1 10 72 https://thurman.pitts.emory.edu/files/original/e3524a16138e0e4e7d932509a1bf7254.pdf 2f8483c1637496c088317c638922823a PDF Text Text Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu 394-814.mp3 [BELLS RINGING] Pitts Theology Library Emory University [MUSIC PLAYING] Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, oh Lord, my strength, and my Redeemer. [MUSIC PLAYING] I'd like to begin today by reading the last two pages of a novel called The Choir Invisible written by James Lane Allen, published about 1898. It is the last part of a letter. I have succeeded, perhaps reached now what men call the highest point of their worldly prosperity, made good my resolve that no human power should defeat me. All that Macbeth had not, I have. A quiet throne of my own, children, wife, troops of friends, duties, honors, ease. There have been times when with a natural misgiving, lest I had wandered too far these many summers on a sea of glory, I have prepared for myself the lament of Wolsey on his fall. Yet ill fortune has not overwhelmed me or mine. All this prosperity as a mere fruit of my toil has been less easy than for many. I may not boast with the apostle that I have fought a good fight, but I can say that I fought a hard fight. The fight will always be hard for any man who undertakes to conquer life with the few and simple weapons I have used and who will accept victory only upon such terms as I have demanded. For be my success small or great, it has been one without willful wrong to a single human being and without inner compromise or other form of self abasement. No man can look me in the eyes and say I ever wronged him for my own profit. None may charge that I have smiled on him in order to use him or called him my friend that I might make him do for me the work of a servant. Do not imagine I fail to realize that I have added my full share to the general evil of the world, in part unconsciously, in part against my conscious will. It is the knowledge of this influence of imperfection forever flowing from myself to others that has taught me charity with all the wrongs that flow from others towards me. As I have clung to myself despite the evil, so I have clung to the world despite all the evil that there is in the world. To lose faith in men, not in humanity. To see justice go down and not believe in the triumph of injustice. For every wrong that you weakly deal another or another deals you to love more and more the fairness and the beauty of what is right. And so to turn with ever increasing love from the imperfection that is in us all to the perfection that is above us all, the perfection that is God. This is one of the ideals of actual duty that you once said were to be as candles in my hand. Many a time, this candle has gone out, but as quickly as I could snatch any torch with your sacred name on my lips, it has been relighted. My candles are all beginning to burn low now. 1 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu For as we advance far on into life, one by one, our duties end. One by one, the lights go out. Not much ahead of me now must lurk the great mortal changes coming always nearer, always faster. As they approach, I look less to my candles and more towards my lighthouses. Those distant, unfailing beacons that cast their rays over the stormy sea of this life from the calm ocean of the infinite. Pitts Theology Library Emory University I know this, that if I should live to be an old man, my duties ended and my candles gone, it is these that will shine in upon me in that vacant darkness. And I have this belief that if we did but recognize them aright, these ideals at the close of life would become one with the ideals of our youth. We lost them as we left mortal youth behind. We regain them as we enter upon youth immortal. If I have kept unbroken faith with any of mine, thank you and thank God. The idea that there is a very definite difference between the ideals that are on the horizon that stand as points of referral and the immediate goal or the immediate ideal, if you will, that structures the first simple steps along the way. We have before us always goals that we can reach, goals that are the projection of what seems to us to be the working possibility of our lives. And as we achieve these goals, we discover that what seemed to us at an earlier time was a goal was merely a gate leading to a larger goal. And life seems to be this way, that we operate in a state of possible achievement with reference to what is next on our horizon. But always when we achieve it, we find that it leads to something else. I said, says Oppenheimer in one of his poems, when I get there, the fight will be over. But when I got there, I found that the fight was not over, that the fight would never be over, not even in death. That always our lives are being informed by distant goals, by ideals that, in some sense, are above the struggles of our lives, above the tensions and above the contradictions, but are always informing the struggle and resolving the contradictions. I go to prove my soul. I see my way as birds, their trackless way, I shall arrive. What time, what circuit first I ask not. But unless God send his hail, his sleet, his fireballs, I shall arrive. What time, what place, I know not. He guides me and the birds in His good time. Therefore, I shall never settle them for the immediate goal. For any goal that I can achieve really, in essence, is not worth achieving. It is the sense of deep inner tension at the very core of a man that keeps him striving. Not in anxiety, no, but keeps him truing all of the details of his life, all of the whole spectrum of his life by something that transcends his life at every point. And I think this is the way God reveals himself over and over in human life. He speaks to us in terms that we can hear. But when we respond, we find that there is so much more to the utterance than we thought when we gave our initial response. I go to prove my soul. I see my way as birds, their trackless way. He guides me and the bird in His good time. [MUSIC PLAYING] Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, oh Lord, my rock and my redeemer. 2 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu [MUSIC PLAYING] Pitts Theology Library Emory University This program was prerecorded. 3 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource We Believe (Television Series, 1958-1965) Description An account of the resource <em>We Believe</em> was a color television program that aired on WHDH-TV, Channel 5, in Boston on weekday mornings at 11:15. From 1958 to 1965, while Howard Thurman was Dean of the Chapel at Boston University, he was the host of the Friday morning show. Each message has a brief introductory section with bells and music before Thurman delivers his short meditation. Some recordings have been edited to remove the intro. In some cases, the Howard Thurman Educational Trust produced tapes with two messages on one recording.<br /><br />"These meditations are no longer than 15 minutes, but highly representative of his style, influence, and search for common ground." - <a href="http://archives.bu.edu/web/howard-thurman">the Howard Thurman and Sue Bailey Thurman Collections at Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center at Boston University.</a><br /><br /> <p style="text-align: right;"><em>We Believe</em> program listing in the TV Guide, March 29, 1958</p> <img src="http://pittsviva.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/webelieve-whdh-boston.png" style="float: right;" alt="webelieve-whdh-boston.png" /> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Descriptions by Dustin Mailman AudioWithTranscription Audio that is shown through the 3Play Media embedded interactive transcript Audio with Transcription <iframe width="100%" height="820" frameborder="0" src="/files/players/394-814.html" ></iframe> Internal Notes Notes for project team Original Title: In His Good Time (WB-19B) Time Period The decade in which the recording was produced. 1960s Location The location of the interview, speech, lecture, or sermon WHDH-TV, Boston, Massachusetts Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 394-814 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Thurman, Howard Title A name given to the resource Ideals and Goals (1964-02-14) Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a href="http://pid.emory.edu/ark:/25593/rp8k9">MSS 394</a> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource audio Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available <a href="http://pitts.emory.edu/">Pitts Theology Library, Emory University</a> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1964-02-14 Description An account of the resource In this recording within the We Believe series, Thurman draws upon the novel "The Choir Invisible" by James Lane Allen, to reflect upon God's relationship to humanity. Thurman deeply leans into the mystery that is associated with humanity's actualized potential. He notes that our arrival to our actualized potential is inevitable; however, we shall not know the time or place of this arrival. Rather than giving quick answers, Thurman encourages us to look to the horizon for the next goal, trusting that the same God who cares for the birds of the air is the same God that cares for humanity, and is moving humanity towards a shared goal. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Description by Dustin Mailman actualized potential gate goal horizon love tension youth https://thurman.pitts.emory.edu/files/original/33ed6cd120f54c272607406839df6a36.pdf a34e101111a25546f6d7bc6fc890b33d PDF Text Text Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu 394-813.mp3 Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, oh, Lord, my Strength and my Redeemer. Pitts Theology Library Emory University A friend of mine from England sent me something that I want to share. It is a poem, and it is written in the first person as if it came from the mind of Philip in the New Testament. And it is based upon an incident in the sixth chapter of Mark. When we returned and told him all we had done, I, for one, was emptied out like a husk that has scattered its seed upon hard ground. We had not had time even to eat-- always the open hand, always the blind eyes, always the deaf ears, always the wound to be healed. My thoughts were like wild birds beating the bars of the cage for empty skies. Even now, the smell of the people clung to my hair and clothes-- oil and musk and sandalwood, it hung in my hair. Their voices went on and on in my head-- monotonous wails wearing my mind away. Rock is worn by the waves to sand. I wanted to shut my mind that my thoughts close on my peace. I wanted to close the peace of my love in my heart like dew on a dark rose. But he told us to rest. We went in a small ship-- the wind and water moving in her. She lives in their sweetness of life-a bride, her sail a white wing, unmoving, moves with the tide. She lay to the wind, and we gave our hearts with a sigh to the breath of the spirit of love. But, when we came to the shore, the people were there. They had found us out-- always the open hand, always the blind eyes, always the deaf ears, always the wounds to be healed. They were there everywhere-- insects there in the sun when someone has lifted a stone. I knew they would drain him and ring him out-- ring him out to the last drop of the fountain water of life. I was sick of it all with a dry husk for a heart. But, he saw the flocks wanting shepherd and fold. Pity in him rose a clear spring for the world's thirst, and love was a pasture land. So, it went all day-- always the open hand, always the dull mind, always the slow heart, always the nameless fears, and self-pity-- self-pity and tears until the sun went up in the blaze of the day's heat. And with red wine burning through thin gold, it was lowered slowly onto the altar stone of a darkening world, where the sheep were in fold. We thought, now it is night, he will send them away. They are always late, we said, this is a desert please. Send them away, Lord, to buy food and be fed. But he, you give them to eat. The grass in that place shown exceedingly green-- I remember, because when the brain is dust, the cool greenness of grass is absurdly