A Ripple of Hope

Yesterday was the 40th anniversary of the assassination of Martin Luther King. A lot was said about this infamous anniversary. Most politicians had something to share, including the embarrassing comments by Senator John McCain explaining his opposition to the Martin Luther King Holiday, which was really nothing more than pandering racism. All that was said paled in comparison to what Senator Robert Kennedy had to say back in 1968, a few shorts months before he was assassinated himself.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

I'm only going to talk to you just for a minute or so this evening, because I have some -- some very sad news for all of you -- Could you lower those signs, please? -- I have some very sad news for all of you, and, I think, sad news for all of our fellow citizens, and people who love peace all over the world; and that is that Martin Luther King was shot and was killed tonight in Memphis, Tennessee.

Martin Luther King dedicated his life to love and to justice between fellow human beings. He died in the cause of that effort. In this difficult day, in this difficult time for the United States, it's perhaps well to ask what kind of a nation we are and what direction we want to move in. For those of you who are black -- considering the evidence evidently is that there were white people who were responsible -- you can be filled with bitterness, and with hatred, and a desire for revenge.

We can move in that direction as a country, in greater polarization -- black people amongst blacks, and white amongst whites, filled with hatred toward one another. Or we can make an effort, as Martin Luther King did, to understand, and to comprehend, and replace that violence, that stain of bloodshed that has spread across our land, with an effort to understand, compassion, and love.

For those of you who are black and are tempted to fill with -- be filled with hatred and mistrust of the injustice of such an act, against all white people, I would only say that I can also feel in my own heart the same kind of feeling. I had a member of my family killed, but he was killed by a white man.

But we have to make an effort in the United States. We have to make an effort to understand, to get beyond, or go beyond these rather difficult times.

My favorite poem, my -- my favorite poet was Aeschylus. And he once wrote:

Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget
falls drop by drop upon the heart,
until, in our own despair,
against our will,
comes wisdom
through the awful grace of God.

What we need in the United States is not division; what we need in the United States is not hatred; what we need in the United States is not violence and lawlessness, but is love, and wisdom, and compassion toward one another, and a feeling of justice toward those who still suffer within our country, whether they be white or whether they be black.

So I ask you tonight to return home, to say a prayer for the family of Martin Luther King -- yeah, it's true -- but more importantly to say a prayer for our own country, which all of us love -- a prayer for understanding and that compassion of which I spoke.

We can do well in this country. We will have difficult times. We've had difficult times in the past, but we -- and we will have difficult times in the future. It is not the end of violence; it is not the end of lawlessness; and it's not the end of disorder.

But the vast majority of white people and the vast majority of black people in this country want to live together, want to improve the quality of our life, and want justice for all human beings that abide in our land.

And let's dedicate ourselves to what the Greeks wrote so many years ago: to tame the savageness of man and make gentle the life of this world. Let us dedicate ourselves to that, and say a prayer for our country and for our people.

Thank you very much.

This has been a hard week for me, a week in which I've been faced with very difficult times. I was reminded this week that it is often worse for so many others. Talking to Suzanne, she share with me her last day in her 29th year, and I sat in awe of what so many young children endur daily. Martin Luther King, just a few weeks before his life was taken, spoke of how "we shall overcome" so much adversity that lies ahead.

But not Suzanne or Martin Luther King could give words to what I have been feeling as well as Robert Kennedy.

Even in our sleep, pain which cannot forget
falls drop by drop upon the heart,
until, in our own despair,
against our will,
comes wisdom
through the awful grace of God.

Those words, written 1,000s of years before in Greek, seem to resonate like few things I've heard over the past few months. With my flirtations with aethism and agnosticism, my repulsion from institutions long cherished, can be summed up in that single line, "through the awful grace of God."

God doesn't exist to solve our problems, pay our bills, bring us victory in the Super Bowl. God exists. We define our relationship and our rewards. A belief does not guarentee greatness. Greatness is sought, fought for, and clung to. God's greatness is liberating and profound, but also painful and real. Churches which rely on a message of hope and great gifts demand a faith in a benevolent power which will solve problems, defying the human experience. The realness of God might mean that there is pain, and through that pain may be found wisdom. You don't get many crisp twenties in the collection plate with that, but it doesn't mean its less true.

You can learn so much more about Kennedy's speech, a speech which may have saved a city, here. Or watch the original speech here.