A tale of two monuments

Not a typical child’s outing. But a picture’s worth a thousand words so last year we took our grade school granddaughter to show her the impressive structure.

The 90 foot spire stands high on a hill overlooking the Mississippi River in Alton, Illinois. Perched on top is a huge winged figure sounding a battle trumpet.

The monument doesn’t celebrate a typical hero to which our granddaughter, Cadence, and her generation could readily relate—no teen pop star, comic super hero or sports figure. Rather, it honors a man who took a courageous stand for his convictions nearly two centuries ago and, in doing so, paid the ultimate price

Elijah Lovejoy was an anti-slavery newspaper publisher in St. Charles, Missouri about two decades before the Civil War. When his printing press was attacked by slavery advocates, he fled across the river to Alton and continued publishing there. But in Alton he was killed by a pro-slavery mob while defending his press. At the turn of the century, over six decades after his death, people in Alton still remembered and built a monument to his honor.

Of course, young Cadence could hardly understand the significance of it all, having so far heard only a little in school about something called slavery. But kids love stories so we briefly told her the tale of Lovejoy’s brave stand. We talked about the importance of valuing all people and having the courage, like Lovejoy, to stand up for what is true and right.

Though young, we reasoned “a picture’s worth a thousand words” and in future years Cadence would vaguely remember the simple trek across the river with Mimi & Pa Pa, the image of the imposing monument with the huge winged figure on top, and perhaps something of the lessons involved.

We thought that when she was older and could reason more deeply–perhaps when in high school--we’d visit a very different monument. About the same time the Lovejoy memorial was established, the Daughters of the Confederacy erected a monument in an obscure corner of St. Louis’ Forest Park. Dedicated to the memory of the Confederacy, it was not nearly as tall as the Lovejoy monument but still quite refined and impressive.

We would eventually take a maturing Cadence there as a visual study in contrasts. We could talk about the impressive artistry of the Confederate monument and the natural pride of place and culture it beautifully depicts.

But we would also point out the subtle danger in such pride—the danger that, for love of home & culture, any of us can conveniently overlook the dark tendencies lurking within that culture.

Maladies such as racism, ethnic prejudice, greed and exploitation—along with the human tendency to rationalize such things--transcend time, place and culture. Most significantly, trappings of such things can likely be found in every individual heart, given sufficient personal reflection.

Those of Judeo-Christian faith and perspective are compelled to such reflection. Jesus cautioned that darkness is not to be primarily identified “over there”--in others--but rather that out of one’s own heart proceed evil. Consequently, he compels us to examine ourselves and to “first remove the plank in your own eye.” The Old Testament similarly cautions, “Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.”

We anticipated that at the proper time the Confederate monument in Forest Park would provide an effective visual object lesson for reflective soul-searching for Cadence and, eventually, for each or our grandchildren.

Such monuments understandably challenge the sensibilities of many today, particularly African Americans.

Recently I had lunch with an African American friend. He said he initially supported the removal of Confederate monuments. But then he had conversation with a man from the U.K. “In Europe we have many monuments stretching over the centuries, touching on many bad things," the European said. "We use them to remember and learn. You Americans scrub your history.” Upon reflection, my friend told me, “I’ve changed my mind about removing these monuments.”

He’s not alone. Polls commissioned by National Public Radio show that 44% of African Americans think Confederate monuments should stay in place as historical markers. A smaller minority (40%) want them removed and 11% aren’t sure.

It would seem that if our culture progresses in terms of racial attitudes, it will not be the result of coercively scrubbing our history. Rather it will be because we, as individuals, have owned up to the dark aspects of our complex history and have searched our own hearts in light of historical lessons to be learned.

Perhaps monuments of the Confederacy could serve both a historic and progressive purpose if they continue to stand, but with the addition of contextualizing plaques referencing both the evil of slavery and the current controversy surrounding such monuments. In coming decades such plaques would themselves stand on a par with the original monuments as historic markers of our humanly flawed, but ongoing, struggle to embrace America’s ideals.

Unfortunately, our anticipated trip of self-exploration with Cadence to the Confederate monument will never happen. Political officials chose to sanitize the site, dismantling the monument with the proviso that it never again appear in St. Louis City or County.

A picture’s worth a thousand words. We had hoped the Confederate monument would one day serve as a visual object lesson, helping a maturing Cadence to reflect… to soul-search… to deeply think for herself.

But some apparently consider that unnecessary. They have already, it seems, done all the thinking for her.

Matthew 15:19 Matthew 7:5 Proverbs 4:23

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