Aqui está a transcrição oficial das palavras do presidente Barack Obama para o senador Clementa Pinckney, entregue no TD Arena em Charleston na tarde de 26 de junho de 2015:
DISCURSO DO PRESIDENTE EM ELOGIO AO reverendo honorável Clementa Pinckney
College of Charleston, Carolina do Sul
14:49 EDT
O PRESIDENTE: Dando todo o louvor e honra a Deus. (Aplausos).
A Bíblia nos exorta à esperança. Para perseverar, e ter fé nas coisas que se não vêem.
"Eles ainda estavam vivendo pela fé quando eles morreram", a Escritura nos diz. "Eles não receberam as coisas prometidas; eles apenas as viram e as observaram à distância, admitindo que eram estrangeiros e peregrinos na Terra". Estamos aqui hoje para lembrar um homem de Deus que viveu pela fé. Um homem que acreditava em coisas que não se vêem. Um homem que acreditava que havia dias melhores no futuro. Um homem de serviço que perseverava, sabendo muito bem que ele não receberia todas aquelas coisas que a ele foram prometidas, porque ele acreditava que seus esforços irima entregar uma vida melhor para aqueles que viriam depois. Para Jennifer, sua amada esposa; Eliana e Malana, suas belas filhas maravilhosas; à família Mãe Emanuel e ao povo de Charleston, o povo da Carolina do Sul.
Eu não pude ter a sorte de conhecer o Reverendo Pinckney bem. Mas eu tive o prazer de conhecê-lo e conhecê-lo aqui na Carolina do Sul, há um tempo atrás quando nós dois estávamos um pouco mais jovens. (Risos.) Quando eu não tinha cabelos grisalhos como vocês podem ver. (Risos.) A primeira coisa que notei foi a sua graça, seu sorriso, seu barítono reconfortante, seu senso de humor - todas as qualidades que o ajudaram a vestir tão facilmente um pesado fardo de expectativas.
Um de meus amigos comentou esta semana que, quando Clementa Pinckney entrava numa sala, era como se o futuro chegasse; que, mesmo a partir de uma idade jovem, a gente sabia que ele era especial. Ungido. Ele era da descendência de uma longa família de fiéis - uma família de pregadores que espalharam a palavra de Deus, uma família de protestantes que semeou a mudança para expandir os direitos de voto e desagregar o Sul. Clem ouviu sua instrução, e ele não abandonou seu ensino.
Ele estava no púlpito aos 13, pastor aos 18 anos, funcionário público aos 23. Ele não exibiu qualquer arrogância da juventude, nem a insegurança da juventude; em vez disso, ele deu um exemplo digno de sua posição, sábio além de seus anos, em seu discurso, em sua conduta, no seu amor, fé e pureza.
Como senador, ele representou uma faixa extensa do Lowcountry, um lugar que tem sido um dos mais negligenciados na América. Um lugar ainda assolado pela pobreza e escolas inadequadas; um lugar onde as crianças podem ainda passar fome e ficar doentes sem tratamento. Um lugar que precisava de alguém como Clem. (Aplausos).
Sua posição no partido minoritário significava que as chances de ganhar mais recursos para seus eleitores eram muito pequenas. Seus apelos para uma maior equidade eram demasiadas vezes ignorados, os votos expressos foram, às vezes, somente os dele. Mas ele nunca desistiu. Ele se manteve fiel às suas convicções. Ele não iria crescer desanimado. Após um dia inteiro no capitólio, ele entrava em seu carro e dirigia para a igreja para tirar o sustento de sua família, de seu ministério, da comunidade que amava e precisava dele. Lá, ele iria fortalecer a sua fé, e imaginar o que poderia ser.
Reverendo Pinckney encarna uma política que não era nem medíocre, nem pequena. Ele a realizou em silêncio, e gentilmente, e diligentemente. Ele incentivou o progresso não empurrando suas idéias sozinho, mas pela procura de suas idéias, em parceria com pessoas como você para fazer as coisas acontecerem. Ele estava cheio de empatia e simpatia, capaz de se colocar no lugar dos outros e ver através de seus olhos. Não admira que um de seus colegas de Senado lembrou o senador Pinckney como "o mais suave dos 46 de nós -. O melhor dos 46 de nós" Clem muitas vezes foi perguntado sobre o por que ele escolheu ser um pastor e um funcionário público. Mas a pessoa que perguntou provavelmente não sabia a história da igreja AME. (Aplauso.) Como os nossos irmãos e irmãs na igreja AME sabem, nós não fazemos essas distinções. "A nossa vocação", Clem disse uma vez, "não é apenas dentro das paredes da congregação, mas ... a vida e a comunidade em que reside nossa congregação". (Aplausos).
Ele incorporou a ideia de que nossa fé cristã exige atos e não apenas palavras; que a "doce hora da oração" realmente dura toda a semana - (aplauso) - que colocar nossa fé em ação é mais do que a salvação individual, é sobre a nossa salvação coletiva; que alimentar os famintos e vestir os nus e abrigar os sem-teto não é apenas uma chamada para a caridade isolada, mas o imperativo de uma sociedade justa.
Que homem bom! Às vezes eu acho que é a melhor coisa a esperar quando você está sendo elogiado - depois de todas as palavras e recitações e currículos que são lidos, apenas para dizer que alguém era um bom homem. (Aplausos).
Você não tem que ser de alta estação para ser um bom homem. Pregador aos 13. Pastor aos 18. Servidor público aos 23. Que vida Clementa Pinckney viveu. Que exemplo que ele estabeleceu. O que é um modelo para a sua fé. E então perdê-lo aos 41 - morto em seu santuário com oito maravilhosos membros do seu rebanho, cada um em diferentes fases da vida, mas unidos por um compromisso comum com Deus.
Cynthia Hurd. Susie Jackson. Ethel Lance. DePayne Middleton-Doctor. Tywanza Sanders. Daniel L. Simmons. Sharonda Coleman-Singleton. Myra Thompson. Boas pessoas. Pessoas decentes. Tementes a Deus. (Aplausos). Pessoas tão cheias de vida e tão cheias de bondade. Pessoas que lideravam a corrida, que perseveraram. Pessoas de grande fé.
