This Tuesday Barak Hussein Obama will say the words, “I do solemnly swear that I will faithfully execute the office of President of the United States, and will to the best of my ability, preserve, protect, and defend the Constitution of the United States, so help me God.” Though it never mattered to me before that the presidential inauguration takes place around the time our nation commemorates the birth of Martin Luther King, Jr., it matters immensely this week. We recall how, 45 years ago this past August, as the civil rights movement was winning its struggle against legalized racial discrimination and apartheid in the United States, Martin Luther King, Jr. spoke to a massive crowd gathered at the Lincoln Memorial in Washington, DC and uttered the words, “I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.”1
It is fair to say—it begs to be said—that on Tuesday morning when Justice Roberts administers the oath of office to Barak Hussein Obama, that dream which Martin Luther King, Jr. proclaimed in 1963 and which has inspired so many over the years to dedicate their lives to civil rights struggle—that dream, at least a portion of it, will leave the realm of the future; will leave the realm of our hopes and our longings; will no longer be some idyllic state we strive to attain some day. On Tuesday we will all bear witness to that dream, at least a portion of it, becoming the reality of our collective life. It is fair to say—it begs to be said—that the people of the United States of America have judged Barak Hussein Obama, a man of mixed racial heritage who claims an African American identity, not by the color of his skin, but by the content of his character.
What an incredible moment to witness as the dream of one of the greatest civil rights leaders not only in American history but in world history—and certainly one whom Unitarian Universalists regard as a hero, a guide and a prophet—what an incredible moment to see this dream, at least a portion of it, become reality. What an incredible moment to be a United States citizen! What a potent and hopeful message we send to the world, that, in Obama’s words, we are not “irrevocably bound to a tragic past.”2
I often use the phrase “moments of justice.” The longer one is involved in civil rights struggles, the more opportunities one has to experience failure; and the more one experiences failure, the farther away that final goal of a just society seems to be. So, what prevents one from succumbing to apathy and despair, from giving up? The answer is “moments of justice.” Always along the path there are moments when we can celebrate little successes and we glimpse what a truly just society would look like; moments when we succeed in building community across lines of race and class; moments when we feel inspired to stay in the struggle, to see it through as far as we can. The election of Barak Hussein Obama to the presidency may be the greatest “moment of justice” for our nation since the 1964 Civil Rights Act and the 1954 Brown vs. Board of Education Supreme Court decision. This is a profound and awesome moment.
Of course, much that is good in our lives is imperfect. I struggle with what I am about to say. I feel Barak Obama’s selection of the Rev. Rick Warren to give the inaugural invocation has marred this profound and awesome moment. As moderate as Rev. Warren is relative to other Christian Fundamentalists and Evangelicals, his demeaning statements about gay and lesbian people, his opposition to marriage equality in California, and his staunch, unyielding opposition to full reproductive rights marks him as a conservative partisan in our nation’s culture war. His presence in the inauguration ceremony is insulting and painful to many who’ve struggled for gay and lesbian civil rights and for a woman’s right to terminate a pregnancy. I expect a United States president to be in dialogue with a minister of Rev. Warren’s stature. I want our president to be capable of hearing and honoring diverse opinions. I object to Rev. Warren’s prominent role in the inauguration because regardless of what he says, given what he has said and done he cannot possibly symbolize national unity at this time. I suppose, given what I’ve said and done—given that I occupy a space among liberal and progressive partisans in our nation’s culture war—it would be inappropriate for me to speak at the inauguration as well. (If I can dish it out, I better be able to take it!)
I recognize that Barak Obama’s decision to invite Warren is political. It’s a way of saying to social conservatives, “you have a place at the table.” But there are other ways to do that. And frankly, I would hope that this inauguration could be about more than politics! In the end, I expect it will be about more than politics. I hope and expect it will be about reclaiming the deepest, most sacred American values.
