President Lincoln, who we celebrate today, delivered his second inaugural address on March 4, 1865. Speaking to a divided nation in the midst of the bloody civil war, Lincoln famously ended his 7-minute speech by inviting his country to adopt the qualities necessary for healing:
“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 a lasting peace,
among ourselves,
and with all nations.”
In the audience that day was the great Frederick Douglass, escaped slave, abolitionist, author, orator, and often called, the "founder of the civil rights movement in America.” He had been beaten as a child, separated from his mother before he could remember, and subjected to near starvation and repeated violence until he escaped slavery.
After the speech, Lincoln received guests at the White House and Douglass was among them. Lincoln knew and admired Douglass, and he made it clear that he wanted to know Douglass’s opinion of the speech. Douglass recounted the meeting:
Recognizing me, even before I reached him, he (Lincoln) exclaimed, so that all around could hear him, "Here comes my friend Douglass." Taking me by the hand, he said, "I am glad to see you. I saw you in the crowd to-day, listening to my inaugural address; how did you like it?" I said, "Mr. Lincoln, I must not detain you with my poor opinion, when there are thousands waiting to shake hands with you." "No, no," he said, "You must stop a little, Douglass; there is no man in the country whose opinion I value more than yours. I want to know what you think of it?" I replied, "Mr. Lincoln, that was a sacred effort."
I offer those words to all of you who are doing the inner and social and political work of dignity: you too are making “a sacred effort.” Like Lincoln, you are living with the confusion and complexity and fear of a country in crisis. Like Douglass who lived under oppression and worked his whole life to end it, so many of you are working tirelessly to advance the work of justice and live in solidarity with those on the margins. Like Douglass, thousands of you are undeterred in the work of inclusion. Like Lincoln, you approach the work with a striking combination of strength and humility.
The historian Garry Wills noted that “Lincoln asked for charity, but he knew that the healing of the nation's wounds would be a complex and demanding process, and no one could be smug about it. All sides would have to question their own moral credentials.” That could describe so many of you. I saw that clearly over the last few days as my family was together on the campuses of Morehouse and Spelman colleges in Atlanta to celebrate the induction of my parents into the Martin Luther King, Jr. International Chapel's Hall of Fame.
Cardinal Wilton Gregory presided at the first-ever Catholic mass in the King Chapel. Dr. Kevin Johnson led the choir in performing new music from the groundbreaking “Hip-Hop Mass.”
Dean Lawrence Carter celebrated our parents as Americans who shared common values and common commitments with Dr. King and his family. A beautiful portrait was unveiled. It was magical.
