Transcript of 

Dr. Condoleeza Rice's speech at the 

National Prayer Breakfast,

 

 


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I am honored by the invitation to be here this morning.  It is the day when official Washington gathers not as Republicans or Democrats, not as conservatives or liberals, not as Christians, or Jews, or Muslims, rather we gather as a fellowship of the faithful, who share a love of God and who embrace God's will and ways even in moments of pain and loss when those ways seem mysterious to us.  Today our nation's thoughts are particularly with the seven brave souls taken from us five mornings ago and with their families.  We pray that in losing their mortal lives they have found eternal life in His care.

I approach the honor of addressing you with the deepest of humility and maybe even a little dread.  You see I am not a member of the clergy, however I am the daughter, the granddaughter, and indeed the niece of ordained Presbyterian ministers and as you might imagine I am hoping to draw on those genes today.  This occasion none the less feels very familiar to me. Sundays in my family meant Church.  It was the center of our lives.  In segregated Black Birmingham of the late 1950's and the early 1960's, the Church was not just a place of worship.  It was the social and civic center of our lives.

Throughout my life, I have never once, not for one moment doubted the existence of God, but like most people I have had some ups and downs in practicing my faith.  After I moved to California in 1981 to teach at Stanford, there were a few years there, when I was not attending church very regularly.  I was traveling a great deal. I was always in a different time zone and going to Church seemed to fall by the wayside and then something happened that I will always remember.  

One Sunday morning when I should have been in Church, I was in the Lucky's supermarket instead very near my house and a man came up to me, a Black man, said he was buying some things for his church picnic and he asked me "Do you by any chance play the piano?"  A little startled at the fact that this total stranger knew this fact of my life, I said "Yes" and he said that his congregation was looking for someone to play the piano at their church.  It was a small African-American church in the center of Palo Alto and I started playing there every Sunday and I thought to myself 'my goodness God has a long reach, right into the spice isle of a Lucky's supermarket.'

The only problem you see was that this church was Baptist.  I am Presbyterian and like all Presbyterians, Black Presbyterians don't speak in church unless they're spoken to, and to be very truthful about it, unlike our great Attorney General, John Ashcroft, I don't play Gospel very well, I play Brahms.  At this church, the minister would start a song in no known key and the musician was supposed to come back, and back him up.  I had no
idea what I was doing.  So I called my mother, who had played for Baptist churches, and I asked her advice.  She said, "Honey just play in the key of C and they will come back to you."   And you know that's true.  If you play in C, the foundational key in music, people will come back to you. Perhaps God plays in C, and that is why we always seem to find our way back to him, sometimes in spite of ourselves.

Looking back on the years since I found my way back, it is hard for me to imagine life without a strong and active faith.  Faith is what gives comfort and humility and hope, even in the darkest hours.  Like many people here and
abroad, I have turned to God in prayer more and more in this past year and a half, including this past Saturday morning.  Terror and tragedy have made us more aware of our vulnerability and our own mortality.  

We are living through a time of testing and consequence, and praying that our wisdom and will are equal to the work before us.  And it is times like these that remind us of a paradox, that it is indeed a privilege to struggle.  A privilege to struggle for what is right and true, a privilege to struggle for freedom over tyranny, a privilege even to struggle with the most difficult and profound moral choices.

American slaves used to sing "Nobody knows the trouble I've seen, glory hallelujah."  Growing up I thought that was an incredible contradiction, but as I have grown older I have come to learn that there is no contradiction at
all.  This is the same message found in Romans 5, where we are told to rejoice in our sufferings, knowing that suffering produces endurance, and endurance produces character, and character produces hope, and hope does not disappoint us, because God's love has been poured into our hearts through the Holly Spirit which has been given to us.  

There are two lessons in this message: First, there is the lesson that only through struggle do we realize the depths of our resilience and understand that the hardest of blows can be survived and overcome.  Too often when all is well, we slip into the false joy and satisfaction of the material and the complacent pride and faith in ourselves, yet it is through struggle that we find redemption and self knowledge and in this sense it is a privilege to struggle, because it frees one from the idea that the human spirit is fragile, like a house of cards, or that human strength is fleeting.  We see this theme illustrated in sacred text all over the world.

In the book of Job, God test's Job's faith by taken from him everything that he cherishes, his wealth, his health, and his family.  Even in his trials one of Job's friends counsels him to be patient, saying 'Behold, happy is the man whom God correcteth: therefore despise not thou the chastening of
the Almighty: For he maketh sore, and bindeth up: he woundeth, and he makes whole again. . . . In famine he shall redeem thee from death: and in war from the power of the sword. . .  And thou shalt know that thy tabernacle
shall be in peace".  

