A Pulpit Outside The White House In Our Time Of Moral Crisis

By Our Moral Moment|Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove and William J. Barber, II Photos: YouTube Screenshots|Wikimedia Commons The prophets of the ancient world did not have large, independent platforms from which to tell the story of their people. They were public interrupters. Moses went to Pharaoh’s palace on behalf of the enslaved Hebrew children and interrupted business as usual. Esther declared, in a different political context, “If I perish, I perish, but I am going to see the king.” The prophet Ezekiel laid on his side in a public demonstration for 430 days – longer than the Montgomery Bus Boycott in 1955-56. These moral voices took action to interrupt the official storytelling of their time because they understood the power of a pulpit in the public square. In the 22nd chapter of Jeremiah, God gives the prophet instructions about why he should go to the seat of political power that is being abused and proclaim the truth: This is what the Lord says: “Go down to the palace of the king of Judah and proclaim this message there: ‘Hear the word of the Lord to you, king of Judah, you who sit on David’s throne—you, your officials and your people who come through these gates. This is what the Lord says: Do what is just and right. Rescue from the hand of the oppressor the one who has been robbed. Do no wrong or violence to the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow, and do not shed innocent blood in this place. For if you are careful to carry out these commands, then kings who sit on David’s throne will come through the gates of this palace, riding in chariots and on horses, accompanied by their officials and their people. But if you do not obey these commands, declares the Lord, I swear by myself that this palace will become a ruin.’” For Jeremiah, the geography mattered. He needed to be by the gates, where the officials come in and out, to name the consequences of their actions and make clear their moral agency. In any government where power is abused, vulnerable people will suffer. But policy violence cannot happen without professionals who show up every day to do their job. Wars are not funded without accountants who make spreadsheets. SNAP benefits and healthcare subsidies cannot be cut without administrators who are willing to cut them. Concentration camps cannot be built without architects who design them and, in the context of the private prison industry, corporate board members who are willing to invest in the caging of neighbors who are being kidnapped from their communities for no criminal offense. In our present moral crisis, we need a pulpit by the gates of the White House to tell the truth about who we have become as a nation and remind those who come in and out of those gates that another America is possible. God did not tell Jeremiah to whisper his concerns in the safety of a sanctuary. He commanded him to march to the center of government. In this 250th anniversary year, when public funds are being used to tell a storybook version of American history that discourages protest, we have a moral obligation and a patriotic duty to remember the prophetic voices that have loved this nation by calling us to higher ground. Sojourner Truth was not hired to preach in any congregation’s pulpit, but she accepted the call to be a sojourner for the cause of abolition and criss-crossed the Northeast and Midwest, preaching in the public square to invite people who understood that slavery was wrong to stop cooperating with a system that treated some people like property. Prompted by the Spirit and working tirelessly with allies in local communities, she established a pulpit in the public square. Like the abolitionists before him, A.J. Muste left the pulpits where he was trained to preach as a Reformed pastor and joined the labor movement of the early 20th century, standing firmly for a nonviolent movement that refused to cooperate with the exploitation of working people. He worked with A. Philip Randolph, who would conceive of the idea of a March on Washington, and ultimately set up the pulpit decades later where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered his most famous sermon. We often recall that speech as “I Have A Dream,” but Dr. King titled it, “Normalcy Never Again.” It was a prophetic Word in the public square, delivered in earshot of the White House. To remember the best of American history is to remember that we have needed a pulpit in the public square to right our course in every era. Together with our colleagues at Repairers of the Breach and partners from more than a dozen other organizations, we have discerned a call to establish a pulpit outside the White House this summer. We are inviting people who have been faithful in proclaiming the truth in this moral moment to bring their message in person to the gates of the People’s House. While our tax dollars are being used to stage religious nationalist rallies and cage matches on the White House lawn, we will try to be fait

A Pulpit Outside The White House In Our Time Of Moral Crisis

By Our Moral Moment|Jonathan Wilson-Hartgrove and William J. Barber, II

Photos: YouTube Screenshots|Wikimedia Commons

The prophets of the ancient world did not have large, independent platforms from which to tell the story of their people. They were public interrupters. Moses went to Pharaoh’s palace on behalf of the enslaved Hebrew children and interrupted business as usual. Esther declared, in a different political context, “If I perish, I perish, but I am going to see the king.” The prophet Ezekiel laid on his side in a public demonstration for 430 days – longer than the Montgomery Bus Boycott in 1955-56. These moral voices took action to interrupt the official storytelling of their time because they understood the power of a pulpit in the public square.