sweet. Then, let us go with what money we have and buy them bread. Bid them sit down on the grass and give them to eat, the Lord said. Matthew, and Mark, and Luke have written these things. They tell of the boy who brought us two little fish and some loaves of bread. The boy was one of the crowd. He went as he came. As long as a world lasts, the world will remember him, but no one will know his name. 1 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu They sat down on the grass. My heart contracted. My mind was withered up. But Christ poured out his tenderness like wine poured out into a lifted cup-- always the open hands, always the blind eyes, always the mouth to be fed. And I, for one, was emptied out like a husk that had scattered its seed upon hard ground. Pitts Theology Library Emory University But, he saw the flocks wanting shepherd and fold. Pity in him a rose and a clear spring, for the world's thirst and love was a pasture land. The Lord blessed the bread. He put it into our hands, and it multiplied-- not in his hands but in mine. Even now remembering this, my thoughts shocked like a folding wing. My mind is a blank sheet of light in the mystery of the thing. I gave and my hands were full again and again and again. Pity in him fell on my dried dust. It was summer rain, and the husk of my heart expanded and filled again-- and was large with grain. For me, the miracle was this-that a clear stream of large love-- not mine-- flowed out of my soul-- a shining wave over my fellow man. These things I have told you happened a long while since. Our cherished Lord is dead-- he was crucified. Now, as then, we go about in the crowd telling his love and how he rose from the dead. And, risen in us, he lives in the least of men. But, I think nobody understands until I touch their wounds and they know the healing of his hands. On the night of the pass, before he died, he blessed the bread and put in to our hands to increase and be multiplied to the end of time. Now, if I turned my face away from the marketplace, I should be haunted-- hearing the rustle of heat in the darkness, striving, pushing up to the light. I should hear his words falling like slow tears in the supper room when he prayed that all may be one-- the father and son, even as they are one-- falling like slow tears over the sown fields. And I should see the world like a young field of wheat growing up for the grain, watered by his tears-- always the open hands, always the blind eyes, always the slow mind, always the deaf ears, and always Christ our Lord crowned with the following thorn and ring the spears. I know now that I never see the predator's feet in the dust where the son of man trod-- that in every man forever, I meet the Son of God. It is a slow truth-- a forbearing truth-- that human need is infinite. And, if a man devotes all of his time, all of the distilled essence of his wisdom and all of the manifold complex of his resources to the meeting of human need and devotes himself exclusively to it, every hour of every day of every year for 1,000 years without eating or sleeping or resting-- at the end of the 1,000 years, human need would still be infinite. Therefore, the wise man learns that since he cannot make a quantitative impression on infinity, he can make a qualitative impression on infinity. So, he puts at the disposal of human need the best that he can give, knowing that when he does this, the great god of life pours through this opening and multiplies his energies and his gifts. Always the open hand, always a teary eye. Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, oh, Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer. 2 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource We Believe (Television Series, 1958-1965) Description An account of the resource <em>We Believe</em> was a color television program that aired on WHDH-TV, Channel 5, in Boston on weekday mornings at 11:15. From 1958 to 1965, while Howard Thurman was Dean of the Chapel at Boston University, he was the host of the Friday morning show. Each message has a brief introductory section with bells and music before Thurman delivers his short meditation. Some recordings have been edited to remove the intro. In some cases, the Howard Thurman Educational Trust produced tapes with two messages on one recording.<br /><br />"These meditations are no longer than 15 minutes, but highly representative of his style, influence, and search for common ground." - <a href="http://archives.bu.edu/web/howard-thurman">the Howard Thurman and Sue Bailey Thurman Collections at Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center at Boston University.</a><br /><br /> <p style="text-align: right;"><em>We Believe</em> program listing in the TV Guide, March 29, 1958</p> <img src="http://pittsviva.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/webelieve-whdh-boston.png" style="float: right;" alt="webelieve-whdh-boston.png" /> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Descriptions by Dustin Mailman AudioWithTranscription Audio that is shown through the 3Play Media embedded interactive transcript Audio with Transcription <iframe width="100%" height="820" frameborder="0" src="/files/players/394-813.html" ></iframe> Time Period The decade in which the recording was produced. 1960s Location The location of the interview, speech, lecture, or sermon WHDH-TV, Boston, Massachusetts Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 394-813 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Thurman, Howard Title A name given to the resource Always the Open Hand (1964-02-21) Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a href="http://pid.emory.edu/ark:/25593/rp8k9">MSS 394</a> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource audio Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available <a href="http://pitts.emory.edu/">Pitts Theology Library, Emory University</a> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1964-02-21 Description An account of the resource In this recording within the We Believe Series, Thurman reads a poem sent to him from a friend. This poem speaks from the perspective of Phillip, one of Jesus' disciples. The content of this poem wrestles with the demands of the people upon Jesus, and Jesus' willingness to pour himself out to benefit those who are in need. In the author's engagement with Jesus' life, work, death, and resurrection, we are asked to ponder the human quest of making sense of God's open, relational, and creative nature. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Description by Dustin Mailman christology communion disciples Feeding of the Five Thousand healing Incarnation Jesus kenosis Last Supper miracles Phillip poem Spirit of Love https://thurman.pitts.emory.edu/files/original/43fba1cdc87a8a7de7378b60d8b1f110.pdf e986a0ed30674284c5bf3baf163dfec5 PDF Text Text Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu 394-812.mp3 [CHURCH BELLS] Pitts Theology Library Emory University [MUSIC PLAYING] Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, oh, Lord, my strength and my Redeemer. [MUSIC PLAYING] Last summer, it was my privilege to spend five or six days at the five years meeting of Friends of Quakers. And while there, I discovered a little pamphlet-- one of the Pendle Hill pamphlets, which has to do with the writing of poetry among Quakers. I must confess that in my own thought, the Quaker poets hardly existed. I thought of Whittier, always, and the tremendous influence which his words, and his poetry, and his images had not only on the Society of Friends, but in the great creative push of the abolitionist movement. But I was overwhelmed by some of the things that I found in this pamphlet-- some of the things that I want to share with you. It is all the more impressive to me, because the poets talk a great deal about the place of silence and the place of quiet in the meeting. I don't know whether you have had the experience of ever attending a Friends meeting. But there is a different dimension present in these meetings, and particularly in the meetings that are called the un-programmed meetings. That is the meetings that do not follow any pattern or scheme, in which there is no leader. And no one takes the initiative. But the whole group comes together in the meeting house. And they sit in the silence and do what the friends call centering down. And as they do, the noise in the mind, the kind of confusion that is going on in the spirit, begins to subside. And more and more, one is pulled into a vortex of creative, pulsing quiet, like the stillness of absolute motion. Now, one of the poets describes the silent meeting. "Enter the meeting and sink down in quiet. Grow deaf to hear. Repeat the wordless litany of silence. Silence invisible and necessary as air. Our bodies dwelling before birth and after death. Think of the soundless whirling of the earth, the silent worship of trees that sway and bow and praise. Unspoken love and a simple hand class, saying what lips would disavow. Walk the still jungle of remembered sin with love alone for a guide. Close out all sound. Enter the perfect silence, where is God." And then another, Ann Ruth Shawbaker describes the meeting house. "The old meeting house, where there is no symbolism, where there is no alter, where the people simply gather. And in some of them, there is a fireplace. 1 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu And in the fireplace, there are logs burning. And as one sits and is gathered up in the creative silence, one's mind is stretched and one's spirit is, in a sense, hollowed out to make room for the movement of the mind, and the life of God, and the spirit of the worshippers. Now, this is how she describes it. "The sound of silence lies within this place. Pitts Theology Library Emory University Cool to the fevered heart as a fan in the heat of the day. And to the mind's chill uncertainties, warm as a fire in the lonely watches of the night. Before and after. Before the silence and after ride the furies. Here is the eye of calm within our storm. Here, the long, timeless tides of all men's consciousness break at our feet." And then this is another dimension of the same thing. The kind of prayer that this sort of silence inspires, but it's slightly different from the rather placid, smooth movement of the lines that describe the silence of the meeting house or the silence in the meeting, itself. "Deliver me, oh Lord, from subtle sin that creeps upon me. Here, I am aware. Like pride in humbleness or anxious care that righteous deeds I do be known to man. Forgive me if my plainness I display. All consciousness of self, let me forget. Teach lowliness to me, oh Lord. And let my inmost self be clad in Quaker gray. Defeat was sure before the race began. If for the prize of praise, the race I ran. My finest deeds are seen. If they are done through love of being thought a godly man, unbind my eyes, dear Lord. And let me see. Inverted pride is not humility." And then a Quaker economist at the University of Michigan has written some amazing sonnets. His name is Kenneth Bolding. And the sonnets are on those famous words of James Naylor, written in 1660. I think there should be time to read one of these. "My Lord, Thou art in every breath I take. And every bite and sup taste firm of Thee. With buoyant mercy, Thou enfoldest me and holdest up my foot, each step I make. Thy touch is all around me when I wake. Thy sound, I hear. And by Thy might, I see. The world is fresh with Thy divinity. And all thy creatures flourish for Thy sake. For I have looked upon a little child and seen forgiveness and have seen the day with Easton fire cleanse the foul night away. So cleanses thou this house I have defiled. And if I should be merciful, I know it is thy mercy, Lord, in overflow." And then, in these lines-"on forgetfulness and vain, I bind my finger with a thread. Playing mute remembrances instead of rings. I frayed my diary with the dates of things to hide them in my pocket, seldom read." And then I would bring all of this Quaker emphasis on poetry to a close with these lines of Whittier's. "Drop thy still dews of quietness till all our strivings cease. Take from our souls the strain and stress. And let our ordered lives confess the beauty of thy peace." [MUSIC PLAYING] Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, oh Lord, my rock and my Redeemer. 