Para as famílias dos que tombaram, a nação se une em sua dor. Nossas cicatrizes são muito mais profundas porque aconteceu em uma igreja. A igreja é e sempre foi o centro da vida Afro-Americana - (aplauso) - um lugar para chamar de nossa em um mundo muito freqüentemente hostil, um santuário de tantas dificuldades.
Ao longo de séculos, igrejas negras serviram como "portos Hush" onde os escravos pudessem adorar em segurança; casas de louvor, onde seus descendentes livres poderiam se reunir e gritar aleluia - (aplauso) - paradas de descanso para o cansado ao longo da linha de trem; bunkers para os soldados do Movimento dos Direitos Civis. Elas têm sido, e continuam a ser, centros comunitários onde organizamos o emprego e justiça; locais de bolsas de estudo e de redes sociais; lugares onde as crianças são amadas e alimentadas e mantidas fora do caminho do mal, e onde se diz que elas são lindas e inteligentes - (aplauso) - e ensinam que elas são importantes. (Aplauso.) É o que acontece na igreja. Isso é o que a igreja negra significa. Nosso coração batendo. O lugar onde a nossa dignidade como pessoas é inviolável. Quando não há melhor exemplo desta tradição de Mãe Emanuel - (aplauso) - uma igreja construída pelos negros que buscam a liberdade, queimada até o chão, porque seu fundador tentou acabar com a escravidão, só para se levantar novamente, uma Phoenix a partir dessas cinzas. (Aplausos).
Quando havia leis que proibiam reuniões em igrejas somente para negros, os cultos aconteciam aqui de qualquer maneira, em desafio às leis injustas. Quando houve um movimento justo para desmantelar Jim Crow, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. pregou a partir do seu púlpito, e marchas começaram a partir de seus passos. Um lugar sagrado, esta igreja. Não apenas para os negros, e não apenas para os cristãos, mas para cada americano que se preocupa com o desenvolvimento constante - (aplauso) - dos direitos humanos e da dignidade humana neste país; uma pedra fundamental para a liberdade e a justiça para todos. Isso é o que a igreja queria dizer. (Aplausos).
Não sabemos se o assassino do Reverendo Pinckney e outros oito sabia de toda essa história. Mas ele certamente sentiu o significado de seu ato violento. Foi um ato que contou com uma longa história de bombas e incêndios e tiros disparados contra igrejas, não aleatoriamente, mas como um meio de controle, uma maneira de aterrorizar e oprimir. (Aplausos.) Um ato que ele imaginava iria incitar o medo e recriminação; violência e desconfiança. Um ato que ele presumia que aprofundaria as divisões que remontam ao pecado original da nossa nação.
Oh, mas Deus trabalha de formas misteriosas. (Aplausos.) Deus tem idéias diferentes. (Aplausos).
Ele não sabia que ele estava sendo usado por Deus. (Aplausos.) Cegado pelo ódio, o suposto assassino não podia ver a graça circundando o reverendo Pinckney e o grupo de estudo bíblico - a luz do amor que brilhava quando eles abriram as portas da igreja e convidaram um estranho para se juntar em seu círculo de oração. O suposto assassino nunca poderia ter antecipado a forma como as famílias dos mortos iriam responder quando viram ele no tribunal - em meio à tristeza indizível, com palavras de perdão. Ele não podia imaginar isso. (Aplausos).
O suposto assassino não poderia imaginar como a cidade de Charleston, no âmbito da boa e sábia liderança do Prefeito Riley - (aplauso) - como o Estado da Carolina do Sul, como os Estados Unidos da América iria responder - não apenas com repulsa a seu ato de maldade, mas com generosidade de coração e, mais importante, com uma introspecção pensativa e auto-exame que tão raramente vejo na vida pública.
Cegado pelo ódio, ele não conseguiu compreender o que o reverendo Pinckney tão bem compreendia - o poder da graça de Deus. (Aplausos).
Esta semana inteira, eu estive refletindo sobre essa ideia de graça. (Aplausos.) A graça das famílias que perderam entes queridos. A graça sobre a qual o reverendo Pinckney iria pregar em seus sermões. A graça descrita em um dos meus hinos favoritos - o que todos nós sabemos: Sublime graça, quão doce o som que salvou um miserável como eu. (Aplausos). Eu estava perdido, mas agora fui encontrado; era cego, mas agora vejo. (Aplausos).
De acordo com a tradição cristã, a graça não é merecida. A graça não é merecida. Não é algo que nós merecemos. Pelo contrário, a graça é o favor gratuito e benevolente de Deus - (aplauso) - como manifestado na salvação dos pecadores e na concessão de bênçãos. Graça.
Como uma nação, fora desta terrível tragédia, Deus visitou-nos em graça, porque ele nos permitiu ver onde nós estivemos cegos. (Aplausos.) Ele nos deu a chance, onde estive perdido, para encontrar o melhor de nós. (Aplausos.) Não pode ter ganhado isso, esta graça, com o nosso rancor e complacência e miopia e medo um do outro -, mas temos a mesma coisa. Ele deu-nos de qualquer maneira. Ele mais uma vez nos deu a graça. Mas cabe-nos agora fazer mais do mesmo, para recebê-lo com gratidão, e para nos mostrarmos dignos deste presente.
Por muito tempo, nós estávamos cegos para a dor quando a bandeira confederada era agitada por muitos dos nossos cidadãos. (Aplauso.) É verdade, uma bandeira não causou esses assassinatos. Mas como as pessoas de todas as esferas da vida, republicanos e democratas, agora reconhecem - incluindo o governador Haley, cuja eloquência recente sobre o assunto é digno de louvor - (aplauso) -, como todos nós temos que reconhecer, a bandeira sempre representou mais do que o orgulho apenas ancestral. (Aplausos). Para muitos, negros e brancos, a bandeira era um lembrete da opressão sistêmica e subjugação racial. Vemos isso agora.