You all know the end of the story of Job.  Job's sufferings strengthened his faith and we are told he was rewarded with twice as much as he had before and that he lived 140 years and he was old and full of days.  We learn in times of personal struggle: the loss of a loved one, illness, or turmoil, that there is a peace that passes understanding, when our intellect is unequal to the task, the spirit takes over, finding peace in the midst of pain is the true fulfillment of one's humanity. Struggle doesn't just strengthen us to survive hard times, it is also the key foundation for true optimism and accomplishment.  Indeed personal achievement without struggle is incomplete and hollow.  It is true for human kind that nothing of lasting value has ever been achieved without sacrifice. 

There is a second perhaps more important lesson to be learned from struggle and from suffering and that is, we can use the strength that it gives us for the good of others.  Nothing good is born of personal struggle if it is used
to fuel one's sense of entitlement or superiority to those who we perceive to have struggled less.  Everyone in this room has been blessed, and I am sure that we all know it is a very dangerous thing to think about the hand that one has been dealt, if we end up questioning why someone else has been
given more.  If on the other hand we think about our blessings and ask why we have been given so much and others so little, it is sobering and humbling.  Our goal must not be to get through a personal struggle so that others can congratulate us on our resilience, nor is it to dwell on struggle as a badge of honor.  

Perhaps this is why in describing his personal struggles; the Apostle Paul felt it necessary to say to the Philippians "forgetting those things that are behind, and reaching forward to those things which are ahead, I press toward the goal for the prize of the upward call of God in Christ Jesus."  We find a similar idea in the Talmud, which says 'one should only pray in a house that has windows, in order that we may remember the outside world', and we find Muhammad saying in the Hadith, 'no one of you is a believer until he desires for his brother that which he desires for himself'.  But to direct the energies from our struggles toward the good of others we must find a way to let go of the pain and the bad memories and the sense of unfairness of "why me" that inevitably accompanies turmoil. This lesson applies not only to individuals but to nations. 

America emerged from the losses of September 11th as a nation that is not only stronger, but hopefully better and more generous.  Tragedy made us appreciate our freedom more; it made us more conscious of the fact that God gives all people everywhere the right to be free.  It made us more thankful for our own prosperity, for life and for health, and more aware that all people everywhere deserve the opportunity for a better future.  It prompted us to cultivate what the president has called the habit of service to others
so that the gathering momentum of millions of acts of kindness may bring hope to people in desperate need, and perhaps most importantly September 11th reminded us of our heritage as a tolerant nation; One that welcomes people of  all faiths, or people of no faith at all.  

Now as our nation once again deals with great loss, with fears, and with uncertainties, let us recommit ourselves to those values which define us.  Let us renew our quest for understanding of the natural world and all the heavens which God has made.  Let us renew our commitment to standing for life and liberty and peace for all people.  Let us renew our commitment to working with all nations to conquer want and hunger and disease in every corner of the globe and let us accept our responsibility to defend the freedom which we are so privileged to enjoy.

If terror and tragedy spur us to rediscover and strengthen these commitments, then we can truly say good has come from great loss.  We can truly sing "no one knows the trouble I've seen, glory hallelujah" and in all the trials that may lie ahead we can carry these commitments close to our
heart, so that we may leave a better world for those who follow.  This is our prayer for our nation and our people.  This is our prayer for all nations and all people.

Lord hear our prayer.

Thank you


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So much of Dr. Rice's speech is inspirational and is exactly what needs to be said.  I wish more of our leaders had greater personal faith and trust in the God we serve.  I have a deep respect for Dr. Rice and thank God she is in a position of national leadership.  However, I am troubled by a tendency on the part of many, if not all, of our political leaders to be polite and all inclusive of the religions of the world.

I must say I long for the day when our political leaders stand and say there is no other God for the United States save the God of the Bible; that this country does not recognize the god of the talmud or the god of the koran or the god of any other supposed sacred writings. Only the God of the Bible led our forefathers in the initial building of our country.  Only the God of the Bible led us through TWO World Wars.  I am convinced only the God of the Bible watched over our country and the world during the Cuban missle crisis.  

I believe it will lead to disastrous consequences to adhere to the notion that it does not matter what you believe so long as you believe something! History supports that belief.

Would that our leaders rise up like Elijah of old and say in like fashion if these other gods be god then serve them, but if the God of the Bible be God then serve Him! I reject the notion that the choice of which god to chose and serve is like a cafeteria selection and that the choices are all equal.

John Gallemore

 

Created: 03.24.03

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