Randolph, were also major figures in that event. Some sought to remind us that the event’s prime focus was not only racial equality but rather “jobs and freedom.” Some commented that the March’s call for greater rights and opportunity has relevance today, beyond the African-American community, for immigrants, gays, undocumented workers, and those suffering from our current economic malaise. Some, finally, reminded us that King’s vision later widened beyond civil rights to embrace non-violence in all its forms—including his controversial opposition to the war in Vietnam and his call for a non-violent spiritual revolution.

But amid this array of remembrance and interpretation one thing seems clear. The March on Washington, not just for those attending or viewing on TV, but for those who learned about it later, established Martin Luther King as one of the great—if not the greatest—wisdom figures in American life.

He is not alone:  Americans find wisdom in Thomas Jefferson, Abraham Lincoln, Susan B. Anthony, and others. But for at least 45 years (since his April 1968 assassination) King has stood out. He is now the only American honored with his own national holiday. His letters and speeches are treasured by millions and studied in schools across the land. His face is as well-known as any American in history, and his memorial on the National Mall is a rare honor for a non-president. His “I Have a Dream” speech—much of it improvised in a moment of inspiration—is often regarded as the greatest American speech of the 20th century.

King’s iconic status means that people admire him even if they know little about him. It means they are inspired by what they do know of his vision and values. It means they conform their vision of America—and of life—to his. It means that King’s opinions and convictions are largely beyond scrutiny and criticism for millions. In a secular society not given to devotion, he is venerated as former ages venerated saints.

In this he shares a rare popular status accorded very few individuals in the modern world. In Western culture, such iconic status is reserved for those who wield wisdom rather than power. Heads of state, generals, and corporate giants do not acquire such status. It goes instead to people like Gandhi, Mother Teresa, Albert Schweitzer, Dorothy Day, Oscar Romero, and Martin Luther King.

For me this raises a point of personal curiosity. As we observe the March’s 50^th anniversary, I wonder: Who are the wisdom figures in each of our lives?

I ask this question for myself and my own generation, but especially for my children’s generation. And I ask for two reasons.

First, because any life without wisdom cannot be fully lived. The mystery of life is too complex and rich to savor without some insight into its true meaning and value. And few humans possess the personal tools to plumb that mystery alone, without the help of others. The “examined life” is not a solo performance. We need wisdom figures just to appreciate our own lives. So we turn to those who inspire us with insights that surpass our own.

Second, I ask because our times demand wisdom more than ever. Vatican Council II (1962-1965) absolutely nailed our current challenge when it observed that the human race had never acquired so much new power so fast as it had in the 20^th century. And it reminded us that such vast growth in power requires a parallel growth in wisdom. For only wisdom can harness power and steer it toward good; without wisdom, growing power risks growing dangers.  In the 50 years since Vatican II, the specters of nuclear war, climate change, international terrorism, ecological and economic disaster, genocide, bioengineering and technology run amok have all confirmed Vatican II’s view that our future depends on matching our expanding powers with expanded wisdom.

But where do we find such wisdom? Who offers it?

Of course, wisdom may be sought in literature, philosophy, and art as well as in our religious traditions. But most people find it embodied in exceptional individuals who point us to those other sources. The March’s anniversary reminds us that, for millions of Americans, that individual is Martin Luther King. And that is a good thing.

But I wonder still about many born since King died, raised in a world saturated with comfort and convenience yet consumed with anxiety about the future of their lives, their nation, and their world. Who offers them the wisdom they need?

Sometimes we read of the next generation’s search for heroes—but heroism is about achievement and character, while wisdom is about insight and vision. Athletes can be role models and heroes, but make unlikely wisdom figures.  Celebrities are known for their fame but not for their insight.  People in public office may be admired for their abilities and occasionally even for their courage, but politics is seldom seen as wisdom’s natural home. Corporate giants may be shrewd and powerful and even ruthless, but few of us believe that the bottom line reveals much about the fullness of life.

So if young Americans need wisdom figures—and they do—but cannot find them in sports, show business, politics, or the corporate world—where can they find them? (All evidence suggests, of course, that they will not even LOOK within religious institutions).

