Trail 2010: A View From the Periphery

I’ve been writing about the pilgrimage to Juquila.
But I will digress from that for a moment
to write about some absolutely amazing young people.

But let me preface the story about them
with a few quotes
and then,
a few of my own thoughts.

First,
a quote from one of our church’s
most well known saints,
St. Augustine.
“An unjust law is no law at all.”

Why,
even the late great
Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
quoted St. Augustine
in his Letter From a Birmingham Jail.
Dr. King also said that,
“One has a moral responsibility
to disobey unjust laws.”

Now,
what mainstream U.S.A.
might call justice could be one thing.
But what I,
a faith filled
Spirit led
woman
understand justice to be
might be another thing entirely.
As people of faith,
we constantly find ourselves
going against the grain,
do we not?

And my point of view
is colored by my position
in the periphery.
Sometimes I’m pushed here.
And sometimes I simple choose
to stay in the periphery
because I can see things
much more clearly here.
The voices
of The Beatitude People
are so clearly heard here.
When I leave the periphery
I find it hard to hear them
above all the nonsense noise.
And,
truth be told,
I prefer the periphery.
It keeps me grounded.
The periphery,
for me,
is a Holy Land.

The theologian,
Dr. Ada Maria Isasi-Diaz,
speaks of those in the margins
as being optional people,
pushed to the periphery
by those who see them as unnecessary.
Sadly,
it is often people claiming Christianity
who push others to the periphery,
who behave as some
are optional to history,
optional to salvation history.

So,
as a faith filled person,
What do I believe?
Well,
of course I believe in the Holy Trinity.
Of course I believe
in the sacraments,
devotions to the saints
and our Most Blessed Mother.
But that is hardly all there is.

I also believe
that some things
are fundamental
to all human beings.

I believe that
food and shelter
are fundamental.

Yes,
Food, physical nourishment,
is a basic primal need.
We should feed the hungry.
Period.
I have no need
to first see their green card.
If they are hungry,
and it is in my capacity to do so,
I should feed them.
This is what I believe.

And I honesty believe
that hunger is about more than food.
But more on that in a moment.

This I believe:
Primal Needs First.
Other things,
I believe,
can wait.
And eating
is a fundamental human right.
Feeding the hungry, then,
is a basic Christian action.

I believe education
and shelter
and medical care
are all
basic human rights.

I believe that words have power.
The Word,
after all,
became flesh.
God spoke
and all came to be.

You may not be standing
in the periphery with me.
And that’s OK.
We must all stand somewhere
and this is where the dialogue begins.
And this being the case,
you may have
a different point of view than I do
because the point from which you stand
is not in the margin with me.
But words,
regardless of which point they originate from,
have power.
I believe this.

While your point of view
may be as such
that you believe her mother
and/or her father to be
illegal,
please do not call the child
an “anchor.”
She is innocent of any crime.
She did not break any law,
neither a just law
nor an unjust law.
She is not an “anchor,”
but a beautiful child of God.
This
I believe:
Words have power.
I, myself,
will continue to call this child,
and all children
that find themselves
standing in this periphery,
a Beautiful Child of God.
Because that is what she is.
And because words of power.
And she should hear these words
and know who she is.

Many, many years ago
a friend of mine
was in quite a state of flux.
She wanted so much
to attend college but was so afraid.
Just after she graduated from high school
she learned
that she was an undocumented.
Her parents came to the U.S.
while she was but an infant.
She had always known
that she was born in Mexico,
but never knew
that her family
had never done the legal paperwork.
The end result
was that she did not attend school.
A few years later
she fell in love and married a man
who happened to be a U.S. citizen.
After an entire lifetime in the U.S.,
she finally became a U.S. citizen.
But the years have passed
and she never did attend
an institution of higher learning.
Though I must admit,
we all learned so much
from her experience.
And this experience
is played out time and again
in the periphery.

You may disagree with me
about her parents.
And you may choose
to call them “illegal”
while I prefer to say
that they are “undocumented.”
But regardless of where
you and I stand
in terms of the parents,
the children are innocent.

Had there been some ogres
in my friend’s story
she and her parents
could have been deported.
And that would have been so unjust
because she
would have been sent
to what would,
quite literally,
have been a foreign country to her.
But her brothers and sisters,
having been born in the U.S.,
and were thus U.S. citizens,
would not have been deported,
but sent to foster care instead.
This did not happen to my friend at the time.
But it is happening every day
in the periphery.
Yes, St. Augustine,
I totally agree with you.
An unjust law
is no law at all.

And now that I have given you
all of this verbiage,
on to the amazing story
of some absolutely awe inspiring youth.

And,
what I see as their ring-leader,
Ms. Gaby Pacheco.
Their website states this about Señorita Gaby:
“Gaby was declared a “gifted student” at a very young age and has since excelled at all levels of school. In the process of securing three education degrees at Miami Dade College, she has realized what she wants to do with her many talents and education: use music therapy as a communication tool to teach autistic children and adults. Gaby’s parents brought her to the U.S. from Ecuador in 1993, when she was 7 years old. In 2006, federal immigration agents raided her home, and Gaby’s family has been fighting deportation ever since. The only possession from home Gaby carries on her journey is a Bible, which she reads daily for inspiration.”

Wow!
See what I mean?
Words have power!
Someone recognized her gifts
and called her a “gifted student”
at a young age and then
she further excelled in school!
Twenty-five years old
and she wants to use music
to teach the autistic!
And she carries and reads her Bible!
You go, Gaby Girl!
I would love to have
a young woman like her
in my neighborhood!
. . . .but as I am oft known to do,
I digress. . . .

You see,
from the periphery
I can see all of the gifts and talents.
But others,
those who stand somewhere else,
might only see the federal agents.

This profile tells us
that Gaby is on a journey.
Gaby, and several other youth
who find themselves
in the same situation,
are walking. .
. . and walking. . .
And walking. . .
Some 18 miles a day. . .
Sharing their story.
Walking from Miami, FL
to Washington D.C.
Walking and talking,
sharing their stories along the way.

