Biblical Politics and the Legacy of MLK

Today is a dual American celebration. It is Martin Luther King Day — a time to reflect on, learn from and celebrate the greatest American of the 20th century. And it is also Inauguration Day — a time when all Americans, regardless of whom we voted for, can similarly acknowledge the greatness of our political tradition.

It is fortuitous that the two days coincide this year — as there is one lesson in particular, especially in these politically polarizing times, that we can learn from Dr. King. And Dr. King, who called himself a “Hebraic Christian,” seems to have learned it from the source that explicitly inspired his sermons and teachings — the Torah.

It is Genesis 29. Jacob, fleeing the murderous wrath of his brother Esau, travels to Haran — the birthplace of his mother, a land that he has never seen and where he knows no one.

He sees some shepherds — and does not like how they are doing their work. He says: “The sun is still high; it is not time for the flocks to be gathered. Water the sheep and take them back to pasture.”

The response of these young men is fascinating. One might think that some combination of pride, anger and resentment would have caused them to lash out at this audacious stranger who emerges from nowhere to call them lazy. But there is none. Instead, they explain why they worked as they did — and introduce him to the fairest maiden in their land, Rachel.

How did they disagree so well? The answer lies in how Jacob introduced the conversation. He said: “My brothers, where are you from?”

The key word: Brothers. He had established that any disagreement should be understood in the context of what they shared together.

How can we be sure that it was this use of “brothers” that allowed their relationship to prosper amidst such disagreement? Let’s fast forward to Genesis 45. Jacob, now an old man with many children, needs to get food for his family amidst a global famine. He had sent his sons to Egypt — which, thanks to the vision and execution of an extraordinary administrator, had plenty. Jacob did not know that the administrator was his long-lost son Joseph. And neither did his other sons, who had sold Joseph into slavery long ago. But Joseph knows exactly who has come before him for food.

Joseph conceives and executes an extraordinary ruse, in order to see whether his brothers have genuinely repented from their sin years before. Satisfied that they have, he reveals himself.

He says: “I am Joseph. Is my father still alive?”

The brothers are stunned. They presumably expected Joseph to have died the anonymous death of a Hebrew slave in a foreign land — but here he was, the most powerful man in the world’s greatest kingdom. They also, we learn later in the text, fear that Joseph will use his power to take revenge upon them.

They are silent, incapable of speaking.

Then Joseph says: “I am your brother Joseph.” With the same word his father used — brother — the siblings kiss and cry with Joseph, and the reconciliation begins.

In 1863, the United States was in the midst of a dreadful Civil War. Between July 1 and July 3, 1863, fifty thousand people were killed in the Battle of Gettysburg. Following the battle, the Union decided to take the fallen from the field and to bury them at the newly consecrated National Cemetery of the Battle of Gettysburg. The ceremony for the cemetery’s establishment was to be on November 19, 1863.

President Lincoln, even though he was not to be the main speaker, accepted an invitation to address the crowd.

He began his speech. “Four score and seven years ago our fathers brought forth, upon this continent, a new nation, conceived in Liberty, and dedicated to the proposition that all men are created equal.”

He continued – in a speech that ran only 272 words. Yet his few words inspired an army, laid the foundation for reuniting a nation, revealed the essence of a man and became immortalized in history as constituting one of the greatest political speeches of all time.

The mentalist Tim David, writing in the Harvard Business Review, explains how: “Words like ‘liberty’ and phrases like ‘all men are created equal’ are pulled directly from a document that Americans – then and now — revere like no other, the Declaration of Independence. To nod your head in agreement at those words is a near compulsion.”

The spirit of unity that President Lincoln invoked in the beginning of the speech builds throughout. This is exemplified in the absence of a particular word — “I.” President Lincoln never says “I,” but instead uses the words “we” and “us” a dozen times — with those words of inclusion referring to the shared principles and goals of the combatants on both sides.

(One of two confirmed photos of Lincoln- seated in center facing camera- at Gettysburg, November 19, 1863)

A hundred years later, the greatest American of his century took to a stage in Winnetka, IL. Martin Luther King had just won the Nobel Peace Prize, and credible threats on his life abounded. He was well aware that those he would rightly call “vicious racists” could make him a martyr. He said: “If physical death is the price I must pay to free my white brothers and sisters from a permanent death of the spirit, then nothing could be more redemptive.”

There is the word again — brothers — used in the same context as his forebearers Jacob and Joseph: purposeful disagreement and anticipated reconciliation, communicating the shared purpose and destiny exemplified by siblings.

As with Jacob and Joseph, Dr. King’s genuine invoking of the term “brothers” worked. He was able to achieve legal equality for his people in his lifetime, as was made manifest by the Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965. And the impact on American culture and society was just as profound. From 1958 to 1998, the percentage of whites who would move if a black family became their neighbor dropped from 44% to 1%. From 1958 to 2021, the percentage of white people who approved of interracial marriage rose from 4% to 94%.