I think back to my own formative years, and think of the people who inspired me with their wise insights into life’s purpose and value.  When the pop song “Alfie” asked “What’s it all about?” I turned to the obvious figure from my own family religious tradition: Jesus. And as I came of age I found other figures to follow. Often these were people themselves inspired by Jesus, or else were following visions that complemented what I knew of Jesus’ wisdom.

Over time I was lucky enough to find many wisdom figures to inspire and guide me.

There was John XXIII, the pope who proved that our ancient faith and the contemporary world need not be estranged. There was Pete Seeger, the troubadour who made his music a voice for justice. There was Guy Leger, a Dominican priest who taught me that all true beauty, just like all goodness, is sacred.   

There was Dag Hammarskjold, UN leader who linked the

Dag Hammarskjold

spiritual life and public policy. There was Albert Schweitzer, who showed how crucial but how also how challenging it is to practice “reverence for life.” There was Gandhi, who proved that non-violent love could conquer hate. There was Bob Lindsay, a Jesuit priest who taught me to find reality beyond appearances.

There was Dorothy Day, who reminded us of the non-violent love at the core of Christian faith. There was King himself, who linked Gandhian non-violence with the gospel-fired flame of racial justice. 

Some of those people I was blessed to know. The others I was blessed to know about. I am still eager to find new wisdom figures: since finishing two recent biographies of Francis of Assisi, I suspect I may soon add his name to my list. All told, it is a good list: robust enough to fuel much reflection on my life and living.

But the main thing is to HAVE such a list, to know the answer to the question: “Who is on MY list? Who are MY wisdom figures?”

That question is also important to those you love: where do they seek and find the wisdom that enriches their lives and nurtures their spirit?

Celebrating the 50^th anniversary of the March on Washington, countless observers spoke of  "progress” to measure that event’s legacy. How they assess our “progress” seems to depend on their interpretation of that event’s meaning. So they measure racial justice, or the range of freedom, or economic opportunity, or social equality, or even the strength of our hope or the scope of our national vision.

But for those who now see wisdom in the figure of Martin Luther King, perhaps “progress” is more personal, and must be measured more by the vitality of our spirits than by the prosperity of our land, more by the peace in our hearts than by the turmoil in our world. For King never spoke without preaching, and behind all his preaching was the gospel of peace.

  Bernard F. Swain PhD 2010

Thanks to those who sent donations by Paypal or emailed to send a check. Your help encourages me to keep this up. It's not too late to participate in my annual blog fundraiser! (see #399, the next blog entry below)

#390: The Blasts Heard ’Round the World

Initial reflections  on the day after the bombs went off...

      Patriots day is perhaps the quintessential American holiday, even though (or perhaps because) it is celebrated only in Massachusetts.  It marks simultaneously the beginning of the end of Britain’s occupation of the American Colonies and the birth, in rebellion and blood, of a new country. 

The iconic images surrounding Patriots Day are familiar to all Americans.  “One if by land, two if by sea.” “The midnight ride of Paul Revere.” “The British are coming!  The British are coming!” The shot heard round the world.  The Minutemen. Lexington and Concord.

And so each year, just after dawn, the Redcoats arrive again at Lexington Green to be confronted once more by the local Minutemen.  A shot rings out, and a skirmish ensues.  Men on both sides fall, and the colonial militia is driven back, and the Redcoats proceed toward Concord.  But along the way the British troops are terrorized by the rebels harassing them along their route and sniping at them from behind trees and rocks.  Meanwhile tourists follow the rebels, clicking photos of the reenactment.  Local churches offer pancake breakfasts for the visitors.

Schools and most workplaces are closed, so baseball fans leave home early for the annual 11:00 Red Sox game.  With luck, the Red Sox will win and the game will end early enough for the Fenway faithful to stream into Kenmore Square in plenty of time to watch the runners passing by.

