from the series Peace House Community Journal…
By MARTI MALTBY
I recently reread James H. Cone’s The Cross and the Lynching Tree, which looks at the parallels between Jesus’ crucifixion and the lynchings that occurred during the Jim Crow era (1880-1940). Cone expressed his astonishment that no American theologian, white or black, saw the similarities between an innocent man being tortured and executed with the consent of the political and religious leaders, and the lynchings that took place in this country.
Cone’s book covers many aspects of Christianity and lynching in a brief time (166 pages), but one of the most telling is the observation that crucifixion and lynching each played the same role in their respective societies. While they both inflicted tremendous suffering on the victim, the true target was the victim’s community. Those with the power to lynch others made sure the “others” knew they had the power, knew that what happened to one of them could happen to any of them.
Lynching was a way of maintaining societal order without the bureaucracy of courts or constitutions. If those who ran things decided someone had stepped out of line and was a threat to the way things were supposed to be, they could deal with that person at their leisure, secure in the knowledge that they would not be held accountable for their actions.
The Cross and the Lynching Tree made me think again about the ambiguous role of power in society. Those without power, those at the bottom, are regularly victimized by those who have any power, no matter how little. The victimizers themselves are victims of those above them. And the people at the top can apparently abuse others with impunity. To escape their plight, those without power must acquire it themselves. But to maintain their power, they must then prevent others from taking it from them, meaning they risk becoming like those who exploited them.
That scenario assumes the worst about humanity. Power can also be used for good. Social reforms and philanthropy have transformed much of our society because people with power used it for the good of others, rather than for their own security. Often, this power came not from money, politics, or religion, but from courage, eloquence, and vision. In contrast to the worst of humanity, the best leads to sacrifice, justice, and compassion.
So what are we to do about power? History gives us many examples of the dangers of powerful people, especially those without compassion, or who believed that they had been given power for their own good, or who were so insecure they saw everyone else as a threat to their power. History also tells us of the many “good” people who didn’t hurt anyone, but who also didn’t intervene when they saw power crushing others.
Cone points out that lynchings often drew thousands of people. While only a few actually lynched the victims, many literally stood by and watched the torture and murder of the innocent.
In the end, evil doesn’t really care who commits it, as long as someone is willing to harm others. We each need to guard against our own temptations to use our power recklessly or selfishly. We must develop our own standards and ethics to ensure that our own power is used wisely and humanely.
Those at the bottom may have the advantage, since they understand the pain of victimhood. Hopefully, their wisdom will gradually infect all levels of society.
