I met Karl Gaspar in January. We were both in Geneva for the dialogue between First and Third World theologians which I wrote about in this column a few months ago.
Columns
Only 13 times in 30 years has a U. S. president called a joint session of Congress.
When former President Jimmy Carter first proposed the MX missile system in 1979, it consisted of 200 missiles with ten warheads each that would be shuttled among several hundred shelters along a huge racetrack in the Utah desert.
From April 20 to 24 I participated in the Christian World Conference on Life and Peace in Uppsala, Sweden, where I was one of 133 delegates from 60 countries.
On May 1, 1933, in the depths of the Great Depression, the first copies of the Catholic Worker were sold (for a penny a copy, of course) at a May Day demonstration in Lower Manhattan's Union Square.
Three years ago at our Annual Weekend After Groundhog's Day Sojourners Community Talent Show, one of our households portrayed a modern version of the parable of the Good Samaritan.
Like many of you, I suppose, many of us at Sojourners gathered around the television for the last episode of M*A*S*H.
Some months ago I received a call from a reporter for one of the nation's largest news magazines. The magazine was doing a cover story on the growing response to the nuclear threat.
In the pages of Sojourners we often speak of the awakening that is occurring in many sectors of the church's life.
Although the sun had been up for more than an hour, the early morning April air remained chilly.
The letter of invitation was to "A Dialogue Between First and Third World Theologians." I had sworn off most conferences some years ago, but this one looked promising.
"Good afternoon! Welcome to the second annual Southern Columbia Heights Tenants Union (SCHTU) Neighborhood Congress. Today is an important day in the life of our tenants union. We will elect our new officers, celebrate our victories--and they have been many--and set the agenda for the issues and problems we will take on in the coming year."
In the late fall of 1982 we gathered at Kirkridge, a retreat center in the Pocono Mountains of Pennsylvania.
The 97th Congress ended the last days of 1982 with an absurd flurry of filibusters, marathon sessions, and last-minute deal-making.
After Nov. 2 no one, not even its opponents, could deny that the nuclear freeze campaign had become a genuinely grassroots and enormously popular social movement in this country.
In this issue of Sojourners, we have reprinted Martin Luther King Jr.'s 1967 speech "Beyond Vietnam" and Vincent Harding's reflections on its significance today.