Thoughts on Obama in Oslo

There is little doubt that Obama's acceptance speech in Oslo represents a vast advance on the rhetoric we have heard from Washington for the past decade. As Andrew Sullivan notes in a very eloquent posting,

It's a remarkable address - Niebuhr made manifest. What strikes me about it most of all - and I do not mean this in any way as a sectarian or non-ecumenical statement - is that it was an address by a deeply serious Christian. It was not Christianist. It did not seek to take sacred text or papal diktat to insist on a public policy or to declare that the president of the United States is somehow the instrument of God or good or that America is somehow more divinely favored than any other nation. It was written and spoken in such a way to reach anyone of any faith or none. It translated a deeply Augustinian grasp of history into a secular and universal language. It was an expression of tragic hope.

Yet it is worth considering that it is precisely this Niebuhrian realism that obscures a more radical and hopeful approach. Surely during Advent, it is worth considering that to view this problem in light of the Gospel is to transcend the politics of the world with something entirely new and unique. In a brief response to Obama's remarks, Johann Cristoph Arnold insists that

It is nice that Mr. Obama invoked the memories of Mohandas K. Gandhi and Martin Luther King, Jr. He was right in saying that without their vision and moral clarity, he would never have been standing at the lectern in Oslo. But he neglected to mention that both sacrificed their lives for taking this stand. This is true leadership.

Yes, like our President said, evil does exist in the world. But he was wrong in saying that a nonviolent movement could not have halted Hitler’s armies. It is this thinking that gives nations the right to wage “just wars.” Any kind of war is wrong. There is a much better way. This is why our President and all Americans need to understand the power of nonviolence.

History has proven this. Due to the patience and perseverance of Gandhi and his many followers, the mighty British Army was halted in its tracks and had to withdraw from India. This came about at a great personal cost to Gandhi. He was beaten, thrown into jail, and went on many hunger strikes which almost killed him.

By advocating love, forgiveness and nonviolence, Dr. King also withstood the hatred and viciousness of those who believed in white supremacy. He, too, was beaten and imprisoned. He was even stabbed and did not retaliate. Through this he inspired hope and gave millions of people a vision that transformed our entire society.

As a young man, I had the privilege of marching with Dr. King in Selma, where I experienced firsthand the nonviolent legacy that King gave to our nation. In the end, both he and Gandhi were assassinated for their beliefs. The evening before King was killed, he said: “I have been to the mountaintop; I have seen the glory of the Lord and I am not afraid.”

This is not some sort of easy armchair pacifism. It is a willingness to take a different path whatever the cost and with no assurance that it will work out, simply because it is the right thing to do. It is to be in but not of the world. And it is indeed proof that we cannot serve two masters.