A Reflection on Our Times

Some people refer to this as the “Golden Age.” They highlight record-breaking markets, showcase impressive technologies, and celebrate an economy that seems to favor them. However, for many working families and those pushed to society’s edges, this period feels more like a tarnished gold.

Mark Twain once cautioned against what he termed “Golden Age,” suggesting that the glimmer often distracts from deeper issues. He observed, “It’s a glittering surface, but it’s corrupted beneath it.” That seems fitting now—everything looks shaky, with decay lurking underneath.

This moment is more than just a shiny era; it feels almost elegant in its complexity.

We seem to have traded dignity for domination, and humility for humiliation. In our culture, kindness is often dismissed as a weakness, while cruelty is hailed as strength. From Washington to Montgomery, too many people have become submissive figures, bowing to bullies rather than standing tall.

We aren’t living in fearless times. Instead, we find ourselves among outlaws, where accountability is an option primarily for the powerful, leaving others powerless. Laws are bent to enforce control rather than to uphold justice. What’s more concerning is that this fraudulent behavior is not just happening in the shadows; it’s being capitalized and used against us.

Yet, grace—true grace—doesn’t whisper timidly; it stands firm in the face of adversity. It can shake foundations when it is paired with courage.

Take Gandhi’s 1930 march to the sea to defy the British salt monopoly. The act of collecting salt was revolutionary, and the punishment for this peaceful resistance was harsh. At the Darasana Saltworks, British forces violently suppressed the demonstrators. An American journalist, Webb Miller, reported on it, shaming the empire on a global stage.

In Alabama, 1963 brought peaceful protesters to Birmingham, facing fire hoses, police dogs, and batons. The images were haunting; they conveyed a raw reality that could no longer be ignored.

Then came Selma, with John Lewis and Hosea Williams leading marchers across the Edmund Pettus Bridge, facing violent opposition. Once again, the brutality was captured on camera, forcing America to confront its truths.

President Lyndon B. Johnson knew the political costs when he signed the Civil Rights Act of 1964—but he did it anyway.

That was an act of bravery rooted in moral clarity, not in political expediency.

And that’s what seems to be missing today.

We are led by individuals who speak lofty rhetoric while serving only their self-interests. They appeal to our base instincts, positioning truth as a threat and decency as a burden.

What they’ve overlooked is this: tyranny doesn’t last. History shows that oppressors may rise, but they inevitably fall. Natural justice has a way of emerging, and people often rise against injustice. They do so quietly, passionately—in protest and prayer. They stand for dignity, not merely for power. When enough individuals unite, significant change can unfold, even against the strongest foes.

Indeed, we are living in an age of grace.

Yet, grace is alive. It thrives whenever someone prioritizes truth over ease, justice over comfort, and collective good above self-interest. It exists in those who refuse to lie; it flourishes in civic-minded individuals who vote with their conscience.

We need to recall what it means to transcend our legacies.

When Johnson signed the Civil Rights Act, he was raised not in a progressive environment but as a white Southern individual during segregation. He could have easily upheld the status quo, but instead, he chose honesty and courage.

So, what do we need today? Courage like that.

Mark Twain once remarked, “Do the right thing. It will satisfy some people and surprise the rest.”

Let’s aim to surprise them.

We must become individuals who reclaim grace—not passive bystanders but active participants. Let’s embrace the kind of truth that can cross bridges burnt by others.

Choose courage over convenience. Reject the politics of fear for the promise of dignity, and engage in the struggle.

The greatness of this country and state isn’t rooted in gold or power; it’s found in goodness. It’s realized when people rise up to do what is right, despite what they were taught or expected.

That renewal of goodness begins with us now.