Remover a bandeira do Capitólio deste estado não seria um ato de correção política; não seria um insulto ao valor de soldados confederados. Seria simplesmente um reconhecimento de que a causa pela qual lutaram - a causa da escravidão - estava errada - (aplauso) - a imposição de Jim Crow após a Guerra Civil, a resistência aos direitos civis para todos os povos estava errada . (Aplausos). Seria um passo em uma contabilidade honesta da história da América; um bálsamo modesto, mas significativo para tantas feridas não cicatrizadas. Seria uma expressão das incríveis mudanças que transformaram este Estado e este país para melhor, por causa do trabalho de tantas pessoas de boa vontade, as pessoas de todas as raças que se esforçam para formar uma união mais perfeita. Ao tombar essa bandeira, nós expressamos a graça de Deus. (Aplausos).
Mas eu não acho que Deus quer parar por aí. (Aplausos.) Por muito tempo, nós estivemos cegos para o caminho do passado e as injustiças continuam a moldar o presente. Talvez nós vemos isso agora. Talvez esta tragédia nos leva a fazer algumas perguntas difíceis sobre como podemos permitir que tantos de nossos filhos se definhem na pobreza, ou frequentem escolas em ruínas, ou crescem sem perspectivas de um emprego ou de carreira. (Aplausos.) Talvez nos leve a examinar o que estamos fazendo para causar ódio em algum dos nossos filhos. (Aplausos.) Talvez ele amoleça corações para com aqueles perdidos jovens homens, dezenas e dezenas de milhares apanhados no sistema de justiça criminal - (aplauso) - e nos leve a ter certeza de que esse sistema não está infectado; que abraçamos mudanças na forma como treinamos e equipamos nossa polícia para que os laços de confiança entre as autoridades policiais e as comunidades que eles servem tornem tudo mais seguro e protegido. (Aplausos).
Talvez agora percebemos a maneira como o preconceito racial pode nos infectar mesmo quando nós não percebemos isso, de modo que nós estamos protegendo não apenas contra insultos raciais, mas também estamos protegendo contra o impulso sutil de chamar Johnny para uma entrevista de emprego mas não o Jamal. (Aplausos.) Assim que buscamos nossos corações quando consideramos leis para tornar mais difícil para alguns dos nossos concidadãos a votar. (Aplausos.) Ao reconhecer nossa humanidade comum, tratando cada criança tão importante, independentemente da cor da sua pele ou o local em que nasceram, e fazer o que é necessário para tornar real a oportunidade para todos os americanos - ao fazer isso, expressamos a graça de Deus. (Aplausos).
Por muito tempo -
AUDIÊNCIA: Por muito tempo!
O presidente: Por muito tempo, nós estivemos cegos para o caos que a violência armada inflige sobre esta nação. (Aplausos.) Esporadicamente, os nossos olhos estão abertos: Quando oito de nossos irmãos e irmãs são cortados em um porão da igreja, 12 em uma sala de cinema, 26 em uma escola primária. Mas eu espero que nós também vejamos as 30 vidas preciosas interrompidas por violência armada neste país a cada dia; outros mais incontáveis cujas vidas são mudadas para sempre - os sobreviventes aleijados, as crianças traumatizadas e com medo a cada dia, enquanto caminham para a escola, o marido que nunca vai sentir o toque quente de sua esposa, as comunidades inteiras cuja dor transborda toda vez que eles tem que prestar atenção ao que lhes aconteceu a partir de algum outro lugar.
A grande maioria dos norte-americanos - a maioria dos proprietários de armas - quer fazer algo sobre isso. Vemos isso agora. (Aplausos.) E eu estou convencido de que, reconhecendo a dor e a perda de outros, assim como nós respeitamos as tradições e modos de vida que compõem este querido país - fazendo a escolha moral de mudar, nós expressamos a graça de Deus. (Aplausos).
Nós não ganhamos a graça. Somos todos pecadores. Nós não merecemos isso. (Aplausos). Mas Deus dá-nos de qualquer maneira. (Aplausos.) E a nós cabe escolher a forma de recebê-la. É nossa decisão como honrá-lo.
Nenhum de nós pode ou deve esperar uma transformação nas relações raciais do dia para a noite. Toda vez que algo assim acontece, alguém diz que temos de ter uma conversa sobre raça. Falamos muito sobre a raça. Não há nenhum atalho. E nós não precisamos mais falar. (Aplausos.) Nenhum de nós deve acreditar que um punhado de medidas de segurança sobre as armas impedirá toda tragédia. Não vai. Pessoas de boa vontade continuarão a debater os méritos de várias políticas, como a nossa democracia requer - este é um grande, barulhento lugar, a América. E há pessoas boas em ambos os lados desses debates. As soluções que encontrarmos serão necessariamente incompletas.
Mas seria uma traição a tudo o que o reverendo Pinckney representava, creio eu, se nós nos permitirmos escorregar em um silêncio confortável novamente. (Aplausos.) Uma vez que os elogios foram entregues, uma vez que as câmeras de TV seguirão em frente, para voltar ao negócio de sempre - isso é o que nós fazemos tão frequentemente para evitar verdades desconfortáveis sobre o preconceito que ainda contamina nossa sociedade. (Aplausos.) Contentarmo-nos com gestos simbólicos sem seguir com o trabalho árduo de mudança mais duradoura - é assim que perdemos o nosso caminho novamente.
Seria uma refutação do perdão expressa por essas famílias se nós simplesmente escorregássemos em velhos hábitos, sendo que aqueles que discordam de nós não são apenas errados, mas ruins; onde nós gritamos, em vez de ouvir; onde nos entricheiramos atrás de noções preconcebidas ou cinismo bem praticado.
O Reverendo Pinckney disse certa vez: "Em todo o Sul, temos um profundo apreço da história - que nem sempre tiveram uma profunda apreciação da história de cada um." (Aplausos). O que é verdade no Sul é verdade para a América. Clem entendeu que a justiça nasce do reconhecimento de nós mesmos no outro. Que minha liberdade depende de você ser livre também. (Aplausos.) Que a história não pode ser uma espada para justificar a injustiça, ou um escudo contra o progresso, mas deve ser um manual para saber como evitar a repetição dos erros do passado - como quebrar o ciclo. A estrada em direção a um mundo melhor. Ele sabia que o caminho da graça envolve uma mente aberta -, mas, mais importante, um coração aberto.