Other youth walking include
Felipe,
ranked as one of the top 20
community college students
in the United States. . .
Let me say that again:
Felipe is one of the top 20 community college students
in THE UNITED STATES;
Carlos,
who wanted to serve
the only country he has ever known
in the military
but was not permitted to
because of his immigration status;
Juan,
who came to the U.S. from Columbia
as a small child with his family
escaping the threats
to their safety.

Of the four youth,
Juan is the only one who is documented.
But having lived a great part of his life
as an undocumented,
feels a responsibility here
and so he, too, walks.

And so,
these young people are walking.
My last “Juquila” blog entry
was about processions
and the Work of the People:
Laos Ergon.
These young people,
these Trail 2010 people,
are walking toward something sacred.
They are in movement,
leaving something behind
toward something more,
something different,
something better,
something sacred.
The sacredness they seek:
to belong.

They are not responsible
for the path their parents took,
regardless of what point of view
you or I may have about their parents.
But they are very proactive
about the path they are taking now.
It is an Exodus from the Periphery
straight to the Center;
daring,
dangerous,
and sacred.

And it is a dangerous journey.
If you haven’t spent a great amount of time
in the periphery,
you probably haven’t seen the danger.
But it is out there,
even if you can’t see it.
But I see it.
And I recognize it.
There are people who hate
and act upon that hate
with tremendous violence.
But if you are reading this
from your place in the Ivory Tower,
you probably don’t have a clue
to what I’m speaking of here.
The point from which you stand
may just be
too far removed from the periphery
to be able to see.

I recognize
the valor it takes
for these young people
to do something like this.
Valor:
Something I dare say is missing
from many a Christian these days.

And I dare to call their journey sacred
because they seek to create a justice.

I dare to call this journey sacred
because they risk deportation
for the sake of a better life,
not only for themselves,
but also for others.

I dare to call this journey sacred
because they have touched me
and awakened me
and moved me to action.

Action:
That’s the part
where many a faith filled person fails.
We believe when we are in church in Sunday.
Oh, and maybe there is grace said at the dinner table
or other recited prayers during the course of the week.
But we often fail
in terms of action
outside of our homes
and off of the acre of land we call “church.”
“In what I have done and
in what I have failed to do. . . .”

From the periphery
I see some outstanding
intellectual,
gifted
and
talented youth
on a very sacred journey,
any one of which
I would be proud to have
as my own son or daughter.
I would gladly give them
a home cooked meal
or
a bed to sleep in at night.
I have no need
to see legal documents
to know that they are good people.
I would feed them and house them
when and if they were to need food and shelter,
because that’s the sort of thing we do
in the periphery.
That’s the sort thing I do
as a woman of faith:
Feed the hungry.
Feeding the hungry
is so basic, is it not?
And,
the truth be told,
I see young people starving for justice.
I bet St. Augustine sees them, too.

God bless
Gaby, Felipe, Carlos and Juan
and others who join them on this journey.
God bless the sacred journey.
God bless
the periphery.

St. Augustine, Pray For Us.

You can visit the youth here:
Trail 2010.org

The Mission

I don’t go to the movies much these days.
I only have basic cable
and I can tell you that I watch more
Little House on the Prairie,
Seventh Heaven, and Touched by an Angel
than anything else.

OK,
I do manage to watch Beverly Hillbillies
and I Love Lucy reruns.
(Ricky Ricardo was a Latino before his time,
but that’s another blog entry!)

When my sons were younger,
we’d be at the theater every other week.
My eldest sons are now in their twenties.
But,
I can tell you
that when my sons were training to become altar servers
they were top notch,
remembering all of the special names of things liturgical.

I’ll never forget when Fr. Kelly
asked the group of young folks in front of him
what the name of the this was,
as he pointed to the ambo.
My boys were the only ones to raise their hands.
When called upon,
they answered correctly.
"How did you remember that,"
asked the priest.
My sons responded in the only way
a moving going youngster could,
"Because it’s like Rambo,
only without the ‘r.’"

Yes, the Rambo movies
were quite popular in the mid 80's.
But there was another movie
that went almost unnoticed
around the same time.
In fact,
I think it was more popular South of the Border
than in the United States.
It starred a very young Robert De Niro.
So young, in fact,
that when I watched the movie last night,
I barely recognized him.
It was his voice that gave him away. . .

Anyway, thinking of this film for a few days recently,
I went to my local video renting place
to see if I could find a copy.
Sadly, they didn’t carry it.
Couldn’t find it at the library either.
I did the only thing I could do:
I bought it online over at Amazon.com

It’s a true story about a Jesuit mission
and the wonderful gift of music
God has graced an indigenous community with.

It’s a story that begins
with a missionary
gaining the trust and confidence of the indigenous
through music.
It’s a story that ends
with music that survives
when not much else does.
(And this reminds of the woman
who works at the archdiocese
who told me music isn’t evangelization,
but that’s another blog entry as well!)

It’s a movie about brave and daring missionaries,
and dare I say,
very hard working men,
who brought Christ
to those the world said
where nothing more than animals without souls.

It’s a story about men
who trap other men and use them for slaves.
It’s also a story about men
who are slaves to wealth and power.

It’s a story about a bishop
who knew what was right, just and moral
but deciding to side
with those of earthly power and greed.

It’s a story about murder,
conversion and penance.
And a story about forgiveness.

It’s a story about one man’s
journey of faith
as he answers the call to priesthood.

It’s a story about the horrors experienced
by a community
and the Jesuits who risked their very lives,
indeed, risked excommunication
to protect and guard the sacred
when the church, herself, would not.

Buy it.
Rent it.
Just watch it.
The name of the movie is,
"The Mission."
It starring Robert De Niro and Jeremy Irons.
It will tug and your heart strings.

And then make you all the more hungry and thirsty for justice.
What’s scary,
is that it also opens your eyes
to where many of the injustices lie.

. . . .The thing is,
justice cannot be lukewarm.
Yes,
that’s a very scary thought. . . .

