Barack Obama yesterday decided that, after a four-day humiliation fest at the hands of Jeremiah Wright, that it was finally time to throw him under the bus. Usually, when that phrase is used, it means that a politician is unfairly jettisoning an inconvenient supporter. In this case, however, there's nothing unfair about it. Jeremiah Wright was the least supportive supporter a candidate could have!
For the most part, I've avoided the Wright story, except occasionally, because on the one hand I just didn't know enough about him or his thinking to have an informed opinion, and on the other hand, I couldn't really see what all the fuss was about. The whole episode stank of a manufactured controversy (as, indeed, it was). When Obama gave his speech in Philly last month calling for an understanding an honest conversation about race in the United States, I thought he had fairly effectively put the whole matter to rest.
And then, for some reason, Jeremiah Wright decided to insert himself back into the campaign by making a number of increasingly embarrassing appearances over the weekend. I caught a bit of his appearance on Bill Moyers on Friday, and thought he performed quite well. "Maybe he'll rehabilitate himself," I thought, "and definitively cease to be an albatros around Obama's neck." Then again, maybe not. It was really his performance at the National Press Club that was his final undoing, and Obama did the right thing distancing himself from Wright in the way he did. At this point, if Hillary Clinton secures the Democratic nomination for President, she ought to send a huge bouquet of roses to Jeremiah Wright, because it will be largely his doing.
On the other hand, many would say that it is the role of a preacher, particularly one who sees his role as a prophetic "speaking truth to power," to say controversial and inconvenient things in the presence of the powerful, and I would certainly agree. In the end, my problem with Wright was the unthoughtful and poorly informed substance of what he had to say, rather than the idea of a prophetic preacher offering, well, Jeremiads in the public square.
It's one thing to condemn a history of racism and bigotry in this country, and even to acknowledge the many and grievous sins of the United States government throughout the centuries. It's quite another, however, to make patently stupid statements such as that the U.S. government is responsible for the AIDS virus (and yes, I know that the Tuskegee Syphilis experiments ought to give anybody pause about just what can be done in this country). With all that could have been rightly said in critique of the United States, the fact that Wright (as well as, let's face it, his many detractors) chose to focus on such a transparently silly allegation boggles the mind.
In the end, Barack Obama has demonstrated far greater moral judgment and prudence than Jeremiah Wright has. And for all the good that Wright did here in Chicago throughout his long tenure at Trinity UCC, it is now time for him to step out of the limelight, and allow both his successor at Trinity and his former parishoner to do their jobs without him making it harder on them.
CODA
One last thing: On the subject of why Wright and Trinity UCC were so attractive to Obama, this passage from the New Republic sheds some light on what it was that distinguished Trinity and Wright from other Chicago Churches:
Wright earned bachelor's and master's degrees in sacred music from Howard University and initially pursued a Ph.D. at the University of Chicago Divinity School before interrupting his studies to minister full-time. His intellectualism and black militancy put him at odds with some Baptist ministers around Chicago, with whom he often sparred publicly, and he finally accepted a position at Trinity. ...
Wright remains a maverick among Chicago's vast assortment of black
preachers. He will question Scripture when he feels it forsakes common
sense; he is an ardent foe of mandatory school prayer; and he is a
staunch advocate for homosexual rights, which is almost unheard-of
among African-American ministers. Gay and lesbian couples, with hands
clasped, can be spotted in Trinity's pews each Sunday. Even if some
blacks consider Wright's church serving only the bourgeois set, his
ministry attracts a broad cross section of Chicago's black community.
Obama first noticed the church because Wright had placed a "Free
Africa" sign out front to protest continuing apartheid. The liberal,
Columbia-educated Obama was attracted to Wright's cerebral and
inclusive nature, as opposed to the more socially conservative and less
educated ministers around Chicago. Wright developed into a counselor
and mentor to Obama as Obama sought to understand the power of
Christianity in the lives of black Americans, and as he grappled with
the complex vagaries of Chicago's black political scene. "Trying to
hold a conversation with a guy like Barack, and him trying to hold a
conversation with some ministers, it's like you are dating someone and
she wants to talk to you about Rosie and what she saw on Oprah,
and that's it," Wright explained. "But here I was, able to stay with
him lockstep as we moved from topic to topic. . . . He felt comfortable
asking me questions that were postmodern, post-Enlightenment and that
college-educated and graduate school-trained people wrestle with when
it comes to the faith. We talked about race and politics. I was not
threatened by those questions." ... But more than that, Trinity's less doctrinal approach to the Bible
intrigued and attracted Obama. "Faith to him is how he sees the human
condition," Wright said. "Faith to him is not . . . litmus test,
mouth-spouting, quoting Scripture. It's what you do with your life, how
you live your life. That's far more important than beating someone over
the head with Scripture that says women shouldn't wear pants or if you
drink, you're going to hell. That's just not who Barack is."