"My God is not dead, the whole world speaks of Him and tells me of His birth. The Blacks' struggle for freedom is the relentless voice of God. Once the Black knew another kind of God and was content to sing mournful hymns and to hang his head. Once he prayed to a white God Who told him to tolerate his slavery and bow to his master in a timid and broken spirit. Now I see the wrath of the true and living God Who marched in Washington and raged in Detroit or Los Angeles. I see that God Lives in the black man's determination to work and eat and send his children to a decent school. I see God in the fire of dark eyes and in the courage of a strong mouth with full lips. I see that God Lives in slums and speeches, in the fight for open housing, in the courage and fire of the gays for their true dignity, and in the strength of brave men and women who are ready to go to jail rather than be denied their human rights. I see the living God because all mankind is demanding a meaningful life and total respect in place of slavery and hostile judgment.
"I see God's birth in the struggle to end poverty and in the protests that hope to end war. I see His birth in the hearts of men who wince with every bullet, who shudder at napalm, and who detest every bomb. I see Him born in the screams of the children who do not understand the gunfire that keeps them from playing. I see Him in the mothers who will not give their sons to war and violence, in the young women who will not watch their husbands die in vain. I see Him born in the philosophers who insist that the freedom purchased by war is not freedom at all if a child or a spouse is murdered, if a home and family are destroyed.
"I see the living God in the comedian who makes me laugh, in the young man who interviews me with trembling lips, in the joy of the World Series, in the excitement of a no-hitter, in a young pitcher's struggle to win twenty games. I see the living God in a heart transplant, in the excitement of the Preakness or the Kentucky Derby, in a child's attempt to walk, in a baby's struggle to say a meaningful word. I see the living God in a work of art that makes me gasp, in a piece of sculpture that tells me something of myself. I see the living God in the whole school of art that reaches beyond the obvious, that insists on more than photographing or rendering, that touches the secrets of existence. I see it in the colors and forms, the shades and contrasts that insist that life is delicate and refined, indescribable and tenuous, bold and exciting. I see that God Lives in an old man's refusal to die, in his determination to endure the operation that may save his life. I see it in a young man's dream, in an adolescent's turmoil. I see the living God wherever man is searching for peace and meaning, wherever life is struggling to express itself, wherever hands are reaching out to grasp other hands, where strong hearts whisper to weak ones; 'You can.' I can see God especially and most eloquently in forgiveness of those we think have injured us, and to forgive 'seventy times seven times.'
"I see that God Lives in the men who explore the sea to feed the future nations, in the scientists who struggle to regulate a world's population, in the ecologists who purify the air so men can breathe. I see it in the fight for mental health, in the experiments for better education, in the new forms of communication, in the effort to improve impoverished health care. I see that God Lives in the welfare worker who brings help to the poor amid frustration and ingratitude and red tape. I see it in the teachers in the slums, in the men and women of the Peace Corps, in the new housing, in any effort to give men and women hope and to make their lives mean something."
