1Though I speak with the tongues of men and of angels, and have not charity, I am become as sounding brass, or a tinkling cymbal.
2And though I have the gift of prophecy, and understand all mysteries, and all knowledge; and though I have all faith, so that I could remove mountains, and have not charity, I am nothing.
3And though I bestow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profiteth me nothing.
4Charity suffereth long, and is kind; charity envieth not; charity vaunteth not itself, is not puffed up,
5Doth not behave itself unseemly, seeketh not her own, is not easily provoked, thinketh no evil;
6Rejoiceth not in iniquity, but rejoiceth in the truth;
7Beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things.
8Charity never faileth: but whether there be prophecies, they shall fail; whether there be tongues, they shall cease; whether there be knowledge, it shall vanish away.
9For we know in part, and we prophesy in part.
10But when that which is perfect is come, then that which is in part shall be done away.
11When I was a child, I spake as a child, I understood as a child, I thought as a child: but when I became a man, I put away childish things.
12For now we see through a glass, darkly; but then face to face: now I know in part; but then shall I know even as also I am known.
13And now abideth faith, hope, charity, these three; but the greatest of these is charity.
You may well ask: "Why direct action? Why sit-ins, marches, and so forth? Isn't negotiation a better path?" You are quite right in calling for negotiation. Indeed, this is the very purpose of direct action. Nonviolent direct action seeks to create such a crisis and foster such a tension that a community which has constantly refused to negotiate is forced to confront the issue. It seeks so to dramatize the issue that it can no longer be ignored. My citing the creation of tension as part of the work of the nonviolent-resister may sound rather shocking. But I must confess that I am not afraid of the word "tension." I have earnestly opposed violent tension, but there is a type of constructive, nonviolent tension which is necessary for growth. Just as Socrates felt that it was necessary to create a tension in the mind so that individuals could rise from the bondage of myths and halftruths to the unfettered realm of creative analysis and objective appraisal, so must we see the need for nonviolent gadflies to create the kind of tension in society that will help men rise from the dark depths of prejudice and racism to the majestic heights of understanding and brotherhood.- MLK
FULL TEXT HERE: http://coursesa.matrix.msu.edu/~hst306/documents/letter.html
Originally published on my tumble blog
Walter’s friend Max announced over coffee one morning that he “wanted to have children as soon as possible.”
“Have you considered a hobby?”
“Walter I’m serious.” Max was always serious and Earnest, at least he had been since his divorce. Before his divorce Max had been a bit too cocky and even a little condescending, especially with strangers. Now he was finding meaning in everything and furthermore he was sharing all his new found insight, at the most inopportune times, like when Walter was trying to enjoy a nice cup of coffee while scanning the paper. Reading the paper had become all but worthless what with all the newsfeeds Walter collected on his phone and at work on his laptop. But he still felt that if he got to the paper first thing in the morning it superseded that river of information in his pocket, that the paper still mattered. Besides he liked reading the local obits. There were always good stories.
And now Max had screwed that up for the day.
Walter set down his paper and took a sip from his Tall Ethiopian (2 sugars). It was still bone melting-ly hot and made his tongue go numb. The coffee shop was still relatively empty at 7:15 a.m and Walter was still hoping to catch a glimpse of the new schoolteacher from down the block who always wore interesting footwear. But he had to shut Max up first so that he could concentrate.
“Tell me brother Max, what will you do with these “theoretical urchins” once your mighty seed has loosed them upon the world?”
“I will teach them about life. I will teach them all the things my father didn’t teach me.”
“Uh huh.” Max’s eyes were actually starting to mist which meant “another laborious soliloquy” was seconds from birth, in which Max would get extremely earnest and tortuously long-winded.. and Walter thought for sure that he’d caught a glimpse of the jaunty schoolmarm approaching from about a block away.
Time was of the essence.
“Okay Max, you are going to give life lessons.”
“Yes.”
“To your children.”
“Yes.”
“To balance the cosmic scales of the deficit your father left you.”
“Well, … yes.”
“Max, do you see the contradiction here? How do you teach something you haven’t learned?”
Walter’s morning was saved. Max was plunged into a dark reverie that would take him hours of silent contemplation to unravel. And Walter got to spend two and a half glorious minutes admiring the many facets of a pair of toe-less slingbacks with a severely precarious heel.
