Thoughts on the State of the Union
(Italics by Abraham Lincoln)
I sat at the feet of Lincoln today. In a hushed serenity I sat. Gazing up at the chiseled face of this larger than life man, a windless tranquility descended upon me, within it, an aura of some tangible, attainable ideology. It caught me off guard, appeared from nowhere, wrapped itself around me like a warm blanket. I wasn’t expecting it. And with it, a certain nostalgia relaxed my clenched fists and I released a thing I’ve stubbornly clung to for so many years.
As a child I used to sit at my grandfather’s feet. Gramps loved God and Country and especially this man, Lincoln. He loved to recite the famous speeches. In exchange for sitting through a theological discourse and a Lincoln speech or two, he would reward me with a few competitive rounds of checkers, best of three.
I had always hoped to ascend these steps, to saunter the Greek colonnade that surrounds the Lincoln memorial with Gramps beside me, but Heaven claimed him first. He was called to approach the throne of God before we had the chance to approach this throne of Lincoln. But as I sit here, this is not the nostalgia that orbits me.
It is Lincoln himself that washes through me, pours over me, like the Holy Spirit on Pentecost. I hear his voice (always and only imagined in the tone of my grandfather). It rings loud and it speaks an inherent truth, which in so many ways has been distorted, forgotten, despite the unforgettable presence of this monument.
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
All men are created equal. Created equal, yes. And viewed as equals by the Creator. Equally loved, equally cherished, equally forgiven, equally heard, equally held.
In the pursuit of becoming a great nation, a nation set up on a foundation of equality (leaving aside the hostile taking of land from indigenous people and the subsequent institutionalization of slavery), something has gone terribly amiss. Equality is disintegrating. A nation of the people, by the people, and for the people has somehow evolved into a nation of the corporations, by the corporations and for the corporations.
What Lincoln once envisioned as a flourishing tree, now bears little fruit. Its leaves, which promised justice, hope, and equality, now wither. It’s bark, toughened by the struggles of the nation, now decays and drops in heaps of stinking, rotting flesh to the ground. There are many branches to this sickly tree: failed health care, increasing unemployment, poverty, hunger, homelessness, exploitation of resources and people groups around the world for material gains, unjust wars. How does the wealthiest tree on the planet reek of such devastation?
One need only to look at the health of the roots. They have been severed. Not only severed but snipped, gashed and poisoned by politicians who put their own short-sighted, power-seeking, self-interests above that of their constituents. They forever seek just one more successful election and cater to the corporations in order to achieve it, thereby tossing aside realistic, long-term solutions for the citizens of this country.
Indeed, the love of money is the root of all evil.
Gone are the days when merited individuals represent us in government. Gone are the days when farmers, teachers, social workers, and small business owners represented us, listened to us, spoke for us, and served us in the marble-lined halls of the United States Capitol. No longer do those who are like us, represent us. Today our representatives are largely a conglomerate of corporate-selected individuals, chosen, primed and funded by those very corporations with the explicit understanding that the service will be returned once the politician is elected.
Money equals speech. There is no longer a voice for the economically challenged, no longer a bullhorn from which the average American can speak, no longer a platform on which he can stand. Equality has been lost.
It seems America is again engaged in a civil war. Just as equality and true democracy were once endangered, so they are again. This is not a war between the races, but a war between the haves and the have-nots. We are no longer embroiled in war between the North and the South, but a war between corporations and constituents, with side-line battles between the two dominating political parties as they raise their arms against each other, fighting tooth and nail, for more control and power within, rather than fighting for justice for all — this, at the expense of those outside and beneath.
Where have all the great men gone? Who will rise up against the indomitable forces and speak for us? Where is the Lincoln of our day? Has he been seduced and swallowed up by the overwhelming temptations of power that daily dangle before him? Have his sweet intentions turned sour? Has his servanthood been replaced by egotistical self-servitude?
Will this nation ever again see a leader worthy of such a monument? Will there ever be another deserving of such a memorial?
Something is inherently wrong today with American politics! Debauched politicians have turned the dazzling beauty of the democratic ideal into a raging beast!
A house divided against itself cannot stand.
Our nation is crumbling at the hands of money-infused politics. Who will pick up the pieces? Who will compromise their position of power to once again empower the people?
We are again a nation divided. Our two-party political system encourages our politicians to fight hard to gain and maintain power. Meanwhile, in every politician’s battle to maintain personal power and glory, we, the people of the United States are collateral damage, the unsuspecting civilian casualties.
To those of you who sit in the high places, seeking to represent us I say, “Come down from your great mountains! Come down into the valleys and trod with us in the shadows for a bit! See what we see! Taste what clings to our palate! Walk our daily grind! For your suave political rhetoric falls deafly upon the ears of those whom you refuse to come along side of!”
Politics requires the art of compromise out of consideration for the citizens. But those appointed to represent us seem altogether incognizant of their evident short-sightedness. They remain largely ignorant of the fact that their clamor for glory is temporary, for the larger swell of history will not look kindly upon them. Or perhaps being so absorbed in, seduced, and blinded by the momentary power and glory, they simply don’t care how history perceives them.