Isso é o que eu senti esta semana - um coração aberto. Isso, mais do que qualquer política ou análise particular, é o que é chamado agora, eu acho - o que um amigo meu, o escritor Marilyn Robinson, chama de "aquele reservatório de bondade, além de, e de outro tipo, de que somos capazes para fazer um ao outro na causa normal das coisas. "
Esse é um reservatório de bondade. Se nós podemos encontrar a graça, tudo é possível. (Aplausos). Se nós podemos encontrar a graça, tudo pode mudar. (Aplausos).
Graça maravilhosa. Graça maravilhosa.
(Começa a cantar) - Amazing grace - (aplauso) - como doce o som, que salvou um miserável como eu; Uma vez eu estava perdido, mas agora fui encontrado; era cego, mas agora vejo. (Aplausos).
Clementa Pinckney descobriu a graça.
Cynthia Hurd descobriu a graça.
Susie Jackson descobriu a graça.
Lance Ethel descobriu a graça.
DePayne Middleton-Doctor descobriu a graça.
Tywanza Sanders descobriu a graça.
Daniel L. Simmons, Sr. descobriu a graça.
Sharonda Coleman-Singleton descobriu a graça.
Myra Thompson descobriu a graça.
Através do exemplo de suas vidas, que eles passaram para nós. Que possamos encontrar-nos dignos deste dom precioso e extraordinário, enquanto nossas vidas suportarem. Que a graça agora irá levá-los para casa. Que Deus continue a derramar Sua graça sobre os Estados Unidos da América. (Aplausos).
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Texto original:
Here is the official transcript of President Barack Obama's eulogy to Sen. Clementa Pinckney, delivered at TD Arena in Charleston the afternoon of June 26, 2015:
REMARKS BY THE PRESIDENT IN EULOGY FOR THE HONORABLE REVEREND CLEMENTA PINCKNEY
College of Charleston Charleston, South Carolina
2:49 P.M. EDT
THE PRESIDENT: Giving all praise and honor to God. (Applause.)
The Bible calls us to hope. To persevere, and have faith in things not seen.
“They were still living by faith when they died,” Scripture tells us. “They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on Earth.” We are here today to remember a man of God who lived by faith. A man who believed in things not seen. A man who believed there were better days ahead, off in the distance. A man of service who persevered, knowing full well he would not receive all those things he was promised, because he believed his efforts would deliver a better life for those who followed. To Jennifer, his beloved wife; to Eliana and Malana, his beautiful, wonderful daughters; to the Mother Emanuel family and the people of Charleston, the people of South Carolina.
I cannot claim to have the good fortune to know Reverend Pinckney well. But I did have the pleasure of knowing him and meeting him here in South Carolina, back when we were both a little bit younger. (Laughter.) Back when I didn’t have visible grey hair. (Laughter.) The first thing I noticed was his graciousness, his smile, his reassuring baritone, his deceptive sense of humor -- all qualities that helped him wear so effortlessly a heavy burden of expectation.
Friends of his remarked this week that when Clementa Pinckney entered a room, it was like the future arrived; that even from a young age, folks knew he was special. Anointed. He was the progeny of a long line of the faithful -- a family of preachers who spread God’s word, a family of protesters who sowed change to expand voting rights and desegregate the South. Clem heard their instruction, and he did not forsake their teaching.
He was in the pulpit by 13, pastor by 18, public servant by 23. He did not exhibit any of the cockiness of youth, nor youth’s insecurities; instead, he set an example worthy of his position, wise beyond his years, in his speech, in his conduct, in his love, faith, and purity.
As a senator, he represented a sprawling swath of the Lowcountry, a place that has long been one of the most neglected in America. A place still wracked by poverty and inadequate schools; a place where children can still go hungry and the sick can go without treatment. A place that needed somebody like Clem. (Applause.)
His position in the minority party meant the odds of winning more resources for his constituents were often long. His calls for greater equity were too often unheeded, the votes he cast were sometimes lonely. But he never gave up. He stayed true to his convictions. He would not grow discouraged. After a full day at the capitol, he’d climb into his car and head to the church to draw sustenance from his family, from his ministry, from the community that loved and needed him. There he would fortify his faith, and imagine what might be.
Reverend Pinckney embodied a politics that was neither mean, nor small. He conducted himself quietly, and kindly, and diligently. He encouraged progress not by pushing his ideas alone, but by seeking out your ideas, partnering with you to make things happen. He was full of empathy and fellow feeling, able to walk in somebody else’s shoes and see through their eyes. No wonder one of his senate colleagues remembered Senator Pinckney as “the most gentle of the 46 of us -- the best of the 46 of us.” Clem was often asked why he chose to be a pastor and a public servant. But the person who asked probably didn’t know the history of the AME church. (Applause.) As our brothers and sisters in the AME church know, we don't make those distinctions. “Our calling,” Clem once said, “is not just within the walls of the congregation, but…the life and community in which our congregation resides.” (Applause.)
He embodied the idea that our Christian faith demands deeds and not just words; that the “sweet hour of prayer” actually lasts the whole week long -- (applause) -- that to put our faith in action is more than individual salvation, it's about our collective salvation; that to feed the hungry and clothe the naked and house the homeless is not just a call for isolated charity but the imperative of a just society.
What a good man. Sometimes I think that's the best thing to hope for when you're eulogized -- after all the words and recitations and resumes are read, to just say someone was a good man. (Applause.)
You don’t have to be of high station to be a good man. Preacher by 13. Pastor by 18. Public servant by 23. What a life Clementa Pinckney lived. What an example he set. What a model for his faith. And then to lose him at 41 -- slain in his sanctuary with eight wonderful members of his flock, each at different stages in life but bound together by a common commitment to God.
Cynthia Hurd. Susie Jackson. Ethel Lance. DePayne Middleton-Doctor. Tywanza Sanders. Daniel L. Simmons. Sharonda Coleman-Singleton. Myra Thompson. Good people. Decent people. God-fearing people. (Applause.) People so full of life and so full of kindness. People who ran the race, who persevered. People of great faith.
To the families of the fallen, the nation shares in your grief. Our pain cuts that much deeper because it happened in a church. The church is and always has been the center of African-American life -- (applause) -- a place to call our own in a too often hostile world, a sanctuary from so many hardships.