More than 20,000 of those runners begin their day early far from Boston in the small New England Town of Hopkinton.  They’ve come from all over the world, and the runners with numbers have qualified for Boston by running other marathons with impressive times.  For many years, Boston was the only non-Olympic marathon that required runners to qualify this way.  It is, after all, the oldest annual marathon in the world. It was a sacred tradition here long before marathon running became popular.

More than 200,000 fans line the streets along the 26-mile route from Hopkinton to Boston. Boston’s quarter-million college kids take Patriots day as an annual rite of spring, cheering on the runners while partying outside for the first time since football season.

Patriots Day is the day Boston’s cityscape finally returns to vibrant life after the relative quiet of the long cold New England winter. It is the day Bostonians remember why they are blessed to live here.

Given all this, the crowds along the entire length of the marathon course are unrivaled for numbers, enthusiasm, and hospitality. The day I observed the 100^th running with my youngest son, we joined hundreds of thousands of spectators cheering for passing runners for five hours until we had clapped our hands raw and yelled our voices hoarse. For participants, Patriots Day is the day Boston opens its arms to the world and offers a running experience no other marathon can match.

But Patriots Day 2013 was unlike any other.  In Lexington and Concord, the battle reenactments were long finished. The winners of the wheelchair races had finished; the women’s and the men’s winners (both from Africa) had already earned their victories, the Red Sox had already won a walk-off 10^th inning victory, and the mass of “weekend warrior” runners were approaching the finish line flanked by the world flags lining Boylston Street.

And then at 2:50 the bombs created a new kind of Boston massacre.  These truly were blasts heard ’round the world, since the heavy media presence guaranteed that the images and sounds of explosions would achieve global reach within minutes. It is hard to imagine a more symbolically-rich venue to attack. 

As of this writing, there’s no public information about who did this or why.  But as shock gives way to outrage, two difficult truths are worth keeping in mind.

First, while the victims were innocents (including a family from my own Dorchester neighborhood) we should not project their innocence onto ourselves as a collective nation. It is tempting to pretend that such villainy is only for “others,” that we are only the victims and never the perpetrators of violence, and that America never attacks innocent victims. This is, unfortunately, just not true.

In fact, American has proved especially prone to using revenge as a pretext for killing innocents. After Pearl Harbor took nearly 2000 American lives, Harry Truman thought the Japanese got their just deserts when our atom bombs killed more than 100,000, mostly civilians—and most Americans agreed. When 9/11 killed nearly 3,000, Many Americans accepted the death of more than 150,000 Iraqis (mostly women and children) as just vengeance. We Americans are proven masters of overwhelming retaliation. Perhaps some of us are proud of that, but we cannot pretend we do not have blood on our hands.

Even now our country inflicts suffering on innocent victims. Some even make the case that American violence is the evil twin of the Boston bombing: http://earthfirstnews.wordpress.com/2013/04/15/the-boston-marathon-and-u-s-drone-attacks-a-tale-of-two-terrorisms/ . So while our outrage is certainly justified, we do well to avoid becoming self-righteous about our place in a violent world.

Second, while the perpetrators of the marathon bombing must be caught and punished, we should resist thinking that destroying all evil-doers will solve the problem of terror and violence in our world.

For Christians, this is an impossible dream. We believe we belong to a fallen humanity, a race who by nature can never completely purge evil from our midst. We can never destroy all the bad guys, for there will always be more of them in the next generation.

This means that true security only comes when we learn how to deal with evil even while knowing we cannot eradicate it.

This is, of course, what Jesus meant by his terrifying saying “Love your enemies.” He and his followers believed—and still believe—that evil and violence are NOT the strongest powers in our world, that retaliation is not the ultimate solution, and that there exists a love that can conquer hate.

For us, this poses a simple but tough challenge. Either Christianity is right, that love is ultimately stronger than violence, or else it is wrong. Either Gandhi and King and Jesus were right, that we must love our enemies, or they were wrong. But what we cannot doubt is that stamping out all evil people is a silly, naïve, and dangerous dream.

