It was the spring of 1970 and the war in Vietnam was in full swing, as were the protests around the country.
In April of that year, U.S. and South Vietnamese forces expanded military operations into Cambodia, and students on campuses across our nation erupted in protest. On May 4, the Ohio National Guard, called out to disperse a crowd on the Kent State University campus, opened fire upon the student gathering, killing four and wounding nine. Campus protests across the country responded with more violence.
It was a serious and intense time. Young people were being killed both on the battlefields of Vietnam and on American campuses.
At Virginia Tech, an academic building, Williams Hall, was occupied by protestors. I was there, and I was supportive, though I was not in the building at the time the arrests were made. When the police arrived (in full riot gear) I was at the front door of the building and was told to move, which I did not do. An officer got behind me and with his baton pushed me down the stairs into the bushes. I was not injured, but I made the most of the moment with a dramatic shout and my fist held in the air. I was angry. And I hoped somebody was filming me. (They weren't.)
Within a year I would become a Christian and no longer be that angry anti-war demonstrator.
What happened? And how do I look back on that now?
Most of us felt that President Nixon was the epitome of evil, while many patriotic Americans thought he was the greatest president ever. Turns out he was somewhere in-between.
The National Guard should not, repeat, should not, have fired upon unarmed students. That was a national tragedy.
Students should not take over buildings. Those were not our buildings.
I should not have resisted the police. There is such a thing as rule of law. The police had a right to vacate the building and I was being (in by Dad's words) a brat. Actually, he would have used stronger words that I shall not print.
The Vietnam War had a lot of bad about it, not only from the angle of communism and war in general, but also from the decisions our national leadership made. As it turns out, most of America's enemies fare pretty well after war is over. (Some of my shirts now are made in Vietnam.) Communism is still bad. My greatest regret is how badly Vietnam veterans were treated upon return to the U.S. Many brave men and women died serving our country, and they deserve greater honor.
When I look back on my 19-year-old self I see a self-righteous, angry young man, very selective in the injustices he was angry about. I was right about some stuff, wrong about some stuff, and largely ignorant about everything. Within a year I would see how much sin and rebellion and indignity and injustice and perversion of my own I had thrown in the face of a holy God, a holy God who had every right to judge me for eternity. Yet he sent his Son to bear my sin upon himself.
The Holy Spirit in his infinite mercy lifted the lid on the cesspool of my pride and vanity, and when I got a whiff of the stench of my own depravity, I was amazed that I had the audacity to call anyone out for injustice of any kind. Fifty years later we seem to be repeating much of the same anger and self-righteousness. (These two things seem to go together in direct proportion.)
It's about context. When Jesus stooped and wrote in the sand -- remember the woman they brought to Jesus to condemn? (John 8) She was probably guilty, but so was a man somewhere not seen. Anyway, Jesus stooped and wrote in the sand, and as all the men were looking on, this happened: "...they went away one by one, beginning with the older ones..." (John 8:9). Each one of those guys had some history and knew about their own failure. There was some context, some personal failure, and they put the stones down, hung their heads, and went home to think things over.
Then should we never protest injustice? Should we never lodge a protest? Oh, we can, when we are fully informed. When we do it in the right way. And when we have checked our own hearts at the door of God's justice and mercy.
But first we need to be like that tax collector on the temple mount (Luke 18:13), with head bowed and eyes cast down, saying,
"God, be merciful to me, a sinner!"
Image credit: photo above by Leena A. Krohn on Wikimedia of an antiwar march in Washington D.C. U.S. Navy photo of participant in 2006 Rolling Thunder at the Vietnam Veteran's Memorial.
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