The Sesquicentennial: Heirs of History, Heirs of Hope
Before going to bed that night, he penned a letter to his wife, as he did most nights when away from her. He wrote of having gone to the opera that evening, where he heard an Italian prima donna, Adelina Patti, sing "like a nightingale." He wrote, "I never heard anything like it in my life. You can form no idea of her wonderful powers from a description." (Verdi said the same, calling her the greatest vocalist he ever heard.)
Having opened his letter with a report of his operatic adventure, he then spent the better part of the letter "open[ing] the windows of his heart" to his beloved, writing of how "spooney" he was for her. I have several dozen letters he wrote her over the years, and their mutual affection is utterly charming and endearing. He closes the letter with grace and with suggestiveness, all at once, looking forward to their reunion.
Inserted, meanwhile, almost incidentally, about half way through the letter, are the following words,
"As to Politics, the Legislature has passed a bill unanimously calling a convention to assemble in the middle of December to secede the State out of the Union. The other cotton states will follow & we shall have a southern confederacy. That's enough politics for a lover to write to the cherished object of his affections."
Thirteen of eighty seven lines in his letter he devotes to what happened that day, November 10, 1860, in the South Carolina legislature, where he sat representing, ironically, Union District.
That was one hundred and fifty years ago this month; and they were my great-great-great grandparents Wallace.
Much suffering was to come, and much blood would be spilled, before he surrendered at Appomattox four and a half years later. And, meanwhile, his wife's younger brother would be buried in Hollywood Cemetery.
However much we do or don't think about the American Civil War, and however much we do or don't want to think about the American Civil War, it has shaped our world and, indeed, our lives in profound ways. And is that more true anywhere than in Richmond, Virginia? Surely not.
We are on the cusp of the Sesquicentennial of the Civil War & Emancipation, and we must ask ourselves what our response will be, as Virginians and, yes, as Christians. As I have said to Ed Ayers, President of the University of Richmond, and to many others, if the Church doesn't have something to say to this moment in our history, then what does that say?
We must have something to say; the Gospel of Jesus Christ demands it, in the name of reconciliation, in the name of healing, in the name of humanity. And if there is a state that should have something to say, then surely it is Virginia. And if there is a city that should have something to say, then surely it is Richmond. And, I dare say, if there is a church that should have something to say, then, yes, surely it is St. Paul's Church. So then, what will we say, and what will we do?
I have some ideas. And I am eager to hear yours.
What word will the Prince of Peace speak in our hearts, and into our lives, and into our city, in the next four and half years? And how might we be handmaidens to the word of Christ at this moment in our history? How might this become a Gospel moment, a moment for Christ to change us and to change our city?
I can hardly wait to see.
Your brother in Christ,
Wallace+