Over the course of centuries, black churches served as “hush harbors” where slaves could worship in safety; praise houses where their free descendants could gather and shout hallelujah -- (applause) -- rest stops for the weary along the Underground Railroad; bunkers for the foot soldiers of the Civil Rights Movement. They have been, and continue to be, community centers where we organize for jobs and justice; places of scholarship and network; places where children are loved and fed and kept out of harm’s way, and told that they are beautiful and smart -- (applause) -- and taught that they matter. (Applause.) That’s what happens in church. That’s what the black church means. Our beating heart. The place where our dignity as a people is inviolate. When there’s no better example of this tradition than Mother Emanuel -- (applause) -- a church built by blacks seeking liberty, burned to the ground because its founder sought to end slavery, only to rise up again, a Phoenix from these ashes. (Applause.)
When there were laws banning all-black church gatherings, services happened here anyway, in defiance of unjust laws. When there was a righteous movement to dismantle Jim Crow, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. preached from its pulpit, and marches began from its steps. A sacred place, this church. Not just for blacks, not just for Christians, but for every American who cares about the steady expansion -- (applause) -- of human rights and human dignity in this country; a foundation stone for liberty and justice for all. That’s what the church meant. (Applause.)
We do not know whether the killer of Reverend Pinckney and eight others knew all of this history. But he surely sensed the meaning of his violent act. It was an act that drew on a long history of bombs and arson and shots fired at churches, not random, but as a means of control, a way to terrorize and oppress. (Applause.) An act that he imagined would incite fear and recrimination; violence and suspicion. An act that he presumed would deepen divisions that trace back to our nation’s original sin.
Oh, but God works in mysterious ways. (Applause.) God has different ideas. (Applause.)
He didn’t know he was being used by God. (Applause.) Blinded by hatred, the alleged killer could not see the grace surrounding Reverend Pinckney and that Bible study group -- the light of love that shone as they opened the church doors and invited a stranger to join in their prayer circle. The alleged killer could have never anticipated the way the families of the fallen would respond when they saw him in court -- in the midst of unspeakable grief, with words of forgiveness. He couldn’t imagine that. (Applause.)
The alleged killer could not imagine how the city of Charleston, under the good and wise leadership of Mayor Riley -- (applause) -- how the state of South Carolina, how the United States of America would respond -- not merely with revulsion at his evil act, but with big-hearted generosity and, more importantly, with a thoughtful introspection and self-examination that we so rarely see in public life.
Blinded by hatred, he failed to comprehend what Reverend Pinckney so well understood -- the power of God’s grace. (Applause.)
This whole week, I’ve been reflecting on this idea of grace. (Applause.) The grace of the families who lost loved ones. The grace that Reverend Pinckney would preach about in his sermons. The grace described in one of my favorite hymnals -- the one we all know: Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. (Applause.) I once was lost, but now I’m found; was blind but now I see. (Applause.)
According to the Christian tradition, grace is not earned. Grace is not merited. It’s not something we deserve. Rather, grace is the free and benevolent favor of God -- (applause) -- as manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowal of blessings. Grace.
As a nation, out of this terrible tragedy, God has visited grace upon us, for he has allowed us to see where we’ve been blind. (Applause.) He has given us the chance, where we’ve been lost, to find our best selves. (Applause.) We may not have earned it, this grace, with our rancor and complacency, and shortsightedness and fear of each other -- but we got it all the same. He gave it to us anyway. He’s once more given us grace. But it is up to us now to make the most of it, to receive it with gratitude, and to prove ourselves worthy of this gift.
For too long, we were blind to the pain that the Confederate flag stirred in too many of our citizens. (Applause.) It’s true, a flag did not cause these murders. But as people from all walks of life, Republicans and Democrats, now acknowledge -- including Governor Haley, whose recent eloquence on the subject is worthy of praise -- (applause) -- as we all have to acknowledge, the flag has always represented more than just ancestral pride. (Applause.) For many, black and white, that flag was a reminder of systemic oppression and racial subjugation. We see that now.
Removing the flag from this state’s capitol would not be an act of political correctness; it would not be an insult to the valor of Confederate soldiers. It would simply be an acknowledgment that the cause for which they fought -- the cause of slavery -- was wrong -- (applause) -- the imposition of Jim Crow after the Civil War, the resistance to civil rights for all people was wrong. (Applause.) It would be one step in an honest accounting of America’s history; a modest but meaningful balm for so many unhealed wounds. It would be an expression of the amazing changes that have transformed this state and this country for the better, because of the work of so many people of goodwill, people of all races striving to form a more perfect union. By taking down that flag, we express God’s grace. (Applause.)
But I don't think God wants us to stop there. (Applause.) For too long, we’ve been blind to the way past injustices continue to shape the present. Perhaps we see that now. Perhaps this tragedy causes us to ask some tough questions about how we can permit so many of our children to languish in poverty, or attend dilapidated schools, or grow up without prospects for a job or for a career. (Applause.) Perhaps it causes us to examine what we’re doing to cause some of our children to hate. (Applause.) Perhaps it softens hearts towards those lost young men, tens and tens of thousands caught up in the criminal justice system -- (applause) -- and leads us to make sure that that system is not infected with bias; that we embrace changes in how we train and equip our police so that the bonds of trust between law enforcement and the communities they serve make us all safer and more secure. (Applause.)
Maybe we now realize the way racial bias can infect us even when we don't realize it, so that we're guarding against not just racial slurs, but we're also guarding against the subtle impulse to call Johnny back for a job interview but not Jamal. (Applause.) So that we search our hearts when we consider laws to make it harder for some of our fellow citizens to vote. (Applause.) By recognizing our common humanity by treating every child as important, regardless of the color of their skin or the station into which they were born, and to do what’s necessary to make opportunity real for every American -- by doing that, we express God’s grace. (Applause.)
For too long --
AUDIENCE: For too long!
THE PRESIDENT: For too long, we’ve been blind to the unique mayhem that gun violence inflicts upon this nation. (Applause.) Sporadically, our eyes are open: When eight of our brothers and sisters are cut down in a church basement, 12 in a movie theater, 26 in an elementary school. But I hope we also see the 30 precious lives cut short by gun violence in this country every single day; the countless more whose lives are forever changed -- the survivors crippled, the children traumatized and fearful every day as they walk to school, the husband who will never feel his wife’s warm touch, the entire communities whose grief overflows every time they have to watch what happened to them happen to some other place.