The Church of Google

A friend recently sent me an email about boycotting Google. Although he cleaned it up a bit, I believe it was one of those forwards that got forwarded. To tell the truth, I followed the link in the email and it made me laugh out loud. But I decided to investigate this.

First of all, let me say that I like Google. In all honestly, I would be hard pressed to follow through with such a boycott. You’re reading this blog because Google owns blogger. I YouTube a little. Youtube is owned by Google. I use Google Analytics and Google’s webmasters tools. I search primarily on Google and I also have several Google alerts.

And Google set up shop not too long ago in Michigan. In this day and age when Michigan is suffering so much economically, Google stepped into our fair state and brought some jobs. I thank God for this, and I thank the Google Guys as well. In fact, Google Ann Arbor is hiring. . . I just checked!

So, Boycott Google? Why, at this point in life, it would not only be a life-altering experience, it would mess a little bit with my sense of justice.

The reason for the boycott is a website that claims Google is God and has established a Church of Google. As I said, I followed the link and really thought the whole thing was a joke. Now, I’m the first one to say that we need to be careful about such things. I mean, if the church is sacred, then She is sacred and we ought to treat Her as such. But really, we do need to poke fun and laugh at things every now and again. Poking fun and enjoying a good laugh is not necessarily the same as sacrilege. So. . . what of this site?

I decided to do some research of my own.

TheChurchOfGoogle.org is, in fact, NOT owned by Google at all. If those suggesting we boycott Google read the fine print at the bottom of the page, they would have realized this. I debated about whether or not I should put that link in. I don't suggest anyone join the church of google or anything like that. . . But I mean, even the "Googlism" at the top of the page isn't quite the Google Logo. And even I, a non-graphic artist, can see that.

Alas, sometimes we are so quick to forward things, not realizing the harm this may cause. And to tell the truth, this is beginning to anger me. But I digress.

That website states that the Church of Google was founded by someone named MacPherson of Ontario. The domain, however, is registered to someone named Leudy. Now, I won’t list details on this blog because that would just be wrong. But a little e-investigation and one can find out all sorts of information about website owners.

For example, the domain name was purchased at GoDaddy.com. Now, all things considered, would Google buy a domain at GoDaddy?? Come on, folks. Let’s get real here.

But there are a few lessons to be learned here.

You know, we tell our kids to be careful on MySpace. We tell them to avoid chat rooms. At my house, no one clears the URLs but me, The Mom. I decide when PC cleaners are run. . . .I know where you’ve been online. I know what your doing. I’m The Mom. That’s my job.

But you know, sometimes it’s the adults who just don’t get it. We must remember that what we write in our emails can be announced to the world. Cut and Paste. Fowards. It’s just too easy. Before we really forward information about a boycott we’d better be sure we have all of our facts straight. Anything less is, in fact, less than Christian behavior.

The other thing that is a little frightening is that the person who purchased this domain name didn’t bother with a privacy certificate. Domains by Proxy is an excellent service. But she didn’t bother. Sadly, she’s probably going to get inundated with all sorts of hate mail. . .both snail mail and electronic mail. I was able to find an email address, a street address, phone number. . . .it’s just too scarey. And all I did was search. I mean, I’m not black hat or white hat (probably closer to red hat!). My point is, it’s just too easy to find private info if one isn’t careful. You don’t need to be technically gifted at all.

See what I mean?
We try to teach our kids about online safety, when we aren’t practicing it ourselves. If you’re going to buy a domain for personal use, register for privacy. If it’s for a business and you want your business info out there, make sure you register with business address and information.

And for goodness sakes, if you’re going to forward information about a boycott make sure you’re boycotting what you’re boycotting for the right reasons. Do the research. Anything less is gossip. Period.

Google isn’t god, but is an internet giant. I’m certain that Google and the Google Guys don’t need me defending them. I’m certain Google has top-notch lawyers for that.

But I will defend my faith. And my beliefs are as such that I won’t forward a forward of a forward regarding any boycott until I investigate it for myself. It’s a justice thing. It’s the moral thing. It’s the right thing. It’s the Christian thing.

A Letter from a Birmingham Jail

Martin Luther King, Jr. wrote the following letter after a public statement was issued by eight white religious leaders cautioning him. I was only five months old when he wrote this letter, but somehow it has become one of those pieces of written works that has helped to define who I am.

Perhaps it has something to do with the section in this letter where he writes, "when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading 'white' and 'colored.'" I can draw a parallel as my father often told me stories of similar signs for "browns only" when I was growing up.

And the fact is, I like letters. Maybe that's why a wrote a letter to St. Peter or two. Maybe that's why a previous blog entry included a letter from Oscar Romero.

Thank you, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. There are those whose struggle is somehow easier knowing that you dared to do and say things. . .like something so simple as to write a letter.

- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

16 April 1963

My Dear Fellow Clergymen:

While confined here in the Birmingham city jail, I came across your recent statement calling my present activities "unwise and untimely." Seldom do I pause to answer criticism of my work and ideas. If I sought to answer all the criticisms that cross my desk, my secretaries would have little time for anything other than such correspondence in the course of the day, and I would have no time for constructive work. But since I feel that you are men of genuine good will and that your criticisms are sincerely set forth, I want to try to answer your statement in what I hope will be patient and reasonable terms.

I think I should indicate why I am here in Birmingham, since you have been influenced by the view which argues against "outsiders coming in." I have the honor of serving as president of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference, an organization operating in every southern state, with headquarters in Atlanta, Georgia. We have some eighty five affiliated organizations across the South, and one of them is the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights. Frequently we share staff, educational and financial resources with our affiliates. Several months ago the affiliate here in Birmingham asked us to be on call to engage in a nonviolent direct action program if such were deemed necessary. We readily consented, and when the hour came we lived up to our promise. So I, along with several members of my staff, am here because I was invited here. I am here because I have organizational ties here.