2 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu [MUSIC PLAYING] This program was prerecorded. Pitts Theology Library Emory University [MUSIC PLAYING] 3 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource We Believe (Television Series, 1958-1965) Description An account of the resource <em>We Believe</em> was a color television program that aired on WHDH-TV, Channel 5, in Boston on weekday mornings at 11:15. From 1958 to 1965, while Howard Thurman was Dean of the Chapel at Boston University, he was the host of the Friday morning show. Each message has a brief introductory section with bells and music before Thurman delivers his short meditation. Some recordings have been edited to remove the intro. In some cases, the Howard Thurman Educational Trust produced tapes with two messages on one recording.<br /><br />"These meditations are no longer than 15 minutes, but highly representative of his style, influence, and search for common ground." - <a href="http://archives.bu.edu/web/howard-thurman">the Howard Thurman and Sue Bailey Thurman Collections at Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center at Boston University.</a><br /><br /> <p style="text-align: right;"><em>We Believe</em> program listing in the TV Guide, March 29, 1958</p> <img src="http://pittsviva.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/webelieve-whdh-boston.png" style="float: right;" alt="webelieve-whdh-boston.png" /> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Descriptions by Dustin Mailman AudioWithTranscription Audio that is shown through the 3Play Media embedded interactive transcript Audio with Transcription <iframe width="100%" height="820" frameborder="0" src="/files/players/394-812.html" ></iframe> Time Period The decade in which the recording was produced. 1960s Location The location of the interview, speech, lecture, or sermon WHDH-TV, Boston, Massachusetts Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 394-812 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Thurman, Howard Title A name given to the resource Readings from Quaker Poetry (1963-11-29) Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a href="http://pid.emory.edu/ark:/25593/rp8k9">MSS 394</a> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource audio Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available <a href="http://pitts.emory.edu/">Pitts Theology Library, Emory University</a> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1963-11-29 Description An account of the resource In a message reflecting on his visit to Quaker meetings, Thurman reads from Quaker poetry about the emphasis on silence, inner reflection, meditation, and seeing God's presence in the world around us. He also reads an excerpt about practicing faith for oneself instead of as a demonstration to others. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Description by Spencer Roberts meditation quiet silence https://thurman.pitts.emory.edu/files/original/0c8834938a0d069c845061021b62f763.pdf d3e14ccb3b004caefeae9531a0acfe7d PDF Text Text Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu 394-811.mp3 [MUSIC PLAYING] Pitts Theology Library Emory University Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Thy sight, oh, lord, my strength and my redeemer. [MUSIC PLAYING] This is my final broadcast until next September. I wish to express my personal appreciation to all of you who have taken the time to write letters or postal cards, or make telephone calls expressing appreciation for the weekly broadcasts. I wish for each of you a full, and restful, and creative summer. Because tomorrow is Memorial Day, I have chosen to read several poems having to do with some aspect of this particular celebration. As the overall phrase covering what I shall read, I'm using two lines from Hermann Hagedorn's poem about the unknown soldier. And these lines are, we died, but you who live must do a harder thing than dying is. For you must think, and ghosts shall drive you on. The first thing that I'm reading is from John Drinkwater's "Abraham Lincoln", and Lincoln is speaking. I beg you not to harass yourself, ma'am. I too believe war to be wrong. It's the weakness, and the jealousy, and folly of men that make a thing so wrong possible. But we are all weak, and jealous, and foolish. That's how the world is and we cannot outstrip the world. Some of the worst of us are sullen, aggressive, but clumsy and greedy pirates. Some of us have grown out of that, but the best of us have an instinct to resist aggression if it won't listen to persuasion. You may say it's a wrong instinct. I don't know. But it's there, and it's there in millions of good men. I don't believe it's the wrong instinct I believe that the world must come to wisdom slowly. It is for us who hate aggression to persuade men always against it and hope that, little by little, they will hear us. But in the meantime, there will come moments when the aggressors will force the instinct to resistance to act. Then we must act earnestly, praying always in our courage that never again will this thing happen. And then we must turn again and again to persuasion. This appeal to force is the misdeed of an imperfect world. But we are imperfect. We must strive to purify the world, but we must not think ourselves pure, above the world. And the next that I shall read is from the Arizona poet of the desert, Badger Clark. This is about the Civil War. My father prayed as he drew a bead on the gray coats. Back in those blazing years when the house was divided. Bless his old heart. There never was truer or kinder, yet he prayed while hoping the ball from his clumsy old musket might thud to the body of some hot eyed young southerner and tumble him limp in the mud of the Vicksburg trenches. 1 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu That was my father, serving the Lord and his country, praying and shooting whole heartedly, never a doubt. But now, what about me in my own day of battle? Could I put my prayers behind a slim Springfield bullet? Hardly, except to mutter, Jesus, we part here. My country calls for my body and takes my soul also. Do you see those humans herded and driven against me? Pitts Theology Library Emory University Turn away, Jesus, for I've got to kill them. Why? Oh, well, it's the way of my fathers. And such evils bring some vast, vague good to my country. I don't know why. But today, my business is killing. And my gods must be luck and the devil till this thing is over. Leave me now, Lord. Your eye makes me slack in my duty. My father could mix his prayers with his shooting, and he was a rare, true man in his generation. Now, I'm fairly decent in mine, I reckon. Yet if I should pray like him, I'd spoil it by laughing. What is the matter? And then this by Edna St. Vincent Millay, written when she was a young woman. And as I understand from an article which I read concerning her many, many months ago, she herself is alleged to have repented the mood of this poem. Of this fact, I'm not sure, but I state it because I feel that it should be said. And the poem is called "The Conscientious Objector". I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for death. I hear him leading his horse out of the stall. I hear the clatter on the barn floor. He is in haste. He has business in Cuba, business in the Balkans. Many calls to make this morning, but I will not hold the bridle while he cinches the girth. And he may mount by himself. I will not give him a leg up. Though he flicks my shoulders with his whip, I will not tell him which way the fox ran. With his hoof on my breast, I will not tell him where the black boy hides in the swamp. I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for death. I am not on his payroll. I will not tell him the whereabouts of my friends, nor of my enemies either. Though he promise me much, I will not map him the route to any man's door. Am I a spy in the land of the living that I should deliver men to death? Brother, the past word, and the plans of our city are safe with me. Never through me shall you be overcome. I shall die, but that is all that I shall do for death. And finally, this from John Bunyan, "Mr. Valiant for Truth". After this, it was noised about that Mr. Valiant for Truth was taken with a summons, and he had this for a token that the summons was true, that his picture was broken at the fountain. And then he said, by my sword, I give to him that shall succeed me in my pilgrimage. And my courage and skill to him that can get them, my marks and scars I carry with me to be a witness for me that I have fought his battles. Who will be my rewarder? I shall die, but this is all that I shall do for death. I am not on death's payroll. [MUSIC PLAYING] Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Thy sight, oh, Lord, my rock and my redeemer. [MUSIC PLAYING] 2 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource We Believe (Television Series, 1958-1965) Description An account of the resource <em>We Believe</em> was a color television program that aired on WHDH-TV, Channel 5, in Boston on weekday mornings at 11:15. From 1958 to 1965, while Howard Thurman was Dean of the Chapel at Boston University, he was the host of the Friday morning show. Each message has a brief introductory section with bells and music before Thurman delivers his short meditation. Some recordings have been edited to remove the intro. In some cases, the Howard Thurman Educational Trust produced tapes with two messages on one recording.<br /><br />"These meditations are no longer than 15 minutes, but highly representative of his style, influence, and search for common ground." - <a href="http://archives.bu.edu/web/howard-thurman">the Howard Thurman and Sue Bailey Thurman Collections at Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center at Boston University.</a><br /><br /> <p style="text-align: right;"><em>We Believe</em> program listing in the TV Guide, March 29, 1958</p> <img src="http://pittsviva.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/webelieve-whdh-boston.png" style="float: right;" alt="webelieve-whdh-boston.png" /> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Descriptions by Dustin Mailman AudioWithTranscription Audio that is shown through the 3Play Media embedded interactive transcript Audio with Transcription <iframe width="100%" height="820" frameborder="0" src="/files/players/394-811.html" ></iframe> Original Title Title as transcribed from tape cassette Selections for Memorial Day (WB-7B), 1964 May 29 Time Period The decade in which the recording was produced. 1960s Location The location of the interview, speech, lecture, or sermon WHDH-TV, Boston, Massachusetts Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 394-811 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Thurman, Howard Title A name given to the resource Selections for Memorial Day (1964-05-29) Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a href="http://pid.emory.edu/ark:/25593/rp8k9">MSS 394</a> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource audio Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available <a href="http://pitts.emory.edu/">Pitts Theology Library, Emory University</a> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1964-05-29 Description An account of the resource In this recording within the We Believe Series, Thurman reads three poems written by various authors speaking to subjects of war, conscientious objection, aggression, and violence. Each of these poems are read as a reflection upon the Memorial Day holiday. The first poem, by John Drinkwater, deals with aggression as it is related to war. The second poem, by Badget Clark, deals with a young man's decision to fight in the Civil War. The third, and final poem, by Edna St. Vincent Millay, speaks to conscientious objection while hiding a black child from people of power. Each of these poems emphasize Thurman's commitment to an anti-war ethic, pacifism, and the religion of Jesus. