Obama's Speech: Race on the High Road ("A More Perfect Union")

Thanks, but no thanks, to Barack Obama’s pastor, Rev. Jeremiah Wright, who pushed the race issue to the front of the campaign stage by his remarks critical of white America. Obama now had to define himself clearly on this question. Political operatives all had advice, but typically were only counting votes in the usual statistical sense. It seemed that Obama had three choices of how to respond. 1) He could put his numerous white supporters at ease by castigating Rev. Wright’s ill-considered remarks, but to the dismay of the black community (a smaller number). 2) He could emphasize that the quotes were presented out of context and could recast the words in softer tones while affirming the discontents of the African-American community--an approach that would likely be unconvincing to either side. Or 3) he could dance around the issue, calling the sermon quotes unfortunate, and hope the flap dissipates on its own. This last option would be the safest, not winning many, but losing the fewest.

Rejecting standard political wisdom, though, Obama stepped out of the rut of usual argumentation on the race question to follow “another path.” He disavowed the apparently white racist words of his pastor, but he declined to disassociate himself from the black community. He expressed continued respect for his friend and spiritual mentor --a politically “unwise” thing to do. But he embraced the cause of his fellow African-Americans in their longing for equal and fair treatment. He voiced his understanding of how blacks could be angry about being the brunt of white racist actions, but at the same time rejected any semblance of reaction-in-kind. He modeled an even keel not often found in race contentions. Maybe it takes a man with a black father and a white mother, as is Obama’s heritage, to be able to put the race question in balance and to serve as a nurse for both the sick and the threatened.

The marvel is that a politician would have the fortitude to decline to follow the expedient route of pandering to the group who has the most votes. Instead, he took a risky, more courageous stance. He acknowledged the sordid history of racism in America without apologizing for the indignation of a black preacher, yet refused to approve of the apparently racists response-in-kind of Rev. Wright’s words. He risked losing everybody’s vote by this tactic. But it was the right thing to do. When was the last time we have seen a politician act this way? As David Gergen (CNN analyst) put it, it is refreshing to hear a candidate speak to us voters as if we are adults.

With both white and black parentage, but as only a small child during the black activist movements of the 1960’s, Obama is genetically disposed, and historically positioned, to show the way to an end of racial division, of whatever color, that has hobbled the American democratic promise from its first planting in the New World. If he himself does not remove the roadblock for black Americans, by being elected President, he at least will be a traffic sign pointing to the freeway onramp.

Whatever the voters decide in the remaining primaries and November election, Obama’s sense of democracy’s promise will assure his speech a place in American history. Martin Luther King, Jr., had a dream about racial unity. Reverend Wright’s words were a lingering echo of the more embattled 1960’s. Obama’s speech is a calm invitation to merge the streams of traffic in our national life. His message of hope is for all Americans, a new concept the older Rev. Wright couldn’t own.

Obama’s oration received rave reviews from all sides, but, interestingly, I had to go to the internet to hear it. Unlike the looped replays of Wright’s excerpts, constantly run on the TV network shows, Obama’s speech took intentionality to get to. If the public responds to this new kind of “political wisdom,” it will have to be without the help of the news media.

The path the Illinois Senator outlined needed certain oratorical skills and charismatic vision to chart, qualities rarely found among politicians. The path he chose was the high road, a road most political operatives thought would lead him to a train wreck, but which if negotiated skillfully can leave an audience gasping in wonder.

If you were able to listen to the whole speech, you may have noticed an eerie silence from the audience, until Obama lifted his finger for a moment off the damp race wound and spoke of other pressing national problems. At this point applause, for the first time, interrupted him, as if the audience was responding with palpable emotional release. It reminds me of the odd momentary dead quiet reported at the end of Lincoln’s Gettysburg Address. It has been awhile since we have seen a political animal who had the instinct and the pluck to travel a visionary route through a confusion of voices. He traded anger for healing passion--a blend of Patrick Henry and Martin Luther King ,Jr. The 1770’s have arrived at the 21st century.

(Just a side note, don’t mistake this quality of courage and oratorical skill with the ostrich stubbornness that our otherwise Chief Articulator has styled as leadership.)

Now if Hillary Clinton will give us a “high road” speech showing a woman’s understanding of how to nurture international relationships, live practically within our means, and cooperate with our environment, and if John McCain could give us a “high road” speech on how to “win” without “killing” our enemies (along with ourselves), then I will have a heaven of a problem choosing for whom to vote ! !