We, the people are the rightful masters of both Congress and the courts, not to overthrow the Constitution, but to overthrow men who pervert the Constitution.
So I ask again, who will be our Lincoln? Who will rise above the din of selfish ambition and speak for us? Who will truly represent us?
America will never be destroyed from the outside. If we falter and lose our freedoms, it will be because we destroyed ourselves.
As we, the people of the United States of America, helplessly watch liberty slip through our fingers, a great weeping can be heard rising from the gutters, somber songs of lament lifted from the alleyways. Doleful eulogies spoken on main street, reminiscent of how things once were and no longer are.
Stunned and dismayed at recent history’s dramatic downturn of the great American democratic society, some have taken to the streets with their many signs of protest, some shake their fists at the powers that be and cry out “why?” Others shrug and beg to know, “what is happening to this country!?” People are gathered at pubs and coffee shops discussing and debating how to fix the mess we’re in. And a great many simply sigh, shake their heads in defeat, sit down deflated, feeling overwhelmed and under-empowered, insignificant and shoved aside. A fog of hopelessness has descended upon the people.
But this is not the time to slouch in our easy chairs and shake our heads in dismay! This is not the time to sit in funereal silence, as if democracy is dead! We must rise from the ashes of our complacency!
It is the time to rise up!
Who among us will rise? Who will rise up and hear us?
Who will rise up and speak for us?
Who will march on the front lines in battles of debate against the principalities of this corrupted political system, at the risk of their personal power falling on the field?
Who will rise beyond partisan politics and begin politicking for the people?
Who will be our Lincoln and bring healing to this wounded nation?
Who will ascend above self-interest to protect the interests of the constituency?
Who will restore this nation back to the democracy our forefathers intended?
Who among us will rise so that the blood which flowed across those Civil War battlefields will not have been in vain?
Who will rise up and release their power, in order to empower the people?
Who will rise and fight for liberty and justice for all?
Who will rise?
A storm is gathering. From coast to coast a storm is gathering. The people of the United States of America are gathering in a great cloud! A storm is coming! It’s just on the horizon, just around the bend, just over the hill! If you look closely you can see the dust rising in the distance! If you stand still, you can hear the stampede coming — the sound of so many finally putting their foot down and together chanting, “enough is enough!”
The people have had enough! The people are beginning to wake from their complacent slumber!
Who will rise up and be our Lincoln? Who will lead us in this march? Who will restore to us the voice that brave men and scared boys so passionately fought to secure for the generations following them? Who will reinstate the equalities once awarded through the blood of fathers and sons, brothers and husbands brutally obliterated on the Civil War battlefields?
It is rather for us to be here (Gettysburg) dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
The people will prevail!
Through this long night we will prevail! The moon is descending and the sun is preparing to burst on the horizon, slicing through the shadows of the night!
Who will rise up? Who will rise up and be our Lincoln?
As I descend the steps from this memorial, there is a part of me that is glad my old Gramps didn’t live to see this day — the day when the ideals of his beloved Lincoln would be so cast aside. Better for him to go to the grave with a smile on his face and hope burning in his chest. Better for him to rest in peace, than be racked with worry over the state of the union — the home of his children and his children’s children forever after.
With malice toward none; with charity for all; with firmness in the right, as God gives us to see the right, let us strive on to finish the work we are in; to bind up the nation’s wounds; to care for him who shall have borne the battle, and for his widow, and his orphan—to do all which may achieve and cherish a just and lasting peace among ourselves, and with all nations.
I left a thing at the Lincoln Memorial today — threw it off and laid it at his feet. It was a most unexpected laying down of my cynicism. As I gazed into his eyes, read his words craftily chiseled on the walls that tower over and surround him, he handed me something better in exchange. He handed me hope. Not an irrational abstract hope, but a hope grounded in historical reality. A hope that is graspable. A hope that democracy and equality for all is possible once again.
Hear him again. Listen and hear this man Lincoln again. Let his words empower you and encourage you. Rise up my fellow Americans! Rise up!
Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth on this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.
Now we are engaged in a great civil war, testing whether that nation, or any nation so conceived and so dedicated, can long endure. We are met on a great battle-field of that war. We have come to dedicate a portion of that field, as a final resting place for those who here gave their lives that that nation might live. It is altogether fitting and proper that we should do this.
But, in a larger sense, we cannot dedicate — we can not consecrate — we can not hallow — this ground. The brave men, living and dead, who struggled here, have consecrated it, far above our poor power to add or detract. The world will little note, nor long remember what we say here, but it can never forget what they did here. It is for us the living, rather, to be dedicated here to the unfinished work which they who fought here have thus far so nobly advanced. It is rather for us to be here dedicated to the great task remaining before us — that from these honored dead we take increased devotion to that cause for which they gave the last full measure of devotion — that we here highly resolve that these dead shall not have died in vain — that this nation, under God, shall have a new birth of freedom — and that government of the people, by the people, for the people, shall not perish from the earth.