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Description by Dustin Mailman Abraham Lincoln aggression America anti-violence anti-war Badger Clark citizenship civil war consciousness death Edna St. Vincent Millay evil Herman Hagedorn holidays John Drinkwater poem prayer soul war https://thurman.pitts.emory.edu/files/original/fcf44da8a6dbe0725da31d9f98f7d625.pdf d49c17fc6f670089e3babc564b0f817a PDF Text Text Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu 394-810.mp3 [MUSIC PLAYING] Pitts Theology Library Emory University Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, oh Lord, my strength and my redeemer. For as much time as I have this morning, I want to read two things which have to do with the celebration of Christmas day. The first is a clipping which comes from McCall's magazine. It appeared as the Christmas editorial in that magazine last year written by the editors. Could you spare five minutes of Christmas? Now Christmas comes, solstice in the long year, a chiming of fleet hours. The verdant wreath adorns the snowy door of winter. And the evergreen bears unaccustomed fruit. It is the day of days. For 24 blessed and embellished hours, the flood gates of affection and generosity are opened and the thoughts of men turn kind. For 24 hours, some special [? denizen ?] descends on fellow hearts. For eyes that will see, the sometimes gloomy landscape of the material world makes way for far horizons of the spirit where all things are possible. For ears that will hear, there are voices that speak with the tongue of angels. Of all the gifts of Christmas, the gift of the very day, 1,440 minutes, is at once the most precious and the most common. It is a gift bestowed on all, young and old, high and low, just and unjust, wise and foolish, ill and well. And the use we make of it may enrich us beyond the dreams of avarice or render us poorer, indeed. Could you spare five minutes of Christmas to embrace its honest meaning? Could you spare five minutes to give a soft answer, turn the other cheek, do unto others as you would be done by? Could you spare five minutes to protect the weak, defend the persecuted, comfort those who mourn, and love your neighbor as yourself? Could you spare five minutes to feed the hungry, invite the stranger, cherish the child? Could you spare five minutes to tender mercy, give without hope of receiving, and forgive those who know not what they do? Could you spare five minutes to cast out fear, choose between good and evil, and let your light shine? Could you spare five minutes from 1,440 to take the glibness out of peace on Earth, goodwill to men? So now Christmas comes, and with it, again, the age-old opportunity to begin anew, to reach at least slightly beyond , the confining boundaries of self to emerge from concerns determined by greed and prejudice, to depart the cheerless abode of cynicism and disdain, to cease the aimless drifting towards paths of Eve. Could you spare five minutes to care? Whatever disillusion and confusion beset our life, it is ineradicably written that the future belongs to the pure at heart. Five minutes, five minutes, five priceless quickly passing minutes could change the world. Heartily we wish you these five minutes and a merry Christmas. 1 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu And now this of my own-- Christmas is a season of intense and feverish activity. The activity begins days, weeks, even months before. This activity is not merely limited to those in merchandising and advertising, but it involves all who have services to sell or to give away. Pitts Theology Library Emory University We are prepared to go all out in what we call the Christmas spirit, making the extra contribution to our favorite charity, putting the extra dollar in the Christmas envelope if we go to a church, giving some money for the Christmas dinner put on by the Salvation Army, getting our old toys or old clothes so that they may be shared with the skinned and cast down. Christmas is a season of intense and feverish activity. The contagion of the season extends in other ways more personal and intimate. We are reminded of unanswered letters, for instance, and unacknowledged courtesies that have accumulated through the year. Christmas is the time to say thank you and to make the gracious gesture. Whatever it may be the prevailing quality or character of our relationships, something special must be done during the Christmas season to highlight a more favorable and generous side of our lives. Such activity takes on the characteristics of an inventory of our personal relationships. And this is good. There is a strange irony in the fact that Christmas has become identified with mass production, exploitation for profit, profit for profit, crowds, hurry, whipped-up emotions, and collective hysteria. These are followed by exhaustion, physical and spiritual weariness, more drives on goods, bargain counters, and bills, bills, bills. All of these things are far removed from the simple setting that means for millions in our world the moment of truth for the world. Now, what was the setting? Of course, according to the traditional story, there was the announcement of the angels. There must be always remaining in every man's life some place for the singing of angels, some place for that which is breathlessly beautiful, and by an inherent prerogative, throwing all the rest of life into new and creative relatedness, something that gathers up in itself all the freshness of experience, from drab and commonplace areas of living, and places, and one bright light, a penetrating beauty and meaning, then passes. The commonplace now is shot through with new glory. Old burdens become lighter. Deep and ancient wounds lose much of their old, old hurting. A crown is placed over our heads, that for the rest of our lives, we are trying to grow tall enough to wear. Despite all the coarseness of life, despite all of the harsh discords of life, life is saved by the singing of angels. May this Christmas season, then, this Christmas day be for each of you, a time when you may gather together in some moment of creative focus and meaning, something that is precious to you. And hold it, and finger , it and lay it alongside your heart, that it's pulse beat may be your pulse beat. And then some of the kindness, and the joy, and the magic that is to be found in the pure in heart as they share this will come to you. And yours will be a good day, a unique day, a wonderful day, whether you bow your knee before an altar or not. [MUSIC PLAYING] 2 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu Pitts Theology Library Emory University Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, oh Lord my strength and my redeemer. 3 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource We Believe (Television Series, 1958-1965) Description An account of the resource <em>We Believe</em> was a color television program that aired on WHDH-TV, Channel 5, in Boston on weekday mornings at 11:15. From 1958 to 1965, while Howard Thurman was Dean of the Chapel at Boston University, he was the host of the Friday morning show. Each message has a brief introductory section with bells and music before Thurman delivers his short meditation. Some recordings have been edited to remove the intro. In some cases, the Howard Thurman Educational Trust produced tapes with two messages on one recording.<br /><br />"These meditations are no longer than 15 minutes, but highly representative of his style, influence, and search for common ground." - <a href="http://archives.bu.edu/web/howard-thurman">the Howard Thurman and Sue Bailey Thurman Collections at Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center at Boston University.</a><br /><br /> <p style="text-align: right;"><em>We Believe</em> program listing in the TV Guide, March 29, 1958</p> <img src="http://pittsviva.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/webelieve-whdh-boston.png" style="float: right;" alt="webelieve-whdh-boston.png" /> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Descriptions by Dustin Mailman AudioWithTranscription Audio that is shown through the 3Play Media embedded interactive transcript Audio with Transcription <iframe width="100%" height="820" frameborder="0" src="/files/players/394-810.html" ></iframe> Internal Notes Notes for project team Edited - GL 7/29 Original Title Title as transcribed from tape cassette A Salutation to Christmas (WB-1B), 1961 Dec 22 Time Period The decade in which the recording was produced. 1960s Location The location of the interview, speech, lecture, or sermon WHDH-TV, Boston, Massachusetts Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 394-810 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Thurman, Howard Title A name given to the resource A Salutation to Christmas (1961-12-22) Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a href="http://pid.emory.edu/ark:/25593/rp8k9">MSS 394</a> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource audio Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available <a href="http://pitts.emory.edu/">Pitts Theology Library, Emory University</a> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1961-12-22 Description An account of the resource In this recording within the We Believe Series, Howard Thurman reads two reflections on the Christmas season. The first is from "McCall's Magazine," and reflects upon the implications Christmas day has in relation to the Christian life. Though Christmas day is filled with generosity and affection, Thurman asks the question if those celebrating Christmas could take five minutes to protect the weak, feed the hungry, love thy neighbor, etc. The second excerpt is written by Thurman, himself. In it, Thurman works with the tension between gratitude and critique during the Christmas season. He asks the question of how one can both show gratitude while also resisting materialism and hyper-industrialism. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Description by Dustin Mailman angels Christmas contagion creativity crown ethics gifts Golden Rule holidays Jesus ethic materialism potential Relatedness values https://thurman.pitts.emory.edu/files/original/cd2af21fd8f26c7ce1857b6c8e1e9ffe.pdf 2706ac71e40410af25f1902c9a375f8b PDF Text Text Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu 394-809.mp3 The following "We Believe" program by Dr. Howard Thurman is a repeat of a telecast made on March 15, 1963. Pitts Theology Library Emory University Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, oh, Lord, my strength and my Redeemer. I'm reading from The Inward Journey. Joy is of many kinds. Sometimes joy comes silently, opening all closed doors and making itself at home in the desolate heart. It has no forerunner, save itself. It brings its own welcome and its own salutation. Sometimes, joy is compounded of many elements-- a touch of sadness, a whimper of pain, a harsh word tenderly held until all its arrogance dies. The casting of the eye into the face that understands, the clasp of a hand that holds, then releases, a murmur of tenderness where no word is spoken, the distilled moment of remembrance of a day or a night, an hour lived beyond the sweep of the daily round. Joy is often compounded of many things. There is earned joy-- an impossible job tackled and conquered, leaving no energy for assessing the price or measuring the cost, only an all-inclusive sense of well-being in the mind-- and slowly creeping through all the crevices of the spirit. Or, it may be some dread has reared its head, gathering into itself all hope that is unassigned until it becomes the master of the house. Then, relief comes through fresh knowledge and new insight-- clearer vision. What was dread now proves groundless. And the heart takes to wings like an eagle in its flight. There is a joy that is given. There are those who have in themselves the gift of joy. It is no relation to merit or demerit. It is not a quality that have been arrested from the vicissitudes of life. Such people have not fought and won a hard battle. They have made no conquests. To them, joy is given as a precious ingredient in life. It is a part of their basic, intrinsic equipment. Wherever they go, they give birth to joy in others. They are the heavenly troubadours, earth-bound, who spread their music all around and who sing their song without words and without sounds. To be touched by them is to be blessed of God. They give even as