The Alton Observer.

In 1836, a judge by the name of Lawless looked the newspaper-man in the eyes and said to him: "Your newspaper was the reason that this man died."

But Rev. Elijah P. Lovejoy did not stand down. You see, he was the owner and principle author of a little newspaper known as the St. Louis Observer, and he had dedicated a large portion of his life and his time to writing about the evils of slavery and the wickedness of racial hatred. By 1836, his printing press had been destroyed three times.

In that year, a free black man named Francis McIntosh was burned to death by a mob. Rev. Lovejoy attended the grand jury proceedings, decrying the manner of McIntosh's death. Judge Lawless blamed the Observer for the lynch mob.

In 1837, Rev. Lovejoy relocated to the city of Alton, right across the River. On November 7th of that year, his printing press was assailed and thrown into the River, and Rev. Lovejoy was murdered by a mob.

Rev. Lovejoy is a powerful symbol for me. I live in the City of Alton, and I too am a Christian and a writer. When I hear about Rev. Lovejoy's testimony before Judge Lawless, his consistency in standing for slave's rights, and his martyred death, I feel a strength to speak using that same prophetic voice.

Rev. Lovejoy was an abolitionist not because he was politically-motivated or because he wanted votes or popularity -- he was an abolitionist because he was convinced by the Gospel that all men were created equal and free, and he was empowered by God's Spirit to be a voice for the voiceless. He declared: "If the laws of my country fail to protect me I appeal to God, and with him I cheerfully rest my cause. I can die at my post but I cannot desert it."

Right now, Rev. Lovejoy is on my mind on a daily basis. Across the River, in the small St. Louis suburb of Ferguson, there is violent unrest and turmoil following the non-indictment of police officer Darren Wilson. And I've been finding myself asking one major question: "How would Brother Lovejoy have responded?"

There's a bit about Francis McIntosh that I didn't share earlier: he was a bad man. Lovejoy himself said of this man: "...a hardened wretch certainly, and one that deserved to die —but not thus to die." McIntosh had interrupted the arrest of two rowdy sailors by two police officers, and he wounded and killed those officers. But Lovejoy defended him because it was wrong for him to have died in the manner that he died: by lynch-mob and without a trial.

In the spirit of Rev. Lovejoy, I look across the Clark Bridge to St. Louis. In Ferguson last August, an unarmed black teen was shot and killed by a white police officer. No matter how you mince things, Mike Brown did not have a weapon, and he had never killed a man. Yet he was shot multiple times and left dead on the street for 4 hours.

We could probably have a conversation about Mike Brown posing a danger to Darren Wilson, about the theft from the convenience store, &c. &c. ... ... But my point (in this blog post) is that no matter how we look at this situation, Mike Brown was not a murderer and he was not armed. Brother Lovejoy defended McIntosh, an armed murderer, because it was wrong for him to have died the way that he died.

I've talked before about this case, but here I want to share another spin: Is it ever right for a man to be killed without trial? And if Lovejoy was willing to put his reputation on the line for, again, a bad man who died in a wicked way, then how much more so should the modern Christian (and the modern Christian writer!) speak out and cry out for Justice for an unarmed teen who died in an unlawful way.

I can see the Arch from my house, through the beams of the Clark Bridge. I can also see the Lovejoy Monument, which is just a few blocks from where I live. How can I not ask for Justice for the oppressed? How can I not cry out for Truth in this world of lies? How can I not say, as I have said before: "This is not right."

If I do not speak, the blood on the ground in Ferguson would cry out against me. If I do not speak, the blood of righteous Lovejoy would cry out against me. That is why I have been so vocal, and that is why I cannot be quiet on this matter.