It is also my hope (from my position on the cultural left) that the thunderous outcry in reaction to Rev. Warren will move him and other anti-gay conservative ministers to reconsider their views. I hear rumors that it already has. I also hope this outcry will remind Barak Obama—and all of us—of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s hallowed words, “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere.”
This morning I am at ease with the notion that much of what is good in our lives is imperfect. I intend to listen to Rev. Warren’s invocation despite my disagreements with him. I intend—and I hope you do too—to savor the larger beauty and power of the inauguration. I urge all of you, to the extent you are able over the next few days, to pay attention to this moment, to watch Tuesday’s ceremony, to bear witness to this fulfillment of a portion of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s prophetic dream.
Much of what is good in our lives is imperfect. I would be remiss to suggest that the election of Barak Hussein Obama is somehow more than a moment of justice, that it somehow eclipses the problem of racism in the United States; that it somehow brings to an end our nation’s tragic and absurd history of racism; that it somehow marks the dawning of a new, post-racial society. It does not.
Are you post-racial? Are we post-racial? Throughout the campaign commentators kept using the term, “post-racial;” kept wondering aloud if the success of Barak Obama demonstrated that America had finally moved beyond its original sin. People spoke of Barak Obama as one who transcends race, as one who is “race free.” 3 I’m not even sure what this means. I am wary of this idea. I do not believe it is the path of wisdom to now proclaim a post-racial society.
Some basic thoughts. First, from a biological standpoint—at the level of DNA—race is a false concept. Science has substantially documented this claim. Second, nevertheless, as a result of the way white people have used racial differences to exploit people of color through the course of American colonial and United States history, race and racism became and remain very real in our social, economic, political and cultural lives. This is not something science documents. This is a matter of an honest telling of our history and a respect for the life experiences of people of color. In Barak Obama’s speech on race and racism in the United States last March 18, he vividly described the reality of race and racism in our nation. He said:
“We do need to remind ourselves that so many of the disparities that exist in the African-American community today can be directly traced to inequalities passed on from an earlier generation that suffered under the brutal legacy of slavery and Jim Crow.”4 He might have added that disparities experienced today by Native American, Hispanic, Asian and Arabic communities in the United States can be traced to a similarly brutal legacy of wars, displacement, cultural degradation, exclusionary laws, stealing of land, and many other forms of oppression.
He goes on: “Segregated schools were, and are, inferior schools; we still haven't fixed them, fifty years after Brown v. Board of Education, and the inferior education they provided, then and now, helps explain the pervasive achievement gap between today's black and white students. Legalized discrimination - where blacks were prevented, often through violence, from owning property, or loans were not granted to African-American business owners, or black homeowners could not access FHA mortgages, or blacks were excluded from unions, or the police force, or fire departments - meant that black families could not amass any meaningful wealth to bequeath to future generations. That history helps explain the wealth and income gap between black and white, and the concentrated pockets of poverty that persists in so many of today's urban and rural communities.”5 He says all of this is very real. And, while he feels many of the remarks of his former pastor, the Rev. Jeremiah Wright, distort American history, the anger underlying Wright’s remarks is understandable and justified. Later in the speech he says that white people need to acknowledge the reality of this legacy of racism and its ongoing impact not only with words but with deeds. He says “Race is an issue the nation cannot ignore right now.” I am unfamiliar with any United States president who has spoken publicly with such clarity and in such unequivocal terms on the realities of institutional racism.
These are not the words of someone, let alone a president, who believes he somehow transcends race or that our nation is entering an era of post-racialism. He says, “contrary to the claims of some of my critics, black and white, I have never been so naïve as to believe that we can get beyond our racial divisions in a single election cycle, or with a single candidacy - particularly a candidacy as imperfect as my own.” To say we have entered into a post-racial society is to say we have entered a Promised Land of racial justice. We have not. For me, again, the election of Barak Obama is a moment of justice, akin to the passage of the Civil Rights Act and Brown vs. Board of Education. It is a milestone in the wilderness. It is not the Promised Land.