But more basically, I am in Birmingham because injustice is here. Just as the prophets of the eighth century B.C. left their villages and carried their "thus saith the Lord" far beyond the boundaries of their home towns, and just as the Apostle Paul left his village of Tarsus and carried the gospel of Jesus Christ to the far corners of the Greco Roman world, so am I compelled to carry the gospel of freedom beyond my own home town. Like Paul, I must constantly respond to the Macedonian call for aid.

Moreover, I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states. I cannot sit idly by in Atlanta and not be concerned about what happens in Birmingham. Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly, affects all indirectly. Never again can we afford to live with the narrow, provincial "outside agitator" idea. Anyone who lives inside the United States can never be considered an outsider anywhere within its bounds.

You deplore the demonstrations taking place in Birmingham. But your statement, I am sorry to say, fails to express a similar concern for the conditions that brought about the demonstrations. I am sure that none of you would want to rest content with the superficial kind of social analysis that deals merely with effects and does not grapple with underlying causes. It is unfortunate that demonstrations are taking place in Birmingham, but it is even more unfortunate that the city's white power structure left the Negro community with no alternative.

In any nonviolent campaign there are four basic steps: collection of the facts to determine whether injustices exist; negotiation; self purification; and direct action. We have gone through all these steps in Birmingham. There can be no gainsaying the fact that racial injustice engulfs this community. Birmingham is probably the most thoroughly segregated city in the United States. Its ugly record of brutality is widely known. Negroes have experienced grossly unjust treatment in the courts. There have been more unsolved bombings of Negro homes and churches in Birmingham than in any other city in the nation. These are the hard, brutal facts of the case. On the basis of these conditions, Negro leaders sought to negotiate with the city fathers. But the latter consistently refused to engage in good faith negotiation.

Then, last September, came the opportunity to talk with leaders of Birmingham's economic community. In the course of the negotiations, certain promises were made by the merchants--for example, to remove the stores' humiliating racial signs. On the basis of these promises, the Reverend Fred Shuttlesworth and the leaders of the Alabama Christian Movement for Human Rights agreed to a moratorium on all demonstrations. As the weeks and months went by, we realized that we were the victims of a broken promise. A few signs, briefly removed, returned; the others remained. As in so many past experiences, our hopes had been blasted, and the shadow of deep disappointment settled upon us. We had no alternative except to prepare for direct action, whereby we would present our very bodies as a means of laying our case before the conscience of the local and the national community. Mindful of the difficulties involved, we decided to undertake a process of self purification. We began a series of workshops on nonviolence, and we repeatedly asked ourselves: "Are you able to accept blows without retaliating?" "Are you able to endure the ordeal of jail?" We decided to schedule our direct action program for the Easter season, realizing that except for Christmas, this is the main shopping period of the year. Knowing that a strong economic-withdrawal program would be the by product of direct action, we felt that this would be the best time to bring pressure to bear on the merchants for the needed change.

Then it occurred to us that Birmingham's mayoral election was coming up in March, and we speedily decided to postpone action until after election day. When we discovered that the Commissioner of Public Safety, Eugene "Bull" Connor, had piled up enough votes to be in the run off, we decided again to postpone action until the day after the run off so that the demonstrations could not be used to cloud the issues. Like many others, we waited to see Mr. Connor defeated, and to this end we endured postponement after postponement. Having aided in this community need, we felt that our direct action program could be delayed no longer.

You may well ask: "Why direct action? Why sit ins, marches and so forth? Isn't negotiation a better path?" You are quite right in calling for negotiation. Indeed, this is the very purpose of direct action. Nonviolent direct action seeks to create such a crisis and foster such a tension that a community which has constantly refused to negotiate is forced to confront the issue. It seeks so to dramatize the issue that it can no longer be ignored. My citing the creation of tension as part of the work of the nonviolent resister may sound rather shocking. But I must confess that I am not afraid of the word "tension." I have earnestly opposed violent tension, but there is a type of constructive, nonviolent tension which is necessary for growth. Just as Socrates felt that it was necessary to create a tension in the mind so that individuals could rise from the bondage of myths and half truths to the unfettered realm of creative analysis and objective appraisal, so must we see the need for nonviolent gadflies to create the kind of tension in society that will help men rise from the dark depths of prejudice and racism to the majestic heights of understanding and brotherhood. The purpose of our direct action program is to create a situation so crisis packed that it will inevitably open the door to negotiation. I therefore concur with you in your call for negotiation. Too long has our beloved Southland been bogged down in a tragic effort to live in monologue rather than dialogue.

One of the basic points in your statement is that the action that I and my associates have taken in Birmingham is untimely. Some have asked: "Why didn't you give the new city administration time to act?" The only answer that I can give to this query is that the new Birmingham administration must be prodded about as much as the outgoing one, before it will act. We are sadly mistaken if we feel that the election of Albert Boutwell as mayor will bring the millennium to Birmingham. While Mr. Boutwell is a much more gentle person than Mr. Connor, they are both segregationists, dedicated to maintenance of the status quo. I have hope that Mr. Boutwell will be reasonable enough to see the futility of massive resistance to desegregation. But he will not see this without pressure from devotees of civil rights. My friends, I must say to you that we have not made a single gain in civil rights without determined legal and nonviolent pressure. Lamentably, it is an historical fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their unjust posture; but, as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups tend to be more immoral than individuals.

We know through painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it must be demanded by the oppressed. Frankly, I have yet to engage in a direct action campaign that was "well timed" in the view of those who have not suffered unduly from the disease of segregation. For years now I have heard the word "Wait!" It rings in the ear of every Negro with piercing familiarity. This "Wait" has almost always meant "Never." We must come to see, with one of our distinguished jurists, that "justice too long delayed is justice denied."

