The physical and psychological horrors of this, the greatest relocation, enforced and cruel, of human beings in the history of the world, are beyond imagination for us. 1807, for all its limitations, marked a decisive step in the redemption of human degradation. There has been a proper concern, however, during this anniversary, that it not become a self-congratulatory affair.

Not only was the entire process of abolition, of which 1807 was only a moment (however significant) fraught with deep moral ambiguities. But we are bound to remain alert to the ongoing realities of evil within our world, that continues to include the practice of human slavery even, not only figural, but literal, ranging across continents from Asia to America and Europe, with Africa in between. We can celebrate the birthing 200 years ago of a more robust moral awareness; but it is our solemn and continuing duty to apply in our own day.

It is just this duty, and its need for the present, that should move us to reflect on what led to the abolition of the Atlantic slave-trade in the first place. For, as we know, it did not take place by accident, but depended on the tireless and exhausting efforts of individuals and organized groups. Yet it is also the case that the abolition did not come about by sheer force of will, either. Such will and such organizing had been done before and elsewhere, without the same results. Dare we admit that something divine was also at work? Divine, yet bound to the shapes and forms of human responsibility?

There are various theories which seek to answer the question, "whence abolition?," many initiated by the work of my regional compatriot Eric Williams, historian and statesman from Trinidad and Tobago. Williams broke new ground in the 1940's when he argued that capitalistic self-interest spurred the abolitionist movement in Britain especially, as the Industrial Revolution, initially fueled by the profits of slave-labor in the West Indies, overtook the value produced by plantation labor. Slaves simply weren't needed any more to make money. Williams' views are much debated, and there is now a strong consensus among scholars that in fact the movement and achievement of abolition took place just at the height of the West Indian slave economy's profitability. If anything, abolition sent the West Indian economy into a tailspin.

But if Williams' general claim was wrong, what other explanations are there for the rise and success of British abolitionism? The earlier claim that Christian religious, and especially evangelical motives drove the movement, is still made. Likewise, there has been much study of the peculiar role within this matter of liberal democratic debate and the growing enfranchisement of British subjects in England. But neither of these two elements alone or even together can supply an answer to the question, "whence abolition?", since both existed in the American colonies and United Sates, without encouraging anything like the same abolitionist force.

Let me suggest a third aspect, a condition that needed to be added to the others: that of distance, an engaged distance to be sure, but nonetheless a distance and difference in space that separated the British Christian and democrat from the horrors of slavery on the side of the Atlantic, a distance that let flourish the benefits of both the Christian Gospel and liberal political debate upon the reality of sin and suffering that slavery embodied. It was distance which permitted the fear at slave insurrections, such as Haiti's, to be thought through more reflectively; it was distance that allowed the evangelical valuation of human dignity and freedom, as well as the liberal tradition of political liberty to find their place and exercise their power. The awful reality in the United States, by contrast, was that Americans - Christians and liberal democrats both - were too close, too entwined, to blinkered by their own linkage with evil in the midst of evil. The flourishing of illicit slave traders in the West Indies well after 1807, some of them people of color themselves - like Eric Williams' own ancestors! - shows how corrupting an environment of evil can be to those raised within its grasp. And this clearly does say something to us here and now. It is Jesus himself who tells the morally "blind" Pharisees, "now that you say, 'We see', your sin remains" (John. 9:41).

And what are we blind to? We must first of all never downplay the glorious emancipatory reality of Jesus Christ. The impact upon abolition across the centuries of the Christian Gospel's teaching has undoubtedly been essential, even foundational. Jesus' Jubilee vocation for the "liberation of the captives" (Lk. 4:18), was an articulation of a deep Scriptural calling for all God's people, based upon the Moses' Law in Leviticus 25, which itself is but a witness to the yet more fundamental reality of God as our Deliverer. Paul's teaching on Jesus Christ's renewal of the created image of man makes this explicit in a historical sense. For according to this recreated image (2 Cor. 3:18; 1 Cor. 15:49, Jn. 3:2, etc.), there is "neither slave nor free" (Gal. 3:28), but rather now the slave is a "brother" to the former master (Philemon 16). The Bible as a whole ends with a chilling claim, made amidst the rubble of a destroyed civilization, that slaves are nothing else than "human souls", true persons degraded by the evil, greed, and idolatry of others (Rev. 18:13), for which the punishment of God comes down upon a fallen Babylon.