they have been given. Their presence is a benediction and a grace. In them, we hear the music and the score. And, in their faces, we sense a glory, which is the very light of heaven. One of the most inspiring and significant teachers in my life was a Quaker, mystic, and philosopher, Rufus Jones. And, despite the fact that one associates a certain kind of somberness with the Quaker mood-- characterized at one period by certain peculiarities of dress and certain peculiarities of speech, even. Despite all of this, there is-- there was, in Rufus, buoyancy, a kind of spontaneity, a freshness, a joy which I found constantly contagious. I remember hearing him talk one day from a verse in 1 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu Exodus that I did not even know it existed. I had read Exodus several times in the past, but this particular verse had escaped me. And these are the words. Pitts Theology Library Emory University They saw God. And then, they ate and drank. And, as Rufus quoted these words, he gave this tremendous smile and a contagion of light in his face, and his eyes, and he talked about the meaning of this. That Moses, again and again, had gone up on the mountain behind the clouds. And there, he had fellowship with God-- communion with God. And it was there that he received the insights that he carried later on to the people. But, on one occasion, he carried with him the elders-- just those people who were a part of the garden variety ebb and flow of the life of the Israelites. He carried these people, plucked from the masses of the rest with him on the mountain. And, after they had seen God, as Exodus puts it, then, instead of having somber faces and coming down from the mountain and saying, don't touch me, don't associate with me. Let me get away so that I can recover from the ravages of absolute beauty or absolute holiness or absolute integrity. Instead of doing this, they ate and they drank. They picked up the common tasks-- the ordinary things that they were doing. But my guess is-- of course, I wasn't there, but my guess is that when they ate, there was something added to the taste of the food. That there was something just a little plus, because what they had seen him on the Mount of Vision had somehow insinuated itself into the commonplace life about them. And this, to me, is one of the very interesting characteristics of the dynamics of joy. It does not mean that a person has not had a heart that is broken. It does not mean that a person has not suffered, a person may not be suffering. But, it does mean that he has been able to discover that joy and sorrow or joy and pain are two sides of a single coin. I have a friend-- an old teacher-- another teacher who lives in Atlanta, Georgia. About four years ago, both of his legs were amputated, and he lives now in a wheelchair and is no longer active. But, again and again, different students and faculty persons and all of his former students come to Atlanta for one purpose only-- just to go out to his home, talk with him, to get their joy restored. Now, he has lost both legs, and was a very active man, is confined to his wheelchair, confined to his house. But he has taken this disaster-- he has taken this dimension of hazard, and he has torn it open to reveal that, at the heart of it, there is a creative power that enables him to not only to endure what he has gone through, but to find how to use this thing as an updraft. So that, because of it, he soars in regions that were not open to him before. And, from those lofty heights, he can look down on the plains. And, not only that, but from those lofty heights, he can come down on the plain and be a part of the common life. They saw God-- Moses and the elders- and after their vision, they did not go into a retreat. They did not find some solitary place in the wilderness. But, after the vision, they picked up the ordinary tasks of ordinary life. They that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength. They shall mount up on wings as eagles. They shall run and not 2 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu be weary. They shall walk-- walk, walk, walk-- and not faint. The common life illuminated by the touch of a vision. Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, oh, Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer. Pitts Theology Library Emory University The preceding weekly program by Dr. Howard Thurman was a repeated telecast from March 15, 1963. 3 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource We Believe (Television Series, 1958-1965) Description An account of the resource <em>We Believe</em> was a color television program that aired on WHDH-TV, Channel 5, in Boston on weekday mornings at 11:15. From 1958 to 1965, while Howard Thurman was Dean of the Chapel at Boston University, he was the host of the Friday morning show. Each message has a brief introductory section with bells and music before Thurman delivers his short meditation. Some recordings have been edited to remove the intro. In some cases, the Howard Thurman Educational Trust produced tapes with two messages on one recording.<br /><br />"These meditations are no longer than 15 minutes, but highly representative of his style, influence, and search for common ground." - <a href="http://archives.bu.edu/web/howard-thurman">the Howard Thurman and Sue Bailey Thurman Collections at Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center at Boston University.</a><br /><br /> <p style="text-align: right;"><em>We Believe</em> program listing in the TV Guide, March 29, 1958</p> <img src="http://pittsviva.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/webelieve-whdh-boston.png" style="float: right;" alt="webelieve-whdh-boston.png" /> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Descriptions by Dustin Mailman AudioWithTranscription Audio that is shown through the 3Play Media embedded interactive transcript Audio with Transcription <iframe width="100%" height="820" frameborder="0" src="/files/players/394-809.html" ></iframe> Original Title Title as transcribed from tape cassette Joy is of Many Kinds (63-13B; 63-4/12) Location The location of the interview, speech, lecture, or sermon WHDH-TV, Boston, Massachusetts Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 394-809 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Thurman, Howard Title A name given to the resource Joy is of Many Kinds (1963-04-12) Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a href="http://pid.emory.edu/ark:/25593/rp8k9">MSS 394</a> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource audio Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available <a href="http://pitts.emory.edu/">Pitts Theology Library, Emory University</a> Description An account of the resource In this recording, Thurman discusses the different types of joy and its nature. He also suggests where we can find joy in life, how we can give it to others, and how it can be found even in moments of suffering and pain. Thurman uses some examples to illustrate his points. In one example, Moses and elders return from the presence of God to take on regular tasks like eating with additional joy. In another example, a friend of Thurman's uses the loss of his legs to demonstrate that "there is a creative power that enables him to not only to endure what he has gone through, but to find how to use this thing as an updraft." [Note: this recording was originally broadcast on March 15, 1963 and then re-aired on April 12] Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Description by Spencer Roberts https://thurman.pitts.emory.edu/files/original/c0c9c4a484fddd5dd65590f09f1e30df.pdf 0ec55b638f1ff4394bdad2325d901490 PDF Text Text Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu 394-807.mp3 [CHURCH BELLS RINGING] Pitts Theology Library Emory University [MUSIC PLAYING] Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in they sight, oh Lord, my strength and my redeemer. [MUSIC PLAYING] As is my custom, each year on the Friday before Lincoln's birthday, I read from Stephen Benét's John Brown's Body. And I will read for as much time as I have. I begin then. Lincoln is speaking. "They come to me and talk about God's will in righteous deputations and platoons, day after day, laymen and ministers. They write me prayers from 20 million souls defining me God's will and Horace Greeley's. God's will is general this and senator that. God's will is those poor colored fellows' will. It is the will of the Chicago churches. It is this man's and his worst enemy's. But all of them are sure they know God's will. I am the only man who does not know it. And yet if it is probable that God should, and so very clearly, state his will to others on a point of my own duty, it might he thought he would reveal it to me directly. More especially, as I so earnestly desire to know his will. The will of God prevails, no doubt. Yet, in great contests, each side claims to act in strict accordance with the will of God. Both may-- one must be wrong. God could have saved this union or destroyed it without war, if he so wished. And yet this war began and, once begun, goes on though he could give victory at any time to either side. Yet I know this and this only-- while I live and breathe, I mean to save the union if I can and by whatever means my hands can find under the Constitution. If God reads the hearts of men as clearly as he must to be himself, then he can read in mine and has for 20 years the old scarred wish that the last slave should be forever free here in this country. I do not go back from that scarred wish and have not. But I put the union first-- the union first and last, before the slave. If freeing slaves will bring the union back, then I will free them. If by freeing some and leaving some enslaved, I helped my cause, I will do that. But should such freedom mean the wreckage of the union that I serve, I would not free a slave. Oh, will of God, I am a patient man. And I can wait like an old gun flint buried in the ground while the slow years pile up like moldering leaves above me, underneath the rake of time, and turn in time to the dark, fruitful mold that smells of Sangamon apples, till at last there is no sleep left there, and the steel event descends to strike the live coal out of me and light the powder that was always there. 1 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu Pitts Theology Library Emory University This is my only virtue as I see it-- ability to wait and hold my own and keep my own resolves once they are made, in spite of what the smarter people say. I can't be smart the way they're smart. I've known that since I was an ugly child. It teaches you to be an ugly child. It teaches you to lose a thing you love. It sticks your roots down into Sangamon ground and makes you grow when you don't want to grow and makes you tough enough to wait life out, wait like the fields under the rain and snow." Then this-- "I've never found a church that I could join, although I've prayed in churches in my time and listened to all sorts of ministers. Well, they were good men, most of them. And yet the thing behind the words, it's hard to find. I used to think it wasn't there at all, couldn't be there. I cannot say that now. And now I pray to you and you alone, teach me to know your will. Teach me to read your difficult purpose here, which must be plain if I had eyes to see it. Make me just. There was a man I knew near Pigeon Creek who kept a kennel full of hunting dogs-- young dogs and old, smart hounds, and silly hounds. He'd sell the young ones every now and then, smart as they were, and slick as they could run. But the one dog he'd never sell or lend was an old, halfdead, foolish looking hound you wouldn't think had sense to scratch a flea unless the flea were old and sickly too. Most days, he used to lie beside the stove or sleeping in a piece of sun outside. Folks used to plague the man about that dog, and he'd agree to everything they said. No, he ain't much on looks or much on speed. A young dog can outrun him any time, outlook him, and out eat him, and out leap him. But Mister, that dog is hell on a cool scent. And once he gets his teeth in what he's after, he don't let go until he knows it's dead. I am that old, deaf hunting dog, oh