The vast majority of Americans -- the majority of gun owners -- want to do something about this. We see that now. (Applause.) And I'm convinced that by acknowledging the pain and loss of others, even as we respect the traditions and ways of life that make up this beloved country -- by making the moral choice to change, we express God’s grace. (Applause.)
We don’t earn grace. We're all sinners. We don't deserve it. (Applause.) But God gives it to us anyway. (Applause.) And we choose how to receive it. It's our decision how to honor it.
None of us can or should expect a transformation in race relations overnight. Every time something like this happens, somebody says we have to have a conversation about race. We talk a lot about race. There’s no shortcut. And we don’t need more talk. (Applause.) None of us should believe that a handful of gun safety measures will prevent every tragedy. It will not. People of goodwill will continue to debate the merits of various policies, as our democracy requires -- this is a big, raucous place, America is. And there are good people on both sides of these debates. Whatever solutions we find will necessarily be incomplete.
But it would be a betrayal of everything Reverend Pinckney stood for, I believe, if we allowed ourselves to slip into a comfortable silence again. (Applause.) Once the eulogies have been delivered, once the TV cameras move on, to go back to business as usual -- that’s what we so often do to avoid uncomfortable truths about the prejudice that still infects our society. (Applause.) To settle for symbolic gestures without following up with the hard work of more lasting change -- that’s how we lose our way again.
It would be a refutation of the forgiveness expressed by those families if we merely slipped into old habits, whereby those who disagree with us are not merely wrong but bad; where we shout instead of listen; where we barricade ourselves behind preconceived notions or well-practiced cynicism.
Reverend Pinckney once said, “Across the South, we have a deep appreciation of history -- we haven’t always had a deep appreciation of each other’s history.” (Applause.) What is true in the South is true for America. Clem understood that justice grows out of recognition of ourselves in each other. That my liberty depends on you being free, too. (Applause.) That history can’t be a sword to justify injustice, or a shield against progress, but must be a manual for how to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past -- how to break the cycle. A roadway toward a better world. He knew that the path of grace involves an open mind -- but, more importantly, an open heart.
That’s what I’ve felt this week -- an open heart. That, more than any particular policy or analysis, is what’s called upon right now, I think -- what a friend of mine, the writer Marilyn Robinson, calls “that reservoir of goodness, beyond, and of another kind, that we are able to do each other in the ordinary cause of things.”
That reservoir of goodness. If we can find that grace, anything is possible. (Applause.) If we can tap that grace, everything can change. (Applause.)
Amazing grace. Amazing grace.
(Begins to sing) -- Amazing grace -- (applause) -- how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me; I once was lost, but now I’m found; was blind but now I see. (Applause.)
[Click or tap here for video of this moment.]
Clementa Pinckney found that grace.
Cynthia Hurd found that grace.
Susie Jackson found that grace.
Ethel Lance found that grace.
DePayne Middleton-Doctor found that grace.
Tywanza Sanders found that grace.
Daniel L. Simmons, Sr. found that grace.
Sharonda Coleman-Singleton found that grace.
Myra Thompson found that grace.
Through the example of their lives, they’ve now passed it on to us. May we find ourselves worthy of that precious and extraordinary gift, as long as our lives endure. May grace now lead them home. May God continue to shed His grace on the United States of America. (Applause.)
Read more here: http://www.islandpacket.com/2015/06/27/3813877/full-transcript-of-president-obamas.html#storylink=cpy
Myra Thompson descobriu a graça.
Através do exemplo de suas vidas, que eles passaram para nós. Que possamos encontrar-nos dignos deste dom precioso e extraordinário, enquanto nossas vidas suportarem. Que a graça agora irá levá-los para casa. Que Deus continue a derramar Sua graça sobre os Estados Unidos da América. (Aplausos).
Leia mais aqui: http://www.islandpacket.com/2015/06/27/3813877/full-transcript-of-president-obamas.html#storylink=cpy
Texto original:
Here is the official transcript of President Barack Obama's eulogy to Sen. Clementa Pinckney, delivered at TD Arena in Charleston the afternoon of June 26, 2015:
REMARKS BY THE PRESIDENT IN EULOGY FOR THE HONORABLE REVEREND CLEMENTA PINCKNEY
College of Charleston Charleston, South Carolina
2:49 P.M. EDT
THE PRESIDENT: Giving all praise and honor to God. (Applause.)
The Bible calls us to hope. To persevere, and have faith in things not seen.
“They were still living by faith when they died,” Scripture tells us. “They did not receive the things promised; they only saw them and welcomed them from a distance, admitting that they were foreigners and strangers on Earth.” We are here today to remember a man of God who lived by faith. A man who believed in things not seen. A man who believed there were better days ahead, off in the distance. A man of service who persevered, knowing full well he would not receive all those things he was promised, because he believed his efforts would deliver a better life for those who followed. To Jennifer, his beloved wife; to Eliana and Malana, his beautiful, wonderful daughters; to the Mother Emanuel family and the people of Charleston, the people of South Carolina.
I cannot claim to have the good fortune to know Reverend Pinckney well. But I did have the pleasure of knowing him and meeting him here in South Carolina, back when we were both a little bit younger. (Laughter.) Back when I didn’t have visible grey hair. (Laughter.) The first thing I noticed was his graciousness, his smile, his reassuring baritone, his deceptive sense of humor -- all qualities that helped him wear so effortlessly a heavy burden of expectation.
Friends of his remarked this week that when Clementa Pinckney entered a room, it was like the future arrived; that even from a young age, folks knew he was special. Anointed. He was the progeny of a long line of the faithful -- a family of preachers who spread God’s word, a family of protesters who sowed change to expand voting rights and desegregate the South. Clem heard their instruction, and he did not forsake their teaching.
He was in the pulpit by 13, pastor by 18, public servant by 23. He did not exhibit any of the cockiness of youth, nor youth’s insecurities; instead, he set an example worthy of his position, wise beyond his years, in his speech, in his conduct, in his love, faith, and purity.
As a senator, he represented a sprawling swath of the Lowcountry, a place that has long been one of the most neglected in America. A place still wracked by poverty and inadequate schools; a place where children can still go hungry and the sick can go without treatment. A place that needed somebody like Clem. (Applause.)