Martin Richard, 8, killed in the bombing

Bostonians are already acting to “retaliate” with love. The stunningly rapid and effective action of the first responders (some of them mere bystanders) seems to have reduced the death toll to unthinkably low numbers. The heroic marathon-like services of those working Boston's emergency rooms and operating theaters likewise minimized death and suffering. The flood of blood donors to Boston blood banks, and the widespread offers of housing and hospitality reflected the depth of Bostonians' care for the victims.

Some people have decided to join the ranks of the 8500 marathon volunteers in 2014. Some have vowed to run again. Some will host visitors. Some will simple turn out to observe, determined that next year’s crowd will outdo 2013.

Maybe someone will even propose making Patriots Day a national holiday.

After all, this is the city where the Revolution began. We know there are villains in the world, and we know it took force to expel the occupiers before. We are determined not to be occupied by villains again, and not to be driven by terror, but to live as we should, as a joyful and peaceful people, and thus deprive the villains of their victory.

And when we prove that no one can defeat the courageous hope and generous spirit of Boston, that message will be heard ’round the world.

  © Bernard F. Swain PhD 2013

America’s Moral Crossroads

On this Martin Luther King Day, during which the Inauguration festivities repeatedly linked freedom and war, I offer this reminder (written on King Day 2005):

In the years since King’s death, people who insist on reducing him to a “champion for racial justice,” period, have tamed his legacy. This dulls the true prophetic edge of a man who saw his own nation at odds with God’s will both at home and abroad.

        For many Americans, Martin Luther King Day gets lost as one of those minor, even token observances like Labor Day and Veterans Day. Yet there are three important reasons to pay serious attention to this holiday.

(1) Since slavery was America’s "original sin,” and since we still struggle with its consequences, it makes sense to take this occasion to stop and reflect on our Christian responsibilities in promoting a racially just society.

(2) The second reason is somewhat broader: Dr. King was not a public official, nor even a professional politician. He was an ordained Christian minister, a preacher, a trained theologian. By the time of his assassination in April 1968, he had become widely regarded as the moral leader of America. Today he is the only American singled out for his own holiday. He has become the closest thing were have to a national patron saint. Today, when many are concerned about “moral values” (some even expect their President to be their moral leader), King offers a timely example of what moral leadership really looks like.

(3) The third reason may be even timelier: Peace. We’ve just come through the Holy Day of “Peace on Earth” we call Christmas, as well as the World Day of Peace we now celebrate on January 1. Now, two weeks later, we honor the man who finished his career by moving beyond the civil rights movement to become a champion for peace.

Of course, King won the Nobel Peace Prize in 1964 because of his commitment to a non-violent campaign for racial justice. But in his acceptance speech, he spoke of a commitment to non-violence that went beyond race-relations:

“This awards represents a profound recognition that non-violence is the answer to the crucial political and moral questions of our time—the need for men to overcome oppression and violence without resorting to violence and oppression.”

King knew, of course, that such recognition had not yet worked its way into US public policy. Indeed, 40 years later we still try to overcome oppression and violence by resorting to violence and oppression.

The Nobel Prize did not alter King’s character, but it did transform his agenda. While he still fought for black people’s rights, he began to sense the movement had an even higher   calling: to work for all people of good will. “Maybe our mission,” he said, “is to save the soul of America.”

For years King had promoted non-violence as the chief “weapon” in the civil rights struggle. Even as innocent children died in that struggle, he had long preached that the solution was not “getting our ammunition and going out shooting physical weapons.” Instead, he said, “We must know that we have something much more powerful. Just take up the ammunition of love.”

This was nothing but straight Gospel talk, of course, but King was coming to see non-violence as more than just a tool—in fact, as a value in itself—and he began to address himself to “Americans of good will who are committed to the struggle for brotherhood and the crusade for world peace.”

By then the US was not just struggling with civil rights; it was also a nation at war. Many within the movement urged King not to overstep his role, not to risk bogging down in the growing national turmoil over war in Vietnam. But finally King’s conscience dictated that he break his silence on the war, even if it meant breaking ranks with his allies in the movement.

The decisive moment came in April 1967, with his sermon at Riverside Church in New York City, the speech now known as the “Silence of the Night” speech, the speech many historians regard as King’s greatest—and the speech that redefined his place in American life.