We have waited for more than 340 years for our constitutional and God given rights. The nations of Asia and Africa are moving with jetlike speed toward gaining political independence, but we still creep at horse and buggy pace toward gaining a cup of coffee at a lunch counter. Perhaps it is easy for those who have never felt the stinging darts of segregation to say, "Wait." But when you have seen vicious mobs lynch your mothers and fathers at will and drown your sisters and brothers at whim; when you have seen hate filled policemen curse, kick and even kill your black brothers and sisters; when you see the vast majority of your twenty million Negro brothers smothering in an airtight cage of poverty in the midst of an affluent society; when you suddenly find your tongue twisted and your speech stammering as you seek to explain to your six year old daughter why she can't go to the public amusement park that has just been advertised on television, and see tears welling up in her eyes when she is told that Funtown is closed to colored children, and see ominous clouds of inferiority beginning to form in her little mental sky, and see her beginning to distort her personality by developing an unconscious bitterness toward white people; when you have to concoct an answer for a five year old son who is asking: "Daddy, why do white people treat colored people so mean?"; when you take a cross county drive and find it necessary to sleep night after night in the uncomfortable corners of your automobile because no motel will accept you; when you are humiliated day in and day out by nagging signs reading "white" and "colored"; when your first name becomes "nigger," your middle name becomes "boy" (however old you are) and your last name becomes "John," and your wife and mother are never given the respected title "Mrs."; when you are harried by day and haunted by night by the fact that you are a Negro, living constantly at tiptoe stance, never quite knowing what to expect next, and are plagued with inner fears and outer resentments; when you are forever fighting a degenerating sense of "nobodiness"--then you will understand why we find it difficult to wait. There comes a time when the cup of endurance runs over, and men are no longer willing to be plunged into the abyss of despair. I hope, sirs, you can understand our legitimate and unavoidable impatience. You express a great deal of anxiety over our willingness to break laws. This is certainly a legitimate concern. Since we so diligently urge people to obey the Supreme Court's decision of 1954 outlawing segregation in the public schools, at first glance it may seem rather paradoxical for us consciously to break laws. One may well ask: "How can you advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?" The answer lies in the fact that there are two types of laws: just and unjust. I would be the first to advocate obeying just laws. One has not only a legal but a moral responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to disobey unjust laws. I would agree with St. Augustine that "an unjust law is no law at all."

Now, what is the difference between the two? How does one determine whether a law is just or unjust? A just law is a man made code that squares with the moral law or the law of God. An unjust law is a code that is out of harmony with the moral law. To put it in the terms of St. Thomas Aquinas: An unjust law is a human law that is not rooted in eternal law and natural law. Any law that uplifts human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust. All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distorts the soul and damages the personality. It gives the segregator a false sense of superiority and the segregated a false sense of inferiority. Segregation, to use the terminology of the Jewish philosopher Martin Buber, substitutes an "I it" relationship for an "I thou" relationship and ends up relegating persons to the status of things. Hence segregation is not only politically, economically and sociologically unsound, it is morally wrong and sinful. Paul Tillich has said that sin is separation. Is not segregation an existential expression of man's tragic separation, his awful estrangement, his terrible sinfulness? Thus it is that I can urge men to obey the 1954 decision of the Supreme Court, for it is morally right; and I can urge them to disobey segregation ordinances, for they are morally wrong.

Let us consider a more concrete example of just and unjust laws. An unjust law is a code that a numerical or power majority group compels a minority group to obey but does not make binding on itself. This is difference made legal. By the same token, a just law is a code that a majority compels a minority to follow and that it is willing to follow itself. This is sameness made legal. Let me give another explanation. A law is unjust if it is inflicted on a minority that, as a result of being denied the right to vote, had no part in enacting or devising the law. Who can say that the legislature of Alabama which set up that state's segregation laws was democratically elected? Throughout Alabama all sorts of devious methods are used to prevent Negroes from becoming registered voters, and there are some counties in which, even though Negroes constitute a majority of the population, not a single Negro is registered. Can any law enacted under such circumstances be considered democratically structured?

Sometimes a law is just on its face and unjust in its application. For instance, I have been arrested on a charge of parading without a permit. Now, there is nothing wrong in having an ordinance which requires a permit for a parade. But such an ordinance becomes unjust when it is used to maintain segregation and to deny citizens the First-Amendment privilege of peaceful assembly and protest.

I hope you are able to see the distinction I am trying to point out. In no sense do I advocate evading or defying the law, as would the rabid segregationist. That would lead to anarchy. One who breaks an unjust law must do so openly, lovingly, and with a willingness to accept the penalty. I submit that an individual who breaks a law that conscience tells him is unjust, and who willingly accepts the penalty of imprisonment in order to arouse the conscience of the community over its injustice, is in reality expressing the highest respect for law.

Of course, there is nothing new about this kind of civil disobedience. It was evidenced sublimely in the refusal of Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego to obey the laws of Nebuchadnezzar, on the ground that a higher moral law was at stake. It was practiced superbly by the early Christians, who were willing to face hungry lions and the excruciating pain of chopping blocks rather than submit to certain unjust laws of the Roman Empire. To a degree, academic freedom is a reality today because Socrates practiced civil disobedience. In our own nation, the Boston Tea Party represented a massive act of civil disobedience.

We should never forget that everything Adolf Hitler did in Germany was "legal" and everything the Hungarian freedom fighters did in Hungary was "illegal." It was "illegal" to aid and comfort a Jew in Hitler's Germany. Even so, I am sure that, had I lived in Germany at the time, I would have aided and comforted my Jewish brothers. If today I lived in a Communist country where certain principles dear to the Christian faith are suppressed, I would openly advocate disobeying that country's antireligious laws.

I must make two honest confessions to you, my Christian and Jewish brothers. First, I must confess that over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Counciler or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate, who is more devoted to "order" than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says: "I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I cannot agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically believes he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by a mythical concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a "more convenient season." Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.

I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that law and order exist for the purpose of establishing justice and that when they fail in this purpose they become the dangerously structured dams that block the flow of social progress. I had hoped that the white moderate would understand that the present tension in the South is a necessary phase of the transition from an obnoxious negative peace, in which the Negro passively accepted his unjust plight, to a substantive and positive peace, in which all men will respect the dignity and worth of human personality. Actually, we who engage in nonviolent direct action are not the creators of tension. We merely bring to the surface the hidden tension that is already alive. We bring it out in the open, where it can be seen and dealt with. Like a boil that can never be cured so long as it is covered up but must be opened with all its ugliness to the natural medicines of air and light, injustice must be exposed, with all the tension its exposure creates, to the light of human conscience and the air of national opinion before it can be cured.