His position in the minority party meant the odds of winning more resources for his constituents were often long. His calls for greater equity were too often unheeded, the votes he cast were sometimes lonely. But he never gave up. He stayed true to his convictions. He would not grow discouraged. After a full day at the capitol, he’d climb into his car and head to the church to draw sustenance from his family, from his ministry, from the community that loved and needed him. There he would fortify his faith, and imagine what might be.
Reverend Pinckney embodied a politics that was neither mean, nor small. He conducted himself quietly, and kindly, and diligently. He encouraged progress not by pushing his ideas alone, but by seeking out your ideas, partnering with you to make things happen. He was full of empathy and fellow feeling, able to walk in somebody else’s shoes and see through their eyes. No wonder one of his senate colleagues remembered Senator Pinckney as “the most gentle of the 46 of us -- the best of the 46 of us.” Clem was often asked why he chose to be a pastor and a public servant. But the person who asked probably didn’t know the history of the AME church. (Applause.) As our brothers and sisters in the AME church know, we don't make those distinctions. “Our calling,” Clem once said, “is not just within the walls of the congregation, but…the life and community in which our congregation resides.” (Applause.)
He embodied the idea that our Christian faith demands deeds and not just words; that the “sweet hour of prayer” actually lasts the whole week long -- (applause) -- that to put our faith in action is more than individual salvation, it's about our collective salvation; that to feed the hungry and clothe the naked and house the homeless is not just a call for isolated charity but the imperative of a just society.
What a good man. Sometimes I think that's the best thing to hope for when you're eulogized -- after all the words and recitations and resumes are read, to just say someone was a good man. (Applause.)
You don’t have to be of high station to be a good man. Preacher by 13. Pastor by 18. Public servant by 23. What a life Clementa Pinckney lived. What an example he set. What a model for his faith. And then to lose him at 41 -- slain in his sanctuary with eight wonderful members of his flock, each at different stages in life but bound together by a common commitment to God.
Cynthia Hurd. Susie Jackson. Ethel Lance. DePayne Middleton-Doctor. Tywanza Sanders. Daniel L. Simmons. Sharonda Coleman-Singleton. Myra Thompson. Good people. Decent people. God-fearing people. (Applause.) People so full of life and so full of kindness. People who ran the race, who persevered. People of great faith.
To the families of the fallen, the nation shares in your grief. Our pain cuts that much deeper because it happened in a church. The church is and always has been the center of African-American life -- (applause) -- a place to call our own in a too often hostile world, a sanctuary from so many hardships.
Over the course of centuries, black churches served as “hush harbors” where slaves could worship in safety; praise houses where their free descendants could gather and shout hallelujah -- (applause) -- rest stops for the weary along the Underground Railroad; bunkers for the foot soldiers of the Civil Rights Movement. They have been, and continue to be, community centers where we organize for jobs and justice; places of scholarship and network; places where children are loved and fed and kept out of harm’s way, and told that they are beautiful and smart -- (applause) -- and taught that they matter. (Applause.) That’s what happens in church. That’s what the black church means. Our beating heart. The place where our dignity as a people is inviolate. When there’s no better example of this tradition than Mother Emanuel -- (applause) -- a church built by blacks seeking liberty, burned to the ground because its founder sought to end slavery, only to rise up again, a Phoenix from these ashes. (Applause.)
When there were laws banning all-black church gatherings, services happened here anyway, in defiance of unjust laws. When there was a righteous movement to dismantle Jim Crow, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. preached from its pulpit, and marches began from its steps. A sacred place, this church. Not just for blacks, not just for Christians, but for every American who cares about the steady expansion -- (applause) -- of human rights and human dignity in this country; a foundation stone for liberty and justice for all. That’s what the church meant. (Applause.)
We do not know whether the killer of Reverend Pinckney and eight others knew all of this history. But he surely sensed the meaning of his violent act. It was an act that drew on a long history of bombs and arson and shots fired at churches, not random, but as a means of control, a way to terrorize and oppress. (Applause.) An act that he imagined would incite fear and recrimination; violence and suspicion. An act that he presumed would deepen divisions that trace back to our nation’s original sin.
Oh, but God works in mysterious ways. (Applause.) God has different ideas. (Applause.)
He didn’t know he was being used by God. (Applause.) Blinded by hatred, the alleged killer could not see the grace surrounding Reverend Pinckney and that Bible study group -- the light of love that shone as they opened the church doors and invited a stranger to join in their prayer circle. The alleged killer could have never anticipated the way the families of the fallen would respond when they saw him in court -- in the midst of unspeakable grief, with words of forgiveness. He couldn’t imagine that. (Applause.)
The alleged killer could not imagine how the city of Charleston, under the good and wise leadership of Mayor Riley -- (applause) -- how the state of South Carolina, how the United States of America would respond -- not merely with revulsion at his evil act, but with big-hearted generosity and, more importantly, with a thoughtful introspection and self-examination that we so rarely see in public life.
Blinded by hatred, he failed to comprehend what Reverend Pinckney so well understood -- the power of God’s grace. (Applause.)
This whole week, I’ve been reflecting on this idea of grace. (Applause.) The grace of the families who lost loved ones. The grace that Reverend Pinckney would preach about in his sermons. The grace described in one of my favorite hymnals -- the one we all know: Amazing grace, how sweet the sound that saved a wretch like me. (Applause.) I once was lost, but now I’m found; was blind but now I see. (Applause.)
According to the Christian tradition, grace is not earned. Grace is not merited. It’s not something we deserve. Rather, grace is the free and benevolent favor of God -- (applause) -- as manifested in the salvation of sinners and the bestowal of blessings. Grace.
As a nation, out of this terrible tragedy, God has visited grace upon us, for he has allowed us to see where we’ve been blind. (Applause.) He has given us the chance, where we’ve been lost, to find our best selves. (Applause.) We may not have earned it, this grace, with our rancor and complacency, and shortsightedness and fear of each other -- but we got it all the same. He gave it to us anyway. He’s once more given us grace. But it is up to us now to make the most of it, to receive it with gratitude, and to prove ourselves worthy of this gift.