There is now, thanks to the great 21st century social scientist Jonathan Haidt, a term that describes the spirit animating the “brothers” reference of Jacob, Joseph and Martin Luther King: Common Humanity Politics. And the importance and success of common humanity politics is by no means limited to these three great men. Its presence or absence keeps explaining why politicians and political campaigns win or lose.

(Martin Luther King Jr. delivering a speech outside the Lincoln Memorial, August 28, 1963, National Park Service, CC BY 2.0, via Wikimedia Commons)

On July 4, 1948, the British Minister of Health Aneurin Bevin celebrated a political victory. He did so by calling his opponents, the Tories, “lower than vermin.” Young conservatives responded by forming a “Vermin Society” — which had over 100,000 members. This movement launched the career of its “Chief Vermin” — Margaret Thatcher, who would become one of the most important conservative leaders in the 20th century.

On September 9, 2016, Hillary Clinton gave a campaign speech at an LGBT fundraiser. She said: “You could put half of Trump’s supporters into what I call a basket of deplorables. Right? They’re racist, sexist, homophobic, xenophobic, Islamophobic — you name it.” This statement — of unshared humanity, of enemies rather than siblings —- was greeted with laughter and applause at the event. It also likely cost her the election.

On October 30, 2024, Joe Biden gave some remarks about the Presidential election a few days away. He called supporters of President Trump, “garbage.” The remark likely did not cost Kamala Harris the election, but it neatly captured the reasons why she did lose.

Just as the absence of common humanity politics accounts for recent political losses, its presence explains a spectacular and otherwise impossible political victory.

In 1973, the town of North Star Delaware had a political event. A participant asked a young Senator Joe Biden what he thought of the fact that homosexuality was a disqualifier from entering the Civil Service. Senator Biden answered, “My gut reaction is that they are security threats, but I must admit that I haven’t given this much thought…I’ll be darned!”

Senator Biden stayed “darned” – the Civil Service kept excluding homosexuals, without opposition from Delaware’s junior senator. He was in line with the culture of the time. In 1985, 89% of Americans said that they would be “upset” or “very upset” if their child were gay. In 1988, a majority of junior high school and high school students in New York City said that it would be less than “acceptable” to have a gay neighbor.

Fast forward to 2015. The Supreme Court, in Obergefell v. Hodges, ruled that the Constitution required states to recognize same sex marriages. Yet, Obergefell was not like Roe. v. Wade – which thrust an outcome upon a sharply divided public and unintentionally launched a large, powerful and enduring movement dedicated to its repeal. By the time Obergefell was decided, forty states had passed legislation protecting gay marriage. Obergefell was in line with where the country was going.

Consequently, opposition to the Obergefell decision was muted, technical and short. Further data shows why. In 1996, 27% of Americans supported gay marriage; in 2021, 71% did. And while most New York high school students said in 1988 that they would be uncomfortable with a gay neighbor, approximately 75% of Americans said in 2022 that they would be neutral or comfortable if their child were gay.

What happened? This extraordinary shift in public opinion -- perhaps the fastest on any major social issue in American history -- was achieved in the spirit of “brothers” exemplified by Jacob, Joseph and Martin Luther King Jr.

This approach is summarized in the title of Andrew Sullivan’s seminal 1995 book- “Virtually Normal.” Homosexuals, he and others emphasized (notably Frank Kameny, David Mixner, Evan Wolfson and Jonathan Rausch), were not at all countercultural or “alternative.” Jonathan Rausch explained, “Same-sex marriage…is about equality and rights, yes, but it is also about responsibility and obligation. Marriage joins couples not just in a contract with each other but also in a pact with their community, their kids, their God and millennia of custom. Gay and lesbian Americans yearn for these bonds.”

(James Obergefell (left), the plaintiff in Obergefell vs. Hodges and his lawyer, Al Gerhardstein, 26 June, 2015. Credit: Elvert Barnes, CC BY-SA 2.0 via Wikimedia Commons)

On this day when we honor Dr. King – and here, how he emulated Jacob and Joseph as a “Hebraic Christian” – it is important to also recognize an important subtlety of common humanity politics. It does not ask for any concession, compromise or diminution. Jacob insisted that the men work harder and smarter. Joseph wanted to completely reconcile. Abraham Lincoln pressed on with the war, not relenting until unconditional surrender and the freeing of the slaves. Martin Luther King always wanted full and immediate equality for black Americans. And Andrew Sullivan and Jonathan Rausch never went for civil unions – they insisted upon marriage.

They did so with the spirit and sometimes even the language of Jacob, Joseph and Martin Luther King – teaching us that even the sharpest divides can be crossed and the most daunting political challenges can be won with a genuine and clearly articulated sense of shared purpose and common destiny.