In your statement you assert that our actions, even though peaceful, must be condemned because they precipitate violence. But is this a logical assertion? Isn't this like condemning a robbed man because his possession of money precipitated the evil act of robbery? Isn't this like condemning Socrates because his unswerving commitment to truth and his philosophical inquiries precipitated the act by the misguided populace in which they made him drink hemlock? Isn't this like condemning Jesus because his unique God consciousness and never ceasing devotion to God's will precipitated the evil act of crucifixion? We must come to see that, as the federal courts have consistently affirmed, it is wrong to urge an individual to cease his efforts to gain his basic constitutional rights because the quest may precipitate violence. Society must protect the robbed and punish the robber. I had also hoped that the white moderate would reject the myth concerning time in relation to the struggle for freedom. I have just received a letter from a white brother in Texas. He writes: "All Christians know that the colored people will receive equal rights eventually, but it is possible that you are in too great a religious hurry. It has taken Christianity almost two thousand years to accomplish what it has. The teachings of Christ take time to come to earth." Such an attitude stems from a tragic misconception of time, from the strangely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually, time itself is neutral; it can be used either destructively or constructively. More and more I feel that the people of ill will have used time much more effectively than have the people of good will. We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people. Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of men willing to be co workers with God, and without this hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation. We must use time creatively, in the knowledge that the time is always ripe to do right. Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy and transform our pending national elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood. Now is the time to lift our national policy from the quicksand of racial injustice to the solid rock of human dignity.

You speak of our activity in Birmingham as extreme. At first I was rather disappointed that fellow clergymen would see my nonviolent efforts as those of an extremist. I began thinking about the fact that I stand in the middle of two opposing forces in the Negro community. One is a force of complacency, made up in part of Negroes who, as a result of long years of oppression, are so drained of self respect and a sense of "somebodiness" that they have adjusted to segregation; and in part of a few middle-class Negroes who, because of a degree of academic and economic security and because in some ways they profit by segregation, have become insensitive to the problems of the masses. The other force is one of bitterness and hatred, and it comes perilously close to advocating violence. It is expressed in the various black nationalist groups that are springing up across the nation, the largest and best known being Elijah Muhammad's Muslim movement. Nourished by the Negro's frustration over the continued existence of racial discrimination, this movement is made up of people who have lost faith in America, who have absolutely repudiated Christianity, and who have concluded that the white man is an incorrigible "devil."

I have tried to stand between these two forces, saying that we need emulate neither the "do nothingism" of the complacent nor the hatred and despair of the black nationalist. For there is the more excellent way of love and nonviolent protest. I am grateful to God that, through the influence of the Negro church, the way of nonviolence became an integral part of our struggle. If this philosophy had not emerged, by now many streets of the South would, I am convinced, be flowing with blood. And I am further convinced that if our white brothers dismiss as "rabble rousers" and "outside agitators" those of us who employ nonviolent direct action, and if they refuse to support our nonviolent efforts, millions of Negroes will, out of frustration and despair, seek solace and security in black nationalist ideologies--a development that would inevitably lead to a frightening racial nightmare.

Oppressed people cannot remain oppressed forever. The yearning for freedom eventually manifests itself, and that is what has happened to the American Negro. Something within has reminded him of his birthright of freedom, and something without has reminded him that it can be gained. Consciously or unconsciously, he has been caught up by the Zeitgeist, and with his black brothers of Africa and his brown and yellow brothers of Asia, South America and the Caribbean, the United States Negro is moving with a sense of great urgency toward the promised land of racial justice. If one recognizes this vital urge that has engulfed the Negro community, one should readily understand why public demonstrations are taking place. The Negro has many pent up resentments and latent frustrations, and he must release them. So let him march; let him make prayer pilgrimages to the city hall; let him go on freedom rides -and try to understand why he must do so. If his repressed emotions are not released in nonviolent ways, they will seek expression through violence; this is not a threat but a fact of history. So I have not said to my people: "Get rid of your discontent." Rather, I have tried to say that this normal and healthy discontent can be channeled into the creative outlet of nonviolent direct action. And now this approach is being termed extremist. But though I was initially disappointed at being categorized as an extremist, as I continued to think about the matter I gradually gained a measure of satisfaction from the label. Was not Jesus an extremist for love: "Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you." Was not Amos an extremist for justice: "Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream." Was not Paul an extremist for the Christian gospel: "I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus." Was not Martin Luther an extremist: "Here I stand; I cannot do otherwise, so help me God." And John Bunyan: "I will stay in jail to the end of my days before I make a butchery of my conscience." And Abraham Lincoln: "This nation cannot survive half slave and half free." And Thomas Jefferson: "We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal . . ." So the question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be. Will we be extremists for hate or for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice or for the extension of justice? In that dramatic scene on Calvary's hill three men were crucified. We must never forget that all three were crucified for the same crime--the crime of extremism. Two were extremists for immorality, and thus fell below their environment. The other, Jesus Christ, was an extremist for love, truth and goodness, and thereby rose above his environment. Perhaps the South, the nation and the world are in dire need of creative extremists.

I had hoped that the white moderate would see this need. Perhaps I was too optimistic; perhaps I expected too much. I suppose I should have realized that few members of the oppressor race can understand the deep groans and passionate yearnings of the oppressed race, and still fewer have the vision to see that injustice must be rooted out by strong, persistent and determined action. I am thankful, however, that some of our white brothers in the South have grasped the meaning of this social revolution and committed themselves to it. They are still all too few in quantity, but they are big in quality. Some -such as Ralph McGill, Lillian Smith, Harry Golden, James McBride Dabbs, Ann Braden and Sarah Patton Boyle--have written about our struggle in eloquent and prophetic terms. Others have marched with us down nameless streets of the South. They have languished in filthy, roach infested jails, suffering the abuse and brutality of policemen who view them as "dirty nigger-lovers." Unlike so many of their moderate brothers and sisters, they have recognized the urgency of the moment and sensed the need for powerful "action" antidotes to combat the disease of segregation. Let me take note of my other major disappointment. I have been so greatly disappointed with the white church and its leadership. Of course, there are some notable exceptions. I am not unmindful of the fact that each of you has taken some significant stands on this issue. I commend you, Reverend Stallings, for your Christian stand on this past Sunday, in welcoming Negroes to your worship service on a nonsegregated basis. I commend the Catholic leaders of this state for integrating Spring Hill College several years ago.