For too long, we were blind to the pain that the Confederate flag stirred in too many of our citizens. (Applause.) It’s true, a flag did not cause these murders. But as people from all walks of life, Republicans and Democrats, now acknowledge -- including Governor Haley, whose recent eloquence on the subject is worthy of praise -- (applause) -- as we all have to acknowledge, the flag has always represented more than just ancestral pride. (Applause.) For many, black and white, that flag was a reminder of systemic oppression and racial subjugation. We see that now.
Removing the flag from this state’s capitol would not be an act of political correctness; it would not be an insult to the valor of Confederate soldiers. It would simply be an acknowledgment that the cause for which they fought -- the cause of slavery -- was wrong -- (applause) -- the imposition of Jim Crow after the Civil War, the resistance to civil rights for all people was wrong. (Applause.) It would be one step in an honest accounting of America’s history; a modest but meaningful balm for so many unhealed wounds. It would be an expression of the amazing changes that have transformed this state and this country for the better, because of the work of so many people of goodwill, people of all races striving to form a more perfect union. By taking down that flag, we express God’s grace. (Applause.)
But I don't think God wants us to stop there. (Applause.) For too long, we’ve been blind to the way past injustices continue to shape the present. Perhaps we see that now. Perhaps this tragedy causes us to ask some tough questions about how we can permit so many of our children to languish in poverty, or attend dilapidated schools, or grow up without prospects for a job or for a career. (Applause.) Perhaps it causes us to examine what we’re doing to cause some of our children to hate. (Applause.) Perhaps it softens hearts towards those lost young men, tens and tens of thousands caught up in the criminal justice system -- (applause) -- and leads us to make sure that that system is not infected with bias; that we embrace changes in how we train and equip our police so that the bonds of trust between law enforcement and the communities they serve make us all safer and more secure. (Applause.)
Maybe we now realize the way racial bias can infect us even when we don't realize it, so that we're guarding against not just racial slurs, but we're also guarding against the subtle impulse to call Johnny back for a job interview but not Jamal. (Applause.) So that we search our hearts when we consider laws to make it harder for some of our fellow citizens to vote. (Applause.) By recognizing our common humanity by treating every child as important, regardless of the color of their skin or the station into which they were born, and to do what’s necessary to make opportunity real for every American -- by doing that, we express God’s grace. (Applause.)
For too long --
AUDIENCE: For too long!
THE PRESIDENT: For too long, we’ve been blind to the unique mayhem that gun violence inflicts upon this nation. (Applause.) Sporadically, our eyes are open: When eight of our brothers and sisters are cut down in a church basement, 12 in a movie theater, 26 in an elementary school. But I hope we also see the 30 precious lives cut short by gun violence in this country every single day; the countless more whose lives are forever changed -- the survivors crippled, the children traumatized and fearful every day as they walk to school, the husband who will never feel his wife’s warm touch, the entire communities whose grief overflows every time they have to watch what happened to them happen to some other place.
The vast majority of Americans -- the majority of gun owners -- want to do something about this. We see that now. (Applause.) And I'm convinced that by acknowledging the pain and loss of others, even as we respect the traditions and ways of life that make up this beloved country -- by making the moral choice to change, we express God’s grace. (Applause.)
We don’t earn grace. We're all sinners. We don't deserve it. (Applause.) But God gives it to us anyway. (Applause.) And we choose how to receive it. It's our decision how to honor it.
None of us can or should expect a transformation in race relations overnight. Every time something like this happens, somebody says we have to have a conversation about race. We talk a lot about race. There’s no shortcut. And we don’t need more talk. (Applause.) None of us should believe that a handful of gun safety measures will prevent every tragedy. It will not. People of goodwill will continue to debate the merits of various policies, as our democracy requires -- this is a big, raucous place, America is. And there are good people on both sides of these debates. Whatever solutions we find will necessarily be incomplete.
But it would be a betrayal of everything Reverend Pinckney stood for, I believe, if we allowed ourselves to slip into a comfortable silence again. (Applause.) Once the eulogies have been delivered, once the TV cameras move on, to go back to business as usual -- that’s what we so often do to avoid uncomfortable truths about the prejudice that still infects our society. (Applause.) To settle for symbolic gestures without following up with the hard work of more lasting change -- that’s how we lose our way again.
It would be a refutation of the forgiveness expressed by those families if we merely slipped into old habits, whereby those who disagree with us are not merely wrong but bad; where we shout instead of listen; where we barricade ourselves behind preconceived notions or well-practiced cynicism.
Reverend Pinckney once said, “Across the South, we have a deep appreciation of history -- we haven’t always had a deep appreciation of each other’s history.” (Applause.) What is true in the South is true for America. Clem understood that justice grows out of recognition of ourselves in each other. That my liberty depends on you being free, too. (Applause.) That history can’t be a sword to justify injustice, or a shield against progress, but must be a manual for how to avoid repeating the mistakes of the past -- how to break the cycle. A roadway toward a better world. He knew that the path of grace involves an open mind -- but, more importantly, an open heart.
That’s what I’ve felt this week -- an open heart. That, more than any particular policy or analysis, is what’s called upon right now, I think -- what a friend of mine, the writer Marilyn Robinson, calls “that reservoir of goodness, beyond, and of another kind, that we are able to do each other in the ordinary cause of things.”
That reservoir of goodness. If we can find that grace, anything is possible. (Applause.) If we can tap that grace, everything can change. (Applause.)
Amazing grace. Amazing grace.
(Begins to sing) -- Amazing grace -- (applause) -- how sweet the sound, that saved a wretch like me; I once was lost, but now I’m found; was blind but now I see. (Applause.)
[Click or tap here for video of this moment.]
Clementa Pinckney found that grace.
Cynthia Hurd found that grace.
Susie Jackson found that grace.
Ethel Lance found that grace.
DePayne Middleton-Doctor found that grace.
Tywanza Sanders found that grace.
Daniel L. Simmons, Sr. found that grace.
Sharonda Coleman-Singleton found that grace.
Myra Thompson found that grace.
Through the example of their lives, they’ve now passed it on to us. May we find ourselves worthy of that precious and extraordinary gift, as long as our lives endure. May grace now lead them home. May God continue to shed His grace on the United States of America. (Applause.)
Read more here: http://www.islandpacket.com/2015/06/27/3813877/full-transcript-of-president-obamas.html#storylink=cpy
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