McAlister: After the Confederate flag, 138 words to refresh the soul
“Sweet words are like honey, a little may refresh, but too much gluts the stomach.”
— Anne Bradstreet
Millions of words have been written and spoken about South Carolina in less than a month. Anne Bradstreet, an English poet who lived in the 17th century, no doubt would be suffering abdominal ailments by now. I feel her pain.
Only history will write the full story of how South Carolinians fared during this period. Maybe T.S. Elliot was right when he said: “Last year’s words belong to last year’s language. And next year’s words await another voice.” Other voices in a later time might be required to provide a complete narrative.
Right now we all seem to be, if nothing else, united in emotional exhaustion. Feelings — both good and bad — are like hummingbirds that dart from one flower to the next in a seemingly endless and random flurry. But hummingbirds eventually have to find a place to rest. And so must we.
In the meantime, I have gathered up 138 words, six quotations, that do not need historical interpretation. All statements but one were spoken in the days after all hell literally broke loose. They will be no more stunning 100 years from now than they were when they were spoken. Perhaps it is useful to revisit them, and find a little refreshment for the soul.
“Everyone’s plea for your soul is proof that they lived in love and their legacies live in love.”
— Alana Simmons
“You hurt me. You hurt a lot of people. But God forgive you and I forgive you.”
— Nadine Collier
Ms. Simmons, whose grandfather was killed, and Ms. Collier, whose mother was killed, looked at the murderer (can we stop using “alleged”?) on a television screen and said that. Others followed, urging him to repent and turn to Jesus. They forgave him just like they knew Jesus would. They knew their slain relatives at the moment of their deaths had the full picture that we only see dimly in this old world, a world that is mostly dismissive and derisive of the Christian faith. The voices of the doubters were silenced for a season. The Gospel lived out has a way of doing that.
“It was reciprocal grace.”
— Sen. Tom Davis
Sometimes less is more. Sen. Davis in four words explained why the Legislature voted to take down the flag. How could minds not be changed, he asked, when everyone saw the grace that the families extended to the killer?
“This is how South Carolina riots.”
— Unidentified
African-American
Another example of where less is more. Thousands of quiet people from little places did an extraordinary thing after the massacre. They cried, hugged and prayed, transforming Charleston’s Ravenel Bridge into a cathedral. One man wanted the world to know about his state. No riots. Just righteousness.
“The murderer now locked up in Charleston said he hoped his actions would start a race war. We have an opportunity to show that not only was he wrong, but just the opposite is happening.”
— Gov. Nikki Haley
History judges presidents and governors not on how many campaign promises they fulfilled, but how they reacted to crises. Ask Jimmy Carter. While the emphasizes set by the victims’ families in court is her example, history will record that Gov. Haley expertly managed the crisis and served graciously as South Carolina’s mourner-in-chief.
There is one other voice to consider, one that was silenced during the shooting: the Rev. Clementa Pinckney, who taught his flock well.
“Could we not argue that America is about freedom whether we live it out or not? Freedom, equality and the pursuit of happiness. And that is what church is all about — freedom to worship and freedom from sin, freedom to be full of what God intends us to be, and to have equality in the sight of God.”
These 138 words will suffice for the moment. We’ll worry about everything else later.
Mr. McAlister, president of a Columbia public relations and marketing company, served as chief of staff to Gov. Carroll Campbell; contact him at bob@mcalistercommunications.com.
This story was originally published July 13, 2015 at 5:00 PM.