Lord. And the world's kennel holds 10,000 hounds smarter and faster with finer coats to hunt your hidden purpose up the wind and bell upon the trace you leave behind. And when they fail and lose the scent, I will keep on because I must keep on, until you utterly reveal yourself, and sink my teeth in just as soon or late. There is no more to ask of earth of fire. And water only runs between my hands. But in the air I look. In the blue air, the old dog muzzled down to the cold scent, day after day, until the tired years crackled beneath his feet like broken sticks and the last barren bush consumes with peace. I should have tried the course with younger legs. This hunting ground is stiff enough to pull the metal heart out of a dog of steel. I should have started back at Pigeon Creek from scratch, not 40 years behind the mark. But you can't change yourself. And if you could, you might fetch the wrong jackknife in the swap. It's up to you to whittle what you can with what you've got. And what I am I am, for what it's worth-- hypo and legs and all. I can't complain. I'm ready to admit you could have made a better looking dog from the same raw material, no doubt. But since you didn't, this will have to do. Therefore, I utterly lift up my hands to you and here and now beseech your aid. I have held back when others tug me on. I have gone on while others pulled me back, striving to read your will, striving to find the justice and expedience of this case, hunting an arrow down the 2 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu chilly airs until my eyes are blind with a great wind and my heart sick with running after peace. And now, I stand and tremble on the last edge of the last blue cliff, a hound beat out, tail down and belly flattened to the ground. My lungs are breathless, and my legs are whipped. Everything in me is whipped except my will. I can't go on, and yet I must go on." Pitts Theology Library Emory University [MUSIC PLAYING] Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, oh Lord, my rock and my redeemer. [MUSIC PLAYING] This program was pre-recorded. [MUSIC PLAYING] 3 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource We Believe (Television Series, 1958-1965) Description An account of the resource <em>We Believe</em> was a color television program that aired on WHDH-TV, Channel 5, in Boston on weekday mornings at 11:15. From 1958 to 1965, while Howard Thurman was Dean of the Chapel at Boston University, he was the host of the Friday morning show. Each message has a brief introductory section with bells and music before Thurman delivers his short meditation. Some recordings have been edited to remove the intro. In some cases, the Howard Thurman Educational Trust produced tapes with two messages on one recording.<br /><br />"These meditations are no longer than 15 minutes, but highly representative of his style, influence, and search for common ground." - <a href="http://archives.bu.edu/web/howard-thurman">the Howard Thurman and Sue Bailey Thurman Collections at Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center at Boston University.</a><br /><br /> <p style="text-align: right;"><em>We Believe</em> program listing in the TV Guide, March 29, 1958</p> <img src="http://pittsviva.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/webelieve-whdh-boston.png" style="float: right;" alt="webelieve-whdh-boston.png" /> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Descriptions by Dustin Mailman AudioWithTranscription Audio that is shown through the 3Play Media embedded interactive transcript Audio with Transcription <iframe width="100%" height="820" frameborder="0" src="/files/players/394-807.html" ></iframe> Original Title Title as transcribed from tape cassette Readings from Stephen Vincent Benet's John Brown's Body (64-14a; 64-2/7), 1964 Feb 7 Time Period The decade in which the recording was produced. 1960s Location The location of the interview, speech, lecture, or sermon WHDH-TV, Boston, Massachusetts Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 394-807 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Thurman, Howard Title A name given to the resource Readings from Stephen Vincent Benet's John Brown's Body (1964-02-07) Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a href="http://pid.emory.edu/ark:/25593/rp8k9">MSS 394</a> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource audio Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available <a href="http://pitts.emory.edu/">Pitts Theology Library, Emory University</a> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1964-02-07 Description An account of the resource In this recording within the We Believe Series, Howard Thurman reads an excerpt from Stephen Vincent Benet's book, "John Brown's Body." According to Thurman, he reads this text every year the Friday before Abraham Lincoln's birthday. The quotation that is read comes from the perspective of Abraham Lincoln. In it, Lincoln ponders God's will for black bodies in America, pledges his allegiance to the union, and likens himself to an old hunting dog when reflecting upon his tenacity while fighting in the Civil War. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Description by Dustin Mailman Abraham Lincoln civil war God residue God's will John Brown's Body slavery Stephen Benet https://thurman.pitts.emory.edu/files/original/a0946bbda6ea91cd869e39b7d99b50e9.pdf 6bfa08b619f7b9f85d6fb7d6206b6b5a PDF Text Text Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu 394-804.mp3 [MUSIC PLAYING] Pitts Theology Library Emory University Let the words out of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord, my Strength and my Redeemer. [MUSIC PLAYING] Because this is the month that marks the birthday anniversary of Abraham Lincoln, I want to read two or three selections from Stephen Benét's John Brown's Body. Abraham Lincoln is in the midst of his struggle for spiritual wisdom, as he seeks to find what, for him and in his language, is the will of God, with reference to the great issues by which he is surrounded and which the nation confronts. This is Abraham Lincoln speaking. I've never found a church that I could join, although I've prayed in churches in my time and listened to all sorts of ministers. Well, they were good men, most of them. And yet, the thing behind the words is hard to find. I used to think it wasn't there at all, couldn't be there. I cannot say that now. And now, I pray to you and you alone. Teach me to know your will. Teach me to read your difficult purpose here, which must be plain, if I had eyes to see it. Make me just. There was a man I knew near Pigeon Creek who kept a kennel full of hunting dogs, young dogs and old, smart hounds and silly hounds. He'd sell the young ones every now and then, smart as they were and slick as they could run. But the one dog he'd never sell or lend was an old, halfdead, foolish-looking hound you wouldn't think had sense to scratch a flea, unless the flea were old and sickly, too. Most days he used to lie beside the stove, or sleeping in a piece of sun outside. Folks used to plague the man about that dog, and he'd agreed everything they said. No, he ain't much on looks, much on speed. A young dog can outrun him any time, outlook him, and outea him, and outleap him. But mister, that dog's hell on a cold scent. And once he gets his teeth in what he's after, he don't let go until he knows he's dead. I am that old, deaf hunting dog, O Lord. And the world's kennel holds 10,000 hounds, smarter and faster with finer coats, to hunt your hidden purpose up the wind and build upon the trace you leave behind. But when they fail and lose the scent, I will keep on because I must keep on until You utterly reveal yourself and sink my teeth in justice, soon or late. There is no more to ask of earth or fire, and water only runs between my hands. But in the air, I look. Yes, in the blue air, the old dog, muzzled down to the cold scent, day after day, until the tired years crackle beneath his feet like broken sticks and the last barren bush consumes with peace. I should have tried the course with younger legs. This hunting ground is stiff enough to pull the metal heart out of a dog of steel. I should have started back at Pigeon Creek from scratch, not 40 years behind the mark. 1 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu But you can't change yourself. And if you could, you might fetch the wrong jackknife in the swamp. It's up to you to whittle what you can with what you've got. And what I am, I am, for what it's worth, [INAUDIBLE] and legs and all. I can't complain. I'm ready to admit you could have made a better looking dog from the same raw material, no doubt. But since you didn't, that'll have to do. Pitts Theology Library Emory University Therefore, I utterly lift up my hands to you, and here and now beseech your aid. I have held back when others tugged me on. I've gone on when others pulled me back, striving to read the your will, striving to find the justice and experience of this case, hunting an arrow down the chilly airs until my eyes are blind with the great wind and my heart sick with running after peace. And now, I stand and tremble on the last edge of the last blue cliff, a hound beat out, tail down, and belly flattened to the ground. My lungs are breathless and my legs are whipped. Everything in me is whipped, except my will. I can't go on, and yet, I must go on. I will say this. Two months ago, I read my proclamation, setting these men free to Seward and the rest. I told them then I was not calling on them for advice, but to hear something that I meant to do. We talked about it. Most of them approved the thing, if not the time. Then Seward said something I hadn't thought of. I approve the proclamation, but if it issued now without defeats in everybody's mouth, it may be viewed as a last shriek for help from an exhausted, beaten government. Put it aside till victory comes. Then issue it with victory. He was right. I'm not a general, but I promise this. Here at the end of every ounce of strength that I can muster, here in the dark pit of ignorance that is not quite despair, and doubt that does but must not break the mind. The pit I have inhabited so long at various times and seasons, that my soul has taken color in its very grains from the blind darkness, from the lonely cove that never hears of footstep but my own or ever will, while I am a man alive to keep my prison locked from visitors. What if I heard another footstep there? What if, some day, there is no one but God, no one but God, who could descend that stair and ring his heavy footfalls on the stone. And if God came, what would we say to him? That prison is ourselves that we have built, and being so, its loneliness is just. And being so, its loneliness endures. But if another came, what would we say? No, it must be as it always has been. We are all prisoners in that degree and will remain so. But I think I know this. God is not a jailer. What is it, hey? Yes, yes. I'm glad of that. I'm very glad. There's no mistake this time. We have the best of them. They are in retreat. This is a great day, Statham, if McClellan can only follow up to victory now. Lord, I will keep my promise and go on. Your will much still being dark to me, but in this one thing, as I see it, plain. And yet if Lee slips through our hands again, and as he well may, through all those last reports on the war, still goes on, and still there is no end, even after this Antietam. Not for years and years. I cannot read it, but I will go on. Old dog, old dog, but settled to the scent. And with fresh breath now from this breathing space, Almighty God, at best, we never seem to know you wholly. 