But there are promises an Obama presidency brings that signal a shifting landscape in American race relations. We may not be post-racial—we may never be post-racial—but perhaps we are moving into era where the debate and the dialogue are less myopic, less polarizing, less divisive. I’m mindful that since the end of slavery there has been a tense debate within communities of color and in the nation at large over strategies to address the effects of racial injustice. On one side—what we might call the conservative side— there are those who feel hard work and personal responsibility are essential to lifting people out of poverty and overcoming racism. They say, “Inspire the people to achieve and they will find a way.” “Teach the people skills and they will begin to build wealth.” On the other side—what we might call the liberal side—there are those who feel white supremacy and institutional and structural racism virtually always trump hard work and personal responsibility. They say, “Organize to change the institutions and structures of white society so that our system is truly fair.” In my assessment, Barak Obama refuses to take sides in this debate. He is comfortable with the truth of both sides. Of course personal responsibility and hard work are critical to a person’s success. These are the hallmarks of Barak Obama’s life story. And of course we need to transform the institutions and structures of white society so that our system is truly fair. Much of Barak Obama’s work as community organizer and public servant has attempted to achieve this goal. Hard work on one side and institutional change on the other are not competing strategies for a person like Barak Obama. They are both valid and essential components of a larger vision for how societies change.
The promise is not that this debate or others will disappear. The promise is that there will be more room for more voices in efforts to achieve racial justice. The promise is that there will be more room for creative solutions to racial disparities. The promise is that it will no longer be easy to embed ourselves in static ideological camps from Marxist to Free Market when it comes to understanding race and racism. The promise, to paraphrase Obama, is not that we shall be perfect, but that we can strive for perfection. The promise is that the table will expand. The tent will expand. The welcome will expand. The promise is that we shall no longer be irrevocably bound to a tragic past.
Opportunities abound, but we will miss them if we fall under the spell of Barak Obama as post-racial icon, if we believe his presidency has already delivered us. This presidency brings a promise, but deliverance is up to us. Deliverance from systems of injustice depends on whether we—all of us, all citizens—hear anew the sacred call for freedom and equality for all people and commit ourselves anew, no matter what our race, no matter what our class, to being in the struggle in some way. Deliverance depends on whether we are willing and able to discern how to best put whatever power and authority we have to use in struggles for the civil rights of all people. Specifically for us here at the Unitarian Universalist Society: East, as we contemplate the legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr., I believe deliverance from a system of racial injustice depends on whether we, as a largely white congregation, are willing to discern the ways we can hold ourselves accountable to people of color who are organizing for racial and economic justice in our larger community. And such deliverance depends on us continuing to be part of multi-racial, multi-ethnic coalitions working for racial and economic justice—coalitions like the Greater Hartford Interfaith Coalition for Equity and Justice, like the Interfaith Fellowship for Universal Healthcare, like the CT Coalition for Environmental Justice and many, many more.
My commitment to you today, as your minister, is to keep many paths to justice among ourselves and in our larger community in front of us, and to traverse these paths with you not only as a leader but as a partner. I hope and trust you will be inspired in this moment to make your way onto one or many of these paths towards a more just society so that we do not fail to respond to the promise of this awesome and profound moment.
Let us bear witness to this moment. Let us savor this moment, imperfections and all. Let us receive the promise of this moment. And then let us make good on that promise. Amen and Blessed Be.
1 King, Jr., Martin Luther, “I Have A Dream,” delivered at the Lincoln Memorial, Washington, DC, August 28, 1963.
2 Obama, Barak Hussein, “A More Perfect Union,” delivered March 18th, 2008, Philadelphia, PA.
3 Miles, Adrienne Christina, “Is America Really Post-Racial? A Definition and Assessment of Post-racialism in the U.S,” March 14, 2008, posted on Suite101.com:
http://racism-politics.suite101.com/article.cfm/postracialism_in_america
4 Obama, Barak Hussein, “A More Perfect Union,” delivered March 18th, 2008, Philadelphia, PA.
5 Ibid.