Doug Good

Swimming For Shore (or For Sure): How to assemble your convictions

Americans have fun during election campaigns hyperventilating about their candidates. Recently I read a rant by a fellow who was alarmed at the risk of electing someone with an Arab sounding name (obviously Barack Obama). He extrapolated that no Muslim could be a safe choice for national office because his loyalties would always conflict with true American values and convictions. He proposed a list of test questions that would identify all those disqualified to be true Americans. But running through his test, it appears that anyone alive on the continent would be disqualified on one or several grounds. You could not be irreligious, wrongly religious, born elsewhere, have ancestors born elsewhere, or even be a native American for various reasons. This writer suggested that anyone with any mark of suspicion should be exported. He thought his own personal convictions were the perfect match for American values. This man had strong convictions, but his certainties had lost touch with the original values of those with whom he wanted to identify--namely, true Americans. When I responded to the person who had shared this screed with me, I referred to what I called my own “emerging convictions.” He wondered what I meant, so I came up with a blog. Here are my thoughts on certifying ones convictions. When I was a youngster, I thought convictions were what adults had and wanted me to drink. Upon reaching the "age of accountability," I would have the responsibility to choose to "own" these convictions for myself, as my parents articulated and exemplified them, or if I proved rebellious, I might pick them up somewhere else in altered form. I thought of convictions as items on a shelf that you walk up to and select, or items offered as certified and judged to be safe--things one accepts, or concepts you take title to, as in "buying into." It would be something like loading up a backpack and carrying the contents through life. And if I really believe in my load, I will not worry if backpacks go out of fashion. Knowing that my convictions are secure on my back, I can be confident and relaxed. When needed, I can reach in and pull out a conviction to enlighten a scoffer, or settle an argument, or use as a pointer for my children. From this perspective, convictions are something we "have." But when I speak of "emerging convictions," I have something else in mind. Rather, I "am" my convictions, and always have been. Even children have budding convictions. Accountability kicks in at an appropriate age, when reason starts to function. But reason ultimately plays only a consulting role. Experience, rather, is the deep flowing determiner of personal conviction. When we try to order our adult world with a “set” of convictions we have adopted or posted as our "rules," they lose the suppleness so helpful in weathering life's strong winds. Convictions emerge. How does one determine where one is in the emerging process? The first thing to do is ask where you "got" your convictions. Avoid scales or score cards. Somebody else makes those up. If your convictions do not "emerge" from your own experiences, they won't hold up. I try to engage in candid introspection and work from where I "am." Candid is a key word, for it clears the trail for the emerging to make progress. I know better than anyone (when I'm candid) whether my convictions are sound. And if I am alert, I will notice my convictions ripening. Don't worry about this sounding as if I choose to float downstream, following unpredictable swirls of current that might leave me stranded in an eddy. I notice that after every heavy rain, our mountain creek is slightly, yet in some places noticeably, reconfigured. I have found that as my convictions season; the only core change from earlier formulations is increased vitality as I sense that the river inexorably leads to the great sea. If I were to express to you some of my most deeply felt spiritual convictions, they might sound at odds with the formulations mapped out for me by my parents and Sunday School teachers. Meanwhile my personal spiritual vocabulary has taken its own roots. I'm not saying I am more spiritually advanced than my parents. I'm only saying that my expression of basic convictions reflects, and arises from, my own gnarly life trail. Experience gives conviction its persuasiveness. This is where reading inspired writings can be serendipitous. There I can compare what I am experiencing with what others have discovered. If the connection welds, my convictions gain assurance. But they won't weld by simply downloading, printing, and filing for easy retrieval. If what I "have” does not amalgamate, it sits inert. What we "are" emerges, as a sapling's root that soon heaves aside the paved sidewalk. It only remains for us to notice. The difference between having and being your convictions, is the difference between asserting and exuding. When we encounter advice, we check the academic credentials, or the organization the advisor represents. But when wise persons offer counsel, we just sense they know whereof they speak, or they would not have a reputation for wisdom. A held conviction stands to be sold. A living conviction sells itself. A true conviction cannot be passed on; the action is in the receiver who gets it by self-initiated connecting. I know it is a lot easier to chart a composite and well-approved set of convictions to live by. But catechetical answers leave me unconvinced. I scrutinize things until I can explain them the way I experience them, not how someone else describes them. I may sound unorthodox at times, but if you go the whole circle with me, you may just see me back at the starting point with a wardrobe well suited to keep me spiritually outfitted. But I'm not there yet, I'm still emerging. Does my concept of “emerging convictions” have any theological basis? My explanation may sound unconventional, but only because the usual way of talking about convictions is backwards. In order to impart a concept, teachers symbolize. For example, to commemorate the Christian salvation experiential moment, we “baptize” converts, which implies “immersion.” But to me the word “emerse” seems to say it better (the prefix “i” or “e” determines the direction of the “merge”-- either “into” or “out from”). When you immerse, you dunk. The dipper forces the action, and the dippee sputters his consent. Emersion turns the action away from the catechizer to the catechete. To be “born again” is something you experience, not something someone does to you. To symbolize the event and confirm its importance, John the Baptist, stressed ceremony. But let’s go behind the baptismal ceremony and revision the conviction. Jesus did not baptize people. John did it because he wasn’t Jesus. When Jesus used the birth metaphor, he did not say we are re-fetalized. He was describing the experience of emersion. We get “born right”; we consummate our birth; in the salvation moment we “emerse,” validating it by experiencing it. Expanding this example to apply to our journey through life, rather than being transported, we continue our trip from the birth canal eventually to "arrive" at the great sea. Our backpack of convictions becomes our skin and we “emerge,” as a swimmer lifting his head above water. Doug Good