In the 22nd chapter of Jeremiah, God gives the prophet instructions about why he should go to the seat of political power that is being abused and proclaim the truth:

This is what the Lord says: “Go down to the palace of the king of Judah and proclaim this message there: ‘Hear the word of the Lord to you, king of Judah, you who sit on David’s throne—you, your officials and your people who come through these gates. This is what the Lord says: Do what is just and right. Rescue from the hand of the oppressor the one who has been robbed. Do no wrong or violence to the foreigner, the fatherless or the widow, and do not shed innocent blood in this place. For if you are careful to carry out these commands, then kings who sit on David’s throne will come through the gates of this palace, riding in chariots and on horses, accompanied by their officials and their people. But if you do not obey these commands, declares the Lord, I swear by myself that this palace will become a ruin.’”

For Jeremiah, the geography mattered. He needed to be by the gates, where the officials come in and out, to name the consequences of their actions and make clear their moral agency. In any government where power is abused, vulnerable people will suffer. But policy violence cannot happen without professionals who show up every day to do their job. Wars are not funded without accountants who make spreadsheets. SNAP benefits and healthcare subsidies cannot be cut without administrators who are willing to cut them. Concentration camps cannot be built without architects who design them and, in the context of the private prison industry, corporate board members who are willing to invest in the caging of neighbors who are being kidnapped from their communities for no criminal offense.

In our present moral crisis, we need a pulpit by the gates of the White House to tell the truth about who we have become as a nation and remind those who come in and out of those gates that another America is possible. God did not tell Jeremiah to whisper his concerns in the safety of a sanctuary. He commanded him to march to the center of government. In this 250th anniversary year, when public funds are being used to tell a storybook version of American history that discourages protest, we have a moral obligation and a patriotic duty to remember the prophetic voices that have loved this nation by calling us to higher ground.

Sojourner Truth was not hired to preach in any congregation’s pulpit, but she accepted the call to be a sojourner for the cause of abolition and criss-crossed the Northeast and Midwest, preaching in the public square to invite people who understood that slavery was wrong to stop cooperating with a system that treated some people like property. Prompted by the Spirit and working tirelessly with allies in local communities, she established a pulpit in the public square.

Like the abolitionists before him, A.J. Muste left the pulpits where he was trained to preach as a Reformed pastor and joined the labor movement of the early 20th century, standing firmly for a nonviolent movement that refused to cooperate with the exploitation of working people. He worked with A. Philip Randolph, who would conceive of the idea of a March on Washington, and ultimately set up the pulpit decades later where Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. delivered his most famous sermon. We often recall that speech as “I Have A Dream,” but Dr. King titled it, “Normalcy Never Again.” It was a prophetic Word in the public square, delivered in earshot of the White House.

To remember the best of American history is to remember that we have needed a pulpit in the public square to right our course in every era.

Together with our colleagues at Repairers of the Breach and partners from more than a dozen other organizations, we have discerned a call to establish a pulpit outside the White House this summer. We are inviting people who have been faithful in proclaiming the truth in this moral moment to bring their message in person to the gates of the People’s House. While our tax dollars are being used to stage religious nationalist rallies and cage matches on the White House lawn, we will try to be faithful to the call to tell the truth about those who are hurting and the possibility of a better way.

If you can be in Washington, D.C. on a Monday, we invite you to join us. Wherever you are, we invite you to tune in and help us spread the word.

This movement is not about left or right, conservative or liberal. It’s about right and wrong — about the moral obligation to protect life, dignity, and democracy. Every conscience is welcome in this witness. And every voice is needed as we call America to be true to what she put on paper 250 years ago.

Our Moral Moment