But despite these notable exceptions, I must honestly reiterate that I have been disappointed with the church. I do not say this as one of those negative critics who can always find something wrong with the church. I say this as a minister of the gospel, who loves the church; who was nurtured in its bosom; who has been sustained by its spiritual blessings and who will remain true to it as long as the cord of life shall lengthen.

When I was suddenly catapulted into the leadership of the bus protest in Montgomery, Alabama, a few years ago, I felt we would be supported by the white church. I felt that the white ministers, priests and rabbis of the South would be among our strongest allies. Instead, some have been outright opponents, refusing to understand the freedom movement and misrepresenting its leaders; all too many others have been more cautious than courageous and have remained silent behind the anesthetizing security of stained glass windows.

In spite of my shattered dreams, I came to Birmingham with the hope that the white religious leadership of this community would see the justice of our cause and, with deep moral concern, would serve as the channel through which our just grievances could reach the power structure. I had hoped that each of you would understand. But again I have been disappointed.

I have heard numerous southern religious leaders admonish their worshipers to comply with a desegregation decision because it is the law, but I have longed to hear white ministers declare: "Follow this decree because integration is morally right and because the Negro is your brother." In the midst of blatant injustices inflicted upon the Negro, I have watched white churchmen stand on the sideline and mouth pious irrelevancies and sanctimonious trivialities. In the midst of a mighty struggle to rid our nation of racial and economic injustice, I have heard many ministers say: "Those are social issues, with which the gospel has no real concern." And I have watched many churches commit themselves to a completely other worldly religion which makes a strange, un-Biblical distinction between body and soul, between the sacred and the secular.

I have traveled the length and breadth of Alabama, Mississippi and all the other southern states. On sweltering summer days and crisp autumn mornings I have looked at the South's beautiful churches with their lofty spires pointing heavenward. I have beheld the impressive outlines of her massive religious education buildings. Over and over I have found myself asking: "What kind of people worship here? Who is their God? Where were their voices when the lips of Governor Barnett dripped with words of interposition and nullification? Where were they when Governor Wallace gave a clarion call for defiance and hatred? Where were their voices of support when bruised and weary Negro men and women decided to rise from the dark dungeons of complacency to the bright hills of creative protest?"

Yes, these questions are still in my mind. In deep disappointment I have wept over the laxity of the church. But be assured that my tears have been tears of love. There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love. Yes, I love the church. How could I do otherwise? I am in the rather unique position of being the son, the grandson and the great grandson of preachers. Yes, I see the church as the body of Christ. But, oh! How we have blemished and scarred that body through social neglect and through fear of being nonconformists.

There was a time when the church was very powerful--in the time when the early Christians rejoiced at being deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society. Whenever the early Christians entered a town, the people in power became disturbed and immediately sought to convict the Christians for being "disturbers of the peace" and "outside agitators."' But the Christians pressed on, in the conviction that they were "a colony of heaven," called to obey God rather than man. Small in number, they were big in commitment. They were too God-intoxicated to be "astronomically intimidated." By their effort and example they brought an end to such ancient evils as infanticide and gladiatorial contests. Things are different now. So often the contemporary church is a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. So often it is an archdefender of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the church's silent--and often even vocal--sanction of things as they are.

But the judgment of God is upon the church as never before. If today's church does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose its authenticity, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century. Every day I meet young people whose disappointment with the church has turned into outright disgust.

Perhaps I have once again been too optimistic. Is organized religion too inextricably bound to the status quo to save our nation and the world? Perhaps I must turn my faith to the inner spiritual church, the church within the church, as the true ekklesia and the hope of the world. But again I am thankful to God that some noble souls from the ranks of organized religion have broken loose from the paralyzing chains of conformity and joined us as active partners in the struggle for freedom. They have left their secure congregations and walked the streets of Albany, Georgia, with us. They have gone down the highways of the South on tortuous rides for freedom. Yes, they have gone to jail with us. Some have been dismissed from their churches, have lost the support of their bishops and fellow ministers. But they have acted in the faith that right defeated is stronger than evil triumphant. Their witness has been the spiritual salt that has preserved the true meaning of the gospel in these troubled times. They have carved a tunnel of hope through the dark mountain of disappointment. I hope the church as a whole will meet the challenge of this decisive hour. But even if the church does not come to the aid of justice, I have no despair about the future. I have no fear about the outcome of our struggle in Birmingham, even if our motives are at present misunderstood. We will reach the goal of freedom in Birmingham and all over the nation, because the goal of America is freedom. Abused and scorned though we may be, our destiny is tied up with America's destiny. Before the pilgrims landed at Plymouth, we were here. Before the pen of Jefferson etched the majestic words of the Declaration of Independence across the pages of history, we were here. For more than two centuries our forebears labored in this country without wages; they made cotton king; they built the homes of their masters while suffering gross injustice and shameful humiliation -and yet out of a bottomless vitality they continued to thrive and develop. If the inexpressible cruelties of slavery could not stop us, the opposition we now face will surely fail. We will win our freedom because the sacred heritage of our nation and the eternal will of God are embodied in our echoing demands. Before closing I feel impelled to mention one other point in your statement that has troubled me profoundly. You warmly commended the Birmingham police force for keeping "order" and "preventing violence." I doubt that you would have so warmly commended the police force if you had seen its dogs sinking their teeth into unarmed, nonviolent Negroes. I doubt that you would so quickly commend the policemen if you were to observe their ugly and inhumane treatment of Negroes here in the city jail; if you were to watch them push and curse old Negro women and young Negro girls; if you were to see them slap and kick old Negro men and young boys; if you were to observe them, as they did on two occasions, refuse to give us food because we wanted to sing our grace together. I cannot join you in your praise of the Birmingham police department.