He admitted that many supporters lamented his move, asking, “Why are you joining the voices of dissent?” and arguing “Peace and civil rights don’t mix.” His response: “My conscience leaves me no other choice. ” For he had come to see a darkness closing around America, and he believed someone had to break “the silence of the night.”

What was that darkness? It was the victory of violence in the world—not only violence by those oppressing racial minorities, but especially by “the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today: my own government.” He even worried that the war could make America a nation whose soul was “totally poisoned.”

He knew this would shock many, but he challenged them to see the logic of his outlook, appealing to his vocation as a minister of Jesus Christ:

 To me, the relationship of this ministry to the making of peace is so obvious that I sometimes marvel at those who ask me why I am speaking against the war... Have they forgotten that my ministry is in obedience to the one who loved his enemies so fully that he died for them?

For King, as for Pope John Paul II, being a Christian means being above all a citizen of the world, and he shared the world’s view that US war-making was “disgraceful” and “perverse.” He urged all draft-aged people to seek conscientious objector status, and called on clergy to mobilize war resistance.

But King was not done.

“The war in Vietnam,” he said, “is but a symptom of a far deeper malady within the American spirit.” The world, he said, is going through a major historical revolution, and our nation is “on the wrong side.” Without  “a significant and profound change in American life and policy,” he feared we would be mired in violence and turmoil for generations to come. Believing this, he proposed a radical shift in American values:

I am convinced that if we are to get on the right side of the world revolution, we as a nation must undergo a radical revolution of values. We must rapidly begin the shift from a thing-oriented society to a person-oriented society. When machines and computers, profit motives and property rights, are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, extreme materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered. A true revolution of values will soon cause us to question the fairness and justice of many of our past and present policies…A true revolution of values will soon look uneasily on the glaring contrast of poverty and wealth…A true revolution of values will lay hand on the world order and say of war, "This way of settling differences is not just." …America, the richest and most powerful nation in the world, can well lead the way in this revolution of values. There is nothing except a tragic death wish to prevent us from reordering our priorities so that the pursuit of peace will take precedence over the pursuit of war.

This marked a major turn in King’s ministry. Until now he had always argued that the civil rights movement was needed to fulfill the “core American values” this nation was founded upon. Now, in a new and radical way, he was arguing those values needed to change if America was to meet its responsibilities to the world and to the Gospels.

In the years since King’s death, people who insist on reducing him to a “champion for racial justice,” period, have tamed his legacy. This dulls the true prophetic edge of a man who saw his own nation at odds with God’s will both at home and abroad.

Taming King’s message does disservice to both him and to our people, for today our nation still continues its warlike ways, yet Americans cry out for truer values. We cannot pretend to fulfill his dream by making peace with African-Americans if we also continue to be “the greatest purveyor of violence in the world today.”

King concluded his Riverside talk by depicting America at a moral crossroads, faced with a historic choice. Would we choose the shameful legacy of nations who possess “power without compassion, might without morality, and strength without sight”? Or would we instead choose to end the night by learning to make peace our way in the world?

 If we will make the right choice, we will be able to transform the jangling discords of our world into a beautiful symphony of brotherhood. If we will but make the right choice, we will be able to speed up the day, all over America and all over the world, when justice will roll down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream.

 America failed to heed him then, and 38 years later we find ourselves still stuck in the vicious cycle of violence. Is it our dark dead end, or have we simply circled back to the same old moral crossroads? If so, perhaps we have another chance to make the right choice, if only we will want the bright dream he dreamed. 

© Bernard F. Swain PhD 2005

#297: Does Credibility = Conformity?

EXCERPT:
It is always tough to take issue with Emmanuel Charles McCarthy. But I have a problem with his recent critique of Hans Kung’s April 17 letter calling for Church reform (see the site http://www.jesusradicals.com/a-credibility-crisis-reform-by-emmanuel-charles-mccarthy/ for his article “A Credibility Crisis? Reform?). He complains that Kung overlooks the problem of Church support for war and violence. For McCarthy, justifying killing as "faithful discipleship" amounts to a "severe credibility crisis" that "most of humanity sees as obvious."

