COMMENTARY: Saying grace and the State of the Union

c. 1997 Religion News Service (Tom Ehrich is an Episcopal priest in Winston-Salem, N.C., an author and former Wall Street Journal reporter. E-mail him at journey(at)interpath.com) UNDATED _ As President Clinton comes to his State of the Union address, scheduled for the evening of Feb. 5, I find myself remembering our mealtime prayer when I […]

c. 1997 Religion News Service

(Tom Ehrich is an Episcopal priest in Winston-Salem, N.C., an author and former Wall Street Journal reporter. E-mail him at journey(at)interpath.com)

UNDATED _ As President Clinton comes to his State of the Union address, scheduled for the evening of Feb. 5, I find myself remembering our mealtime prayer when I was a child.


My father asked God to bless our food and our lives, and then he said,”Make us ever mindful of the needs of others.”As a child, I didn’t understand the word”mindful,”but it was clear that the center of a decent life was caring for other people.

Neither did I understand which others deserved my care _ the four others at my table, my neighbors on New Jersey Street, or a larger world beyond my sight. But it was clear that thinking only of self wasn’t good enough.

Saying this prayer every evening didn’t prevent me from being a selfish child. But visions of goodness run deep. I have never been able to rest easy in”looking out for number one.” President Clinton isn’t our spiritual leader, but he is the custodian of our visions of goodness. He fought hard to get elected, as others fought hard against him. But his presidency won’t be about the spoils of victory.

In a sense, Clinton will be saying grace at our table in his State of the Union address, reminding us what truly matters in our common life as a nation. Even though his address will be carefully crafted for maximum political impact, I find myself wishing the president would turn down the calculated phrasing of his handlers and simply remind us to be”mindful of the needs of others.” For that is the genius of our nation. We are a nation of outcasts, misfits, pilgrims, political refugees and the impoverished. To remember where we began, we have only to look at the flood of Mexicans crossing our border in search of opportunity. We are a nation of hope.

That hope has been grounded in a vision of commonweal _ we work together to build town fences, to raise barns, to fight oppressors, to clean up after storms. Yes, we also are callous, given to bursts of know-nothing intolerance. Many stand at the drawbridge holding a sign,”No more allowed.” But that is never our best, just as my occasional terrorizing of my sister was never my best. To outgrow that, I needed constant reminding. I think our nation is in that same place: We need to be reminded who we are at our best.

I see two reasons for that need. First, prosperity is an uncertain ally. In our history, the prosperous have tended to become protective and mean. Their castles matter too much to them, their neighbors too little. Our current prosperity has brought us to a fragile place. A streak of meanness has appeared, and our ever-agile politicians have exploited it. It’s time for our president to remind us who we are.

Second, self-interest is a fearsome master. We talk about”enlightened self-interest”as the heart of our successful economy. But an orientation to self is not only theologically unsound, but a shabby notion on which to formulate policy. It pits us against each other _ maybe a good way to sell widgets, but a lousy way to build a society.


Clinton’s phrase-makers will work hard to achieve lofty language. But ideals don’t flow from such work. As anyone who has ever tried to lead an institution in a new direction has learned the hard way, ideals are deeply rooted. They take shape early and are resilient.

Perhaps this nation’s greatest blessing, other than fertile soil and abundant rainfall, is that our ideals are decent. They could have been ugly, as are the ideals of many nations. But the misfits and outcasts who settled this land established an ideal of self-sacrifice.

That ideal of self-sacrifice is why the institution of slavery couldn’t last here. It’s why we entered two World Wars that were only marginally about us. It’s why we are a nation of volunteers.

How does Clinton speak to this? The dinner table is an awkward place. We don’t want anyone trying to run our lives. But saying grace can work. A leader who appealed to the best in us might be surprised at how willing we are to be”mindful of the needs of others.”

MJP END EHRICH

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