2 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu But there is something left, a strange and new courage. We can fail and fail and fail, but deep against the failure, something wars. Something goes forward. Something lights a match. Something gets up from Sangamon County Ground, armed with a bitten and blunted ax. And after 20,000 wasted strokes, brings the tall hemlock crashing to the ground against the failure. Something wars. Pitts Theology Library Emory University This is the great word. A man may be mistaken, and this [INAUDIBLE] failure. But always, the sensitive, mature man must make a distinction between being mistaken in the thing that he undertakes and failing to achieve it. Always against the failure, even though the failure may come again and again and again, and work out what seems to be its endless rhythm against the background of our arch despair. Nevertheless, always against the failure. Something wars. Something is always coming on. There is a deeper level of vitality that is available to us. And if we do not accept the failure as final, then we are open to this upward push of something more that works against the failure. Always against the failure, something wars. And after 10,000 wasted strokes, the tall hemlock will come crashing to the ground. This is the word from this man, whose life means so much to so many for so long a time. [MUSIC PLAYING] Words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in my sight, O Lord, my Rock and my Redeemer. [MUSIC PLAYING] 3 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource We Believe (Television Series, 1958-1965) Description An account of the resource <em>We Believe</em> was a color television program that aired on WHDH-TV, Channel 5, in Boston on weekday mornings at 11:15. From 1958 to 1965, while Howard Thurman was Dean of the Chapel at Boston University, he was the host of the Friday morning show. Each message has a brief introductory section with bells and music before Thurman delivers his short meditation. Some recordings have been edited to remove the intro. In some cases, the Howard Thurman Educational Trust produced tapes with two messages on one recording.<br /><br />"These meditations are no longer than 15 minutes, but highly representative of his style, influence, and search for common ground." - <a href="http://archives.bu.edu/web/howard-thurman">the Howard Thurman and Sue Bailey Thurman Collections at Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center at Boston University.</a><br /><br /> <p style="text-align: right;"><em>We Believe</em> program listing in the TV Guide, March 29, 1958</p> <img src="http://pittsviva.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/webelieve-whdh-boston.png" style="float: right;" alt="webelieve-whdh-boston.png" /> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Descriptions by Dustin Mailman AudioWithTranscription Audio that is shown through the 3Play Media embedded interactive transcript Audio with Transcription <iframe width="100%" height="820" frameborder="0" src="/files/players/394-804.html" ></iframe> Internal Notes Notes for project team Location, Arkansas AM&N College, Pine Bluff, Arkansas, pulled from BU's chronology - GL 5/15/19 Original Title Title as transcribed from tape cassette Readings from Stephen Vincent Benet's John Brown's Body, 1960 Feb 5 Time Period The decade in which the recording was produced. 1960s Location The location of the interview, speech, lecture, or sermon WHDH-TV, Boston, Massachusetts Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 394-804 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Thurman, Howard Title A name given to the resource Readings from Stephen Vincent Benet's John Brown's Body (1960-02-05) Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a href="http://pid.emory.edu/ark:/25593/rp8k9">MSS 394</a> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource audio Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available <a href="http://pitts.emory.edu/">Pitts Theology Library, Emory University</a> Coverage The spatial or temporal topic of the resource, the spatial applicability of the resource, or the jurisdiction under which the resource is relevant GEOMETRYCOLLECTION(POINT(-10243685.651967 4061411.0319819)) Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1960-02-05 Description An account of the resource In this recording within the We Believe Series, Howard Thurman reads an excerpt from Stephen Vincent Benet's book, "John Brown's Body." According to Thurman, he reads this text every year the Friday before Abraham Lincoln's birthday. The quotation that is read comes from the perspective of Abraham Lincoln. In it, Lincoln ponders God's will for America, likens himself to an old hunting dog when reflecting upon his tenacity while fighting in the Civil War, and attempts to find spiritual grounding in the midst of unrest and war. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Description by Dustin Mailman Abraham Lincoln God's will John Brown's Body slavery Stephen Benet https://thurman.pitts.emory.edu/files/original/61a3782cb6fcb2b90b8a35b75b19770c.pdf 9c03811d209b5f71e0adee582aba47b6 PDF Text Text Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu 394-803.mp3 [BELLS RINGING] Pitts Theology Library Emory University [MUSIC PLAYING] Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in Thy sight, O Lord, my strength and my redeemer. [MUSIC PLAYING] Because in a few days we shall be observing in this country the birthday anniversary of Abraham Lincoln and because this is the centennial of the issuing of the Emancipation Proclamation, I shall be reading for as much time as I have from Stephen Benet's John Brown's Body. "I've never found a church that I could join"-- this is Abraham Lincoln speaking-- "although I've prayed in churches in my time and listened to all sorts of ministers. Well, they were good men, most of them. And yet the thing behind the words is hard to find. I used to think it wasn't there at all, couldn't be there. I cannot say that now. And now, I pray to you and you alone. Teach me to know your will. Teach me to read your difficult purpose here, which must be plain if I had eyes to see. There was a man I knew near Pigeon Creek who kept a kennel full of hunting dogs, young dogs and old, smart hounds and silly hounds. He'd sell the young ones every now and then, smart as they were and slick as they could run. But the one dog he'd never sell or lend was an old halfdead foolish-looking hound you wouldn't think had sense to scratch a flea, unless the flea were old and sickly, too. Most days, he used to lie beside the stove or sleeping in a piece of sun outside. Folks used to plague the man about that dog, and he'd agree to everything they said. No, he ain't much on looks or much on speed. A young dog can outrun him any time, out-look him and out-eat him and out-leap him. But mister, that dog's hell on a cold scent. And once he gets his teeth in what he's after, he don't let go until he knows he's dead. I am that old deaf hunting dog, O Lord. And the world's kennel holds 10,000 hounds smarter and faster and with finer coats to hunt Your hidden purpose up the wind and bell upon the trace You leave behind. But even when they fail and lose the scent, I will keep on, because I must keep on until you utterly reveal Yourself and sink my teeth in justice soon or late. There is no more to ask of earth or fire. And water only runs between my hands. But in the air, I look, in the blue air, the old dog muzzle down to the cold scent day after day until the tired years crackle beneath his feet like broken sticks and the last barren bush consumes with peace. 1 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu I should have tried the course with younger legs. This hunting ground is stiff enough to pull the metal heart out of a dog of steel. I should have started back at Pigeon Creek from scratch, not 40 years behind the mark. But you can't change yourself. And if you could, you might fetch the wrong jackknife in the swap. Pitts Theology Library Emory University It's up to you to whittle what you can with what you've got. And what I am, I am, for what it's worth, hippo and legs and all. I can't complain. I'm ready to admit You could have made a betterlooking dog, a better-looking dog from the same raw material, no doubt. But since You didn't, this will have to do. Therefore, I utterly lift up my hands to You and here and now beseech Your aid. I have held back when others tugged me on. I have gone on when others pulled me back, striving to read Your will, striving to find the justice and expedience of this case, hunting an arrow down the chilly airs until my eyes are blind with the great wind and my heart sick with running after peace. And now, I stand and tremble on the last edge of the last blue cliff, a hound beat out, tail down and belly flattened to the ground. My lungs are breathless, and my legs are whipped. Everything in me is whipped, except my will. I can't go on. And yet I must go on. I will say this. Two months ago, I read my proclamation setting these men free to Seward and the rest. I told them then I was not calling on them for advice, but to hear something that I meant to do. We talked about it. Most of them approved the thing, if not the time. Then Seward said something I hadn't thought of. I approved the proclamation. But if issued now with our defeats in everybody's mouth, it may be viewed as a last shriek for help from an exhausted, beaten government. Put it aside until a victory comes. Then, issue it with victory. He was right. I'm not a general, but I promise this. Here, at the end of every ounce of strength that I can muster, here, in the dark pit of ignorance that is not quite despair and doubt that does but must not break the mind, the pit I have inhabited so long at various times and seasons that my soul has taken color in its very grains from the blind darkness from the lonely cave that never hears a footstep but my own or ever will while I'm a man alive to keep my prison locked from visitors, what if I heard another footstep there? What if someday, there is no one but God, no one but God who could descend that stair and ring His heavy footfalls on the stone? And if He came, what would we say to Him? God is not a jailer. And I make a promise now to you and to myself. If this last battle is a victory and they can drive the rebel army back from Maryland, back over the Potomac, my proclamation shall go out at last to set those other prisoners and slaves from this next year then and forever free. So much for my will. Show me what is yours. 2 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu That must be news, those footsteps in the hall, good news, or else they wouldn't come so fast. What is it, hey? Yes, yes, I'm glad of that. I'm very glad. There's no mistake this time? We have the best of them? They're in retreat? Ah. This is a great day, Stanton. Pitts Theology Library Emory University If McClellan can only come up with a victory now, Lord, I will keep my promise and go on, Your will and much still being dark to me, but in this one thing, as I see it, plain. And yet if Lee slips from my hands again, as he well may from all these last reports, and the war still goes on and still no end, not for years, I cannot read it. But I will go on-- old dog, old dog-- but settle to the scent. And with fresh breath now from this breathing space, almighty God, at best, we never seem to know You wholly. But there's something left, a strange last courage. We can fail and fail and fail. But deep against the failure, something wars. Something goes forward. Something lights a match. Something gets up from Sangamon County ground, armed with a blunted and bitten axe, and, after 20,000 wasted strokes, brings the tall hemlock crashing to the ground. I can't go on, and yet I must go on." [MUSIC PLAYING] 3 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource We Believe (Television Series, 1958-1965) Description An account of the resource <em>We Believe</em> was a color television program that aired on WHDH-TV, Channel 5, in Boston on weekday mornings at 11:15. From 1958 to 1965, while Howard Thurman was Dean of the Chapel at Boston University, he was the host of the Friday morning show. Each message has a brief introductory section with bells and music before Thurman delivers his short meditation. Some recordings have been edited to remove the intro. In some cases, the Howard Thurman Educational Trust produced tapes with two messages on one recording.<br /><br />"These meditations are no longer than 15 minutes, but highly representative of his style, influence, and search for common ground." - <a href="http://archives.bu.edu/web/howard-thurman">the Howard Thurman and Sue Bailey Thurman Collections at Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center at Boston University.