The Church’s problem, he says, comes from "the discordance between what Jesus teaches and what the Church teaches on violence and enmity." For him, real "reform" requires "restoring conformity to what Jesus command that the church to teach and to obey," and thus "following what Jesus taught by word and deed."

This idea of conformity to Jesus in all respects is so obvious to McCarthy than any other views seems simply irrational. Indeed, McCarthy believes that Jesus' example offers, not just a good way to do things, or an ideal way, but "the only way of doing what he did."

Now, I have no problem with McCarthy’s take on the gospels. Nor do I quarrel with his history. I do not even have a problem with McCarthy’s ethics--I lean toward some form of Christian pacifism myself,and I regard non-violence icons like Dorothy Day, Gandhi, M.L. King, and Nelson Mandela as the moral giants of our day.

My problem is with his whole underlying notion that a credible Christian faith requires conformity in all respects to Jesus and his immediate followers. That is his entire basis for arguing that only a commitment to non-violence can constitute credible reform.

There is a strong case to be made against the just war theory, and an equally strong case to be made for Christian non-violence. But McCarthy has made neither case, and he does both our credibility and faithful discipleship a disservice by equating them with rote conformity.

I simply reject the idea that faithful discipleship equals rote conformity. The problem is this: not only is such a restoration a practical impossibility, but even its most ardent champions (including McCarthy himself) refuse to consistently carry it out.

The simple truth is: for such conformity to be consistent, that would require us to treat Jesus and the first Christians, not as people of their times, but as timeless arbiters of our ethical, spiritual, and even intellectual standards.

This would mean that, to be credible Christians and faithful disciples, we must embrace whatever they embraced, accept whatever they accepted, tolerate whatever they tolerated, and reject whatever they rejected. In short, we must accept the boundaries of their outlook and practice as our own boundaries.

Such a theological principle quickly leads to absurd results--for if, to be credible Christians, we must consistently conform ourselves this way, then we must, like them:

Expect Christ's imminent return and reject any long-term vision or strategy for life on earth; become practicing Jews; abstain from all involvement in politics; not resist our oppressors or occupiers; be silent about slavery and be content to convert slaves to the Christian faith; be silent on many cruelties typical in the Roman Empire, among them torture and crucifixion; share all goods in common and have no private property; regard marriage as a last resort for those unable to maintain celibacy until Christ returns; blame the “Jews” for rejecting Jesus; drop teachings they did not proclaim, such as Christ’s two natures or even the Trinity; drop practices they did not practice: Christmas, infant baptism, ecumenical relations; have bishops and deacons but no priests and no parishes; observe the Jewish Sabbath in synagogue or temple, and then break Eucharistic bread in homes; have no churches; not promote practices or policies they did not have: priests (men or women), acceptance of gays, contraception, etc.

Instead of all this, Christians believe that, as historical conditions change and offer new insights, they may develop their teachings and practices in ways that outstrip the boundaries set by Jesus, the Gospels, and the early Christians. We believe, in other words, that Jesus and his followers were, like us, people of their times -- whereas our faith in Him is a faith for all times.

So we proclaim Christ as the second person of the Trinity, a claim neither he nor his disciples ever made. And we commit the faith to building a better world over the long haul of history (already 100 generations since Jesus, and still counting)--something they never imagined. In fact, Christians began adding and dropping and changing elements of the Christian life as early as 100 AD.

Was Jesus committed to non-violence? Yes. Were the early Christians "pacifists"? Probably yes, at least in some sense of that term. Is Christian non-violence a good and important principle even today? Absolutely!

Can you make a case that all Christians should be pacifists? Sure -- but not by simply arguing that conforms to Jesus.

Can you also claim that Christians who reject pacifism are “not credible Christians”? No -- that is, not unless you are prepared to abandon much of what we today call Christianity and sign up at your local synagogue. But in that case, be prepared to hear someone mention "an eye for an eye"!