Ladies and Gentle Men:

It is with a profound sense of responsibility that I stand to speak to you today on a subject of such urgency that no words are truly adequate. Native American wisdom teaches that every crucial decision must be made in full recognition of its impact on the seventh generation. It is in this light we must look at any nation's decision regarding the use of nuclear weapons. The threatened use of nuclear weapons by any nation for any purpose at any time in any place holds hostage the future of our children and grandchildren and their children. The actual use of weapons of mass destruction would be an end to life in this world and possibly even worlds yet unknown to us.

As the World Council of Churches, an organization that I served for six years, said in 1983 at the sixth assembly in Vancouver, the council spoke against deterrence and for abolition. "The concept of deterrence, the credibility of which depends on the possible use of nuclear weapons, is to be rejected as morally unacceptable and as incapable of safeguarding peace and security in the long term. The production and deployment of nuclear weapons, as well as their use, constitutes a crime against humanity." These are strong words from an international church body representing over 300 churches. In 1995, Pope John Paul II called for the banishment of all nuclear weapons through "a workable system of negotiation, even arbitration. Archbishop Martino, representative of the Holy See to the U.N. said, "Nuclear weapons are incompatible with the peace we seek for the 21st Century. They cannot be justified. They deserve condemnation. The preservation of the nonproliferation treaty demands an unequivocal commitment to their abolition. These are unambiguous statements. But despite these strong statements, the commitment of the religious community overall has been timid.

Martin Luther King, who seemed always to sense the urgency of time - I have often wondered if he knew that his life would be cut short at the youthful age of 39 - said these words for our time in his brilliant sermon, A Knock at Midnight. "It is midnight in the social order." He went on to say, "In this terrible midnight [of war], men have knocked on the door of church [temple synagogue, mosque] to ask for the bread of peace, but too often religious institutions have disappointed. What more pathetically reveals the irrelevancy of the church in present day world affairs. In a world gone mad and with arms buildup, chauvinistic passions and imperialist exploitation, the religious institutions have often remained approvingly silent - or perhaps worse - have warred with one another. It is possible that there can be no world peace until there is religious peace. If this is true, then the world's religions must renounce proselytism and all attempts to claim one's religion's preference over another. Every faith and religion has its own extremists; these extremists set one religion against the other and thwart the inherent role of religion as peacemaker. We dare not impose any one religion on another. We dare not judge each other by extremists. The broad moderate voice must be energized.

So as representatives of the religious community, we must come on our knees confessing our failure to shine the light of love on the midnight darkness. But we would be twice wrong if we let our failures subdue our witness. There is a moral imperative to abolish nuclear weapons. It is a truth that must shatter the silence. Eli Wiesel said, "Indifference to evil is the enemy of the good, for indifference is the enemy of everything that exalts the honor of humanity."

Some of my colleagues when I speak to them of nuclear abolition look at me with what could be almost interpreted as pity. Some even say, "You are 70 years old. You have spoken up for a lifetime. Isn't is time for a rest?" Rest will come when God chooses for me to lie in peace. For now, there is work to be done.

Again, Martin Luther King is instructive. He understood his connection to issues on foreign policy. Drawing now on his prophetic speech at Riverside Church here in New York City on April 4, 1967, the speech in which he unequivocally joins the opposition to the war in Vietnam - his words resonate for our time just as powerfully as in that moment:

"If we do not act, we shall surely be dragged down the long, dark, and shameful corridors of time reserved for those who possess power without compassion, might without morality, and strength without sight.

Now let us begin. Now let us rededicate ourselves to the long and bitter, but beautiful, struggle for a new world. This is the calling of the sons and daughters of God, and our brothers and sisters wait eagerly for our response. Shall we say the odds are too great? Shall we tell them the struggle is too hard? Will our message be that the forces of American life militate against their arrival as full men, and we send our deepest regrets? Or will there be another message - of longing, of hope, of solidarity with their yearnings, of commitment to their cause, whatever the cost? The choice is ours, and though we might prefer it otherwise, we must choose in this crucial moment of human history."

As that noble bard of yesterday, James Russell Lowell, eloquently stated:

"Once to every man and nation comes a moment to decide,
In the strife of Truth and Falsehood, for the good or evil side;
Some great cause, God's new Messiah offering each the bloom or blight,
And the choice goes by forever 'twixt that darkness and that light.
Though her portions be the scaffold, and upon the throne be wrong
Yet that scaffold sways the future, and behind the dim unknown
Standeth God within the shadow, keeping watch above his own."