</a><br /><br /> <p style="text-align: right;"><em>We Believe</em> program listing in the TV Guide, March 29, 1958</p> <img src="http://pittsviva.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/webelieve-whdh-boston.png" style="float: right;" alt="webelieve-whdh-boston.png" /> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Descriptions by Dustin Mailman AudioWithTranscription Audio that is shown through the 3Play Media embedded interactive transcript Audio with Transcription <iframe width="100%" height="820" frameborder="0" src="/files/players/394-803.html" ></iframe> Original Title Title as transcribed from tape cassette Readings from Stephen Vincent Benet's John Brown's Body (60-6B; 63-2/8), 1963 Feb 8 Time Period The decade in which the recording was produced. 1960s Location The location of the interview, speech, lecture, or sermon WHDH-TV, Boston, Massachusetts Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 394-803 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Thurman, Howard Title A name given to the resource Readings from Stephen Vincent Benet's John Brown's Body (1963-02-08) Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a href="http://pid.emory.edu/ark:/25593/rp8k9">MSS 394</a> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource audio Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available <a href="http://pitts.emory.edu/">Pitts Theology Library, Emory University</a> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1963-02-08 Description An account of the resource In this recording within the We Believe Series, Howard Thurman reads an excerpt from Stephen Vincent Benet's book, "John Brown's Body." According to Thurman, he reads this text every year the Friday before Abraham Lincoln's birthday. The quotation that is read comes from the perspective of Abraham Lincoln. In it, Lincoln ponders God's will for America, likens himself to an old hunting dog when reflecting upon his tenacity while fighting in the Civil War, and attempts to find spiritual grounding in the midst of isolation and civil unrest. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Description by Dustin Mailman Abraham Lincoln civil war discernment God's will Isolation John Brown's Body slavery Stephen Benet https://thurman.pitts.emory.edu/files/original/a4fc9bf36c38cad205c6fb52d0ae8d2d.pdf bb470fa07bb0c8438812455997679ec9 PDF Text Text Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu 394-802.mp3 At Victor they are skillfully blended to give-- Pitts Theology Library Emory University [BELLS RINGING] Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, oh, Lord, my strength and my redeemer. [MUSIC PLAYING] Because next week is the birthday anniversary of Abraham Lincoln, I am going to do, as I did last year, read some of the sections from "John Brown's Body" by Stephen Benet. The section which I shall be reading has to do with the religious insight and religious experience and sense of religious commitment of Abraham Lincoln as he sought in the midst of the fearful and fateful experiences by which he was surrounded to find a clue that would give him a sense of being a living instrument in the hands of the will of God. What is God's will, he asks. They come to me and talk about God's will in righteous deputation and platoons day after day, laymen and ministers. They write me prayers from 20 million souls, defining me God's will and Horace Greeley's. God's will is general this and senator that. God's will is those poor colored fellows' will. It is the will of the Chicago churches. It is this man's and his worst enemies. But all of them are sure they know God's will. I am the only man who does not know it. And yet, if it is probable that God should and so very clearly state his will to others on a point of my own duty, it might he thought he would reveal it to me directly, more especially, as I so earnestly desire to know his will. The will of God prevails, no doubt, no doubt. Yet in great contests, each side claims to act in strict accordance with the will of God. Both may, one must be wrong. God could have saved this union or destroyed it without war if he so wished, and yet this war began and once begun goes on, though he could give victory at any time to either side. Yet I know this and this only. While I live and breathe, I mean to save the union if I can and by whatever means my hands can find under the Constitution. If God reads the hearts of men as clearly as he must to be himself, then he can read in mine, and has for 20 years, the old scarred wish that the last slave should be forever free here in this country. I do not go back from that scarred wish and have not. But I put the union first and last before the slave. If freeing slaves will bring the union back, then I will free them. If by freeing some and leaving some enslaved I help my cause, I will do that. But should such a freedom mean the wreckage of the union that I serve, I would not free a slave. Oh, will of God, I am a patient man. And I can wait like an old gun flint buried in the ground while the slow years pile up like moldering leaves above me underneath the rake of time and turn in time to the dark fruitful mold that smells of Sangamon apples till at last there is no sleep left 1 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu there, and the steel event descends to strike the live coal out of me and light the powder that was always there. That is my only virtue, as I see it, ability to wait and hold my own and keep my own resolves, once they are made, in spite of what the smarter people say. Pitts Theology Library Emory University I can't be smart the way that they are smart. I've known that since I was an ugly child. It teaches you to be an ugly child. It teaches you to lose a thing you love. It sticks your roots down into Sangamon ground and makes you grow when you don't want to grow and makes you tough enough to wait life out, wait like the fields under the rain and snow. Therefore, at last, I lift my hands to you who and are and must be, if our world is anything but a lost ironclad shipped with a crew of fools and mutineers to drift between the cold forts of the stars. I've never found a church that I could join, although I prayed in churches in my time and listened to all sorts of ministers. Well, they were good men, most of them. And yet the thing behind the words, it's hard to find. I used to think it wasn't there at all, couldn't be there. I cannot say that now. And now I pray to you and you alone. Teach me to know your will. Teach me to read your difficult purpose here, which must be plain if I had eyes to see. Make me just. I should have tried this course with younger legs. This hunting ground is stiff enough to pull the metal heart out of a dog of steel. I should have started back at Pigeon Creek from scratch, not 40 years behind the mark. But you can't change yourself. And if you could, you might fetch the wrong jackknife in the swamp. It's up to you to whittle what you can with what you've got. And what I am, I am, for what it's worth, hip and legs and all. I can't complain. I'm ready to admit you could have made a better looking dog from the same raw material, no doubt. But since you didn't, this will have to do. Therefore, I utterly lift up my hands to you and here and now I beseech your aid. I have held back when others tugged me on. I have gone on when others pulled me back, striving to read your will, striving to find the justice and experience of this case, hunting an arrow down the chilly airs until my eyes are blind with the great wind and my heart sick with running after peace. And now I stand and tremble on the last edge of the last blue cliff, a hound beat out, tail down, and belly flattened to the ground. My lungs are breathless. And my legs are whipped. Everything in me is whipped except my will. I can't go on, and yet I must go on. We can fail and fail, but deep against the failure, something wars. Something goes forward. Something lights a match. Something gets up from the Sangamon County ground armed with a bitten and blunted ax and, after 20,000 wasted strokes, brings the tall hemlock crashing to the ground. And now, let me pull just one other line out. Everything in me is whipped except my will. I can't go on, and yet I must go on. In one way or another, every man has stood at that same spot with reference to the contradictions and the problems and the paradoxes of his own life. May we say also with him, I can't go on, and yet I must go on? [MUSIC PLAYING] 2 �Pitts Theology Library The Howard Thurman Digital Archive Transcription thurman.pitts.emory.edu Let the words of my mouth and the meditation of my heart be acceptable in thy sight, oh, Lord, my rock and my redeemer. Pitts Theology Library Emory University [MUSIC PLAYING] 3 � Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Title A name given to the resource We Believe (Television Series, 1958-1965) Description An account of the resource <em>We Believe</em> was a color television program that aired on WHDH-TV, Channel 5, in Boston on weekday mornings at 11:15. From 1958 to 1965, while Howard Thurman was Dean of the Chapel at Boston University, he was the host of the Friday morning show. Each message has a brief introductory section with bells and music before Thurman delivers his short meditation. Some recordings have been edited to remove the intro. In some cases, the Howard Thurman Educational Trust produced tapes with two messages on one recording.<br /><br />"These meditations are no longer than 15 minutes, but highly representative of his style, influence, and search for common ground." - <a href="http://archives.bu.edu/web/howard-thurman">the Howard Thurman and Sue Bailey Thurman Collections at Howard Gotlieb Archival Research Center at Boston University.</a><br /><br /> <p style="text-align: right;"><em>We Believe</em> program listing in the TV Guide, March 29, 1958</p> <img src="http://pittsviva.org/blog/wp-content/uploads/2020/03/webelieve-whdh-boston.png" style="float: right;" alt="webelieve-whdh-boston.png" /> Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Descriptions by Dustin Mailman AudioWithTranscription Audio that is shown through the 3Play Media embedded interactive transcript Audio with Transcription <iframe width="100%" height="820" frameborder="0" src="/files/players/394-802.html" ></iframe> Original Title Title as transcribed from tape cassette Readings from Stephen Vincent Benet's John Brown's Body, 1962 Feb 9 Time Period The decade in which the recording was produced. 1960s Location The location of the interview, speech, lecture, or sermon WHDH-TV, Boston, Massachusetts Dublin Core The Dublin Core metadata element set is common to all Omeka records, including items, files, and collections. For more information see, http://dublincore.org/documents/dces/. Identifier An unambiguous reference to the resource within a given context 394-802 Creator An entity primarily responsible for making the resource Thurman, Howard Title A name given to the resource Readings from Stephen Vincent Benet's John Brown's Body (1962-02-09) Source A related resource from which the described resource is derived <a href="http://pid.emory.edu/ark:/25593/rp8k9">MSS 394</a> Format The file format, physical medium, or dimensions of the resource audio Publisher An entity responsible for making the resource available <a href="http://pitts.emory.edu/">Pitts Theology Library, Emory University</a> Date A point or period of time associated with an event in the lifecycle of the resource 1962-02-09 Description An account of the resource In this recording within the We Believe Series, Howard Thurman reads an excerpt from Stephen Vincent Benet's book, "John Brown's Body." According to Thurman, he reads this text every year the Friday before Abraham Lincoln's birthday. The quotation that is read comes from the perspective of Abraham Lincoln. In it, Lincoln ponders God's will for black bodies in America, pledges his allegiance to the union, and likens himself to an old hunting dog when reflecting upon his tenacity while fighting in the Civil War. Contributor An entity responsible for making contributions to the resource Description by Dustin Mailman Abraham Lincoln civil war God residue God's will John Brown's Body slavery Stephen Benet