It is true that the police have exercised a degree of discipline in handling the demonstrators. In this sense they have conducted themselves rather "nonviolently" in public. But for what purpose? To preserve the evil system of segregation. Over the past few years I have consistently preached that nonviolence demands that the means we use must be as pure as the ends we seek. I have tried to make clear that it is wrong to use immoral means to attain moral ends. But now I must affirm that it is just as wrong, or perhaps even more so, to use moral means to preserve immoral ends. Perhaps Mr. Connor and his policemen have been rather nonviolent in public, as was Chief Pritchett in Albany, Georgia, but they have used the moral means of nonviolence to maintain the immoral end of racial injustice. As T. S. Eliot has said: "The last temptation is the greatest treason: To do the right deed for the wrong reason."

I wish you had commended the Negro sit inners and demonstrators of Birmingham for their sublime courage, their willingness to suffer and their amazing discipline in the midst of great provocation. One day the South will recognize its real heroes. They will be the James Merediths, with the noble sense of purpose that enables them to face jeering and hostile mobs, and with the agonizing loneliness that characterizes the life of the pioneer. They will be old, oppressed, battered Negro women, symbolized in a seventy two year old woman in Montgomery, Alabama, who rose up with a sense of dignity and with her people decided not to ride segregated buses, and who responded with ungrammatical profundity to one who inquired about her weariness: "My feets is tired, but my soul is at rest." They will be the young high school and college students, the young ministers of the gospel and a host of their elders, courageously and nonviolently sitting in at lunch counters and willingly going to jail for conscience' sake. One day the South will know that when these disinherited children of God sat down at lunch counters, they were in reality standing up for what is best in the American dream and for the most sacred values in our Judaeo Christian heritage, thereby bringing our nation back to those great wells of democracy which were dug deep by the founding fathers in their formulation of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence.

Never before have I written so long a letter. I'm afraid it is much too long to take your precious time. I can assure you that it would have been much shorter if I had been writing from a comfortable desk, but what else can one do when he is alone in a narrow jail cell, other than write long letters, think long thoughts and pray long prayers?

If I have said anything in this letter that overstates the truth and indicates an unreasonable impatience, I beg you to forgive me. If I have said anything that understates the truth and indicates my having a patience that allows me to settle for anything less than brotherhood, I beg God to forgive me.

I hope this letter finds you strong in the faith. I also hope that circumstances will soon make it possible for me to meet each of you, not as an integrationist or a civil-rights leader but as a fellow clergyman and a Christian brother. Let us all hope that the dark clouds of racial prejudice will soon pass away and the deep fog of misunderstanding will be lifted from our fear drenched communities, and in some not too distant tomorrow the radiant stars of love and brotherhood will shine over our great nation with all their scintillating beauty.

Yours for the cause of Peace and Brotherhood,
Martin Luther King, Jr.

Quotes from Archbishop Oscar Romero

Today markes the anniversay of the death
of Archbishop Oscar Romero of San Salvador.
Romero was murdered at the altar on this day
twenty-eight years ago.
I remember it distinctly, even though I was just a teenager in high school.

And so,
I offer a this video,
which contains actual footage
and the voice of Archbishop Romero.
A few quotes from this great man of our history
follow the video.
Please take the time to reflect on these words of his.

Oscar Arnulfo Romero; Pray for us.


- - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - - -

How beautiful will be the day
when all the baptized understand
that their work, their job, is a priestly work,
that just as I celebrate Mass at this altar,
so each carpenter celebrates Mass at his workbench,
and each metalworker,
each professional,
each doctor with the scalpel,
the market woman at her stand,
is performing a priestly office!
How may cabdrivers, I know,
listen to this message there in their cabs,
you are a priest at the wheel, my friend,
if you work with honesty,
consecrating that taxi of yours to God,
bearing a message of peace and love
to the passengers who ride in your cab.
November 20, 1977

What good are beautiful highways and airports,
beautiful buildings full of spacious apartments,
if they are only put together with the blood of the poor,
who are not going to enjoy them?
July 15, 1979

A religion of Sunday Mass
but of unjust weeks does not please the Lord.
A religion of much praying but with hypocrisy
in the heart is not Christian.
A church that sets itself up only to be well off,
to have a lot of money and comfort,
but that forgets to protest injustices,
would not be the true church of our divine Redeemer.
December 4, 1977

To those who bear in their hand, or in their consciences,
the burden of bloodshed, of outrages,
of the victimized, innocent or guilty,
but still victimized in their human dignity, I say:
Be Converted!
You cannot find God on those paths of torture and outrages.
God is found on the ways of justice,
of conversion,
of truth.
August 6, 1978

Everyone who struggles for justice,
everyone who makes just claims in unjust surroundings,
is working for God's reign,
even though not a Christian.
The church does not comprise all of God's reign,
God's reign goes beyond the church's boundaries.
The church values everything
that is in tune with its struggle to set up God's reign.
A church that tries only to keep itself pure and uncontaminated
would not be a church of God's service to people.
The authentic church is one
that does not mind conversing
with prostitutes and publicans and sinners,
as Christ did
-- and with Marxists
and those of various political movements
-- in order to bring them salvation's true message.
December 2, 1978

Not just purgatory
but hell awaits those who could have done good
and did not do it.
It is the reverse of the Beatitude
that the Bible has for those who are saved, for the saints,
"who could have done wrong and did not."
Of those who are condemned
it will be said:
They could have done good and did not.
July 16, 1977

How beautiful will be the day
when a new society,
instead of selfishly hoarding and keeping,
apportions, shares, divides up,
and all rejoice because
we all feel we are children
of the same God!
January 27, 1980