The phrase "keeping watch over God's own" is a key phrase, and if not adequately understood, could easily be used as a justification to value some lives more than others - to protect some people over others. "God's own" is not a restrictive term, but an inclusive embrace. The meaning must be given its broadest ecumenical/interfaith interpretation. "God's own" includes every living creature and the environment that nurtures and feeds that life. The word ecumenical, which comes from the Greek word oikos, meaning house, is the same root as in the words economy and ecology. We are all of one household. As a wise Rabbi once said, "when interpreting the great commandment common to all faith, "love your neighbor," the Rabbi taught that neighbor is not a geographic term but a moral term. The moral argument against the use of nuclear weapons is rooted in this understanding of the ecumenical. An African-American preacher from Cleveland, Ohio preached a sermon on this point. His title was, "Do not poison the well from which you drink." His point was profound: we all drink from the same well. We dare not delude ourselves that "first strike" would poison only the well of the other. Nuclear poison turns the water in the well of life into blood and poison for all who drink from that well.

This concept was made very clear to me during my attendance at a White House conference in 1998 on the subject, "Is there life on Mars?" The conference was the brainchild of the late scientist Carl Sagan. Carl and I were good though unlikely friends - believer and atheist. (Excuse this diversionary story.) When we would see each other, our mantra went like this. Carl to me, "You are so smart. How can you believe in God?" And I would answer back, "Carl, you are so smart. Why don't you believe in God?" We never resolved this dilemma. It finally was not important for, as Carl used to say, you don't have to agree on how the earth was formed to agree to protect it."

Back to the conference. The room was filled with Nobel laureate scientists. Each sharing their wisdom, "Yes," they said, "life seems possible." Only two from the world of religion were there; it was Carl's sense of humor. Much of this discussion was beyond my capacity to understand, but I shall never forget the moment when one of the women scientists said to the group, "In the biosphere independence is always death dealing. Interdependence is essential if life is to be sustained. And then she said, "Either our future will be an ecumenical interdependent future, or there will be no future at all." This is good science and very, very good religion. Indeed, as the preacher said, we all drink from the same well.

The moral principle that underlies our commitment to the future of humanity is the principle that acknowledges, rejoices, and holds as holy our interdependence. As the scientist said, it is life giving. The poorest peasant in the furthest, most remote corner of the world is our brother and sister. Together, we share a common responsibility for future generations. We need each other. Not only does the buildup of nuclear weapons put our future at risk by tempting fate with its use, but it uses precious resources that must be put toward those things that will truly make for peace:
.an end to abject poverty as we know it,
.an end to babies cradled in bone thin arms clasped to milkless breasts,
.an end to the unceasing wondering of refugees,
.an end to racism that denies full humanity to God's children of colorful hue,
.an end to sexism that assures the endless servanthood of women who bear in
their bodies future generations,
.and finally, an end to the assumption of privilege that comes from the belief that white and male and rich and western are the ones created in God's image;
that the privileged know best for the rest.

It is this assumption of privilege that gives rise to prejudice and economic superiority. It is this assumption of privilege coupled with power that makes the abolition of nuclear weapons imperative. We dare not risk humanity's future by placing it in the hands of any one nation, race, or gender. Speaking to my own nation, I would remind us of the Biblical imperative, "Unto whom much is given, much is required." When we declare to the world that we reserve to ourselves the right of first strike, then we as a nation give up the moral high ground that can only be claimed if we declare our commitment to abolish nuclear weapons. Then and then alone can we call the world to strive for peace. Then by our actions, not just our words, we will fire the moral imaginations of the nations and their leaders. We need to fire the moral imaginations of the nations and their leaders. A world at peace is possible, but it will require radical rethinking of the way resources are used. It is midnight in the social order, but if we can dream of daybreak, we can move past midnight. All life is risk. To risk on behalf of humanity is moral choice. To protect the future with weapons is highest risk without moral choice.

We can no longer afford to worship the god of hate or bow before the altar of retaliation. The oceans of history are made turbulent by the ever-rising tides of hate. History is cluttered with the wreckage of nations and individuals that pursued this self-defeating path of hate. As Arnold Toynbee says: "Love is the ultimate force that makes for the saving choice of life and good against the damning choice of death and evil. Therefore, the first hope in our inventory must be the hope that love is going to have the last word."

We are now faced with the fact, my friends, that tomorrow is today. We are confronted with the fierce urgency of now. In this unfolding conundrum of life and history, there is such a thing as being too late. Procrastination is still the thief of time. Life often leaves us standing bare, named, and dejected with a lost opportunity. The tide in the affairs of men does not remain at good; it ebbs. We may cry out desperately for time to pause in her passage, but time is adamant to every plea and rushes on. Over the bleached bones and jumbled residues of numerous civilizations are written the pathetic words, "Too late." There is an invisible book of life that faithfully records our vigilance or our neglect. Oman Khayyam is right: "The moving finger writes, and having writ moves on."