Yes, it was a slow movement. This Gospel challenged its surrounding culture only bit by bit. But the movement was steady, through theological reflection, the witness of conversion and benevolence, and finally the sheer grace of God opening the eyes of Christ's followers. This Gospel led to a concatenation of laws mitigating and finally abolishing slavery within the Church's boundaries of influence, and although serfdom took the economic place of slavery to an extent, as an institution slavery disappeared.

The 18th century called out this special Christian teaching with a new vigor. Secular science was beginning to move in the direction of objectifying human beings in novel ways, and racial or biological theories of inferiority make their appearance with shocking acceptance. In the face of this, the peculiar claims of Christ's Church were re-asserted with a clarity and challenge that still remain relevant: because of the reality of God as Creator, humankind is one in value; because of the reality of God as lawgiver, there are universal limits on human power, especially power exercised over other human beings; because of the reality of God as a loving and self-sacrificing Person, avarice stands contrary to the will of God, and the nurturing of benevolence for its own sake in fact draws us closer to God.

Second, we must not be blind to the fundamental Christian motive to the discovery and sustenance of democratic freedoms and human rights. This is crucial, and we dare not surrender these truths wholesale to the secular political culture . Certainly, the press for these freedoms and rights were not always part of a Christian program; and they were often opposed by Christians. But it was no coincidence that opposition to slavery in 17th century Britain appeared first among the Christian sectarians of radical Puritan commitment. And many of their own views were molded by more general Christian notions of personhood, dignity, and law. These flourished in Anglo- America especially, but also in France to a greater extent than is realized. And this was largely because these ideas derived from a Scriptural reality whose force had seeped into the consciousness of an increasingly liberal political state.

But the final critical element to which we must especially open our minds today - that element tied to the gift of distance I have spoken of - is the element of Christian accountability - the perspective of the whole, and our greatest need in an era and culture of pluralistic fragmentation. Abolition took over a century to achieve, and it demanded the international engagement of many players. It involved local organizing in small towns, lobbying in capitals, the maneuverings of political legislation, diplomacy, bribery, and finally the imposition of force, on the high seas, through naval blockades, and even war. The great moral cry of the Church to the world has been, "you must be accountable", to God, and to your neighbor. The pertinent symbolism involved in the recent Primates' Meeting in Dar es Salaam, was therefore not simply tied to the eucharist we held at the former slave market in Zanzibar; it was not simply about the slave trade. The symbolism of our meeting was more deeply tied to the time and place in which we all live, and the challenge we all face as Anglicans: saving a Communion in a posture of accountability that can indeed hold us open to the truth and its solemn demands.

In the 18th and 19th centuries, the British needed the terrible reality of the West Indian slave trade thrust upon their consciousness, for the sake, if you will, of their own moral and political conversion. The Americans needed the British and that conversion holding up a mirror to their sins and for the sake of their souls. The people of West Indies - enslaved and freed alike - needed the conversion of their masters and tutors for the sake of their very lives. And this interplay carries on across the last two centuries and around the globe. We need each other for the sake of truth and admonition, for the sake of repentance and conversion. For the sake of God's life shared with us in Christ. One of the great words in the New Testament is a simple Greek accusative adjective: "one another" (allelous). Love "one another" (Jn. 13:34). Admonish "one another" (Rom. 15:14). Encourage and teach one another (Rom. 14:19). Submit to one another (Eph. 5:21). Care for one another (1 Cor. 12:25). Be of one accord with one another (Rom. 12:16). Confess your sins to one another (James 5:16). This word, "one another", implies space and distinction, implies the fact that we are more than one, that we face each other in our distance and relations, not that these are goods in themselves, but for a purpose: that such "one-another-ness" is the means by which we are all held accountable in the Lord Jesus Christ.

And so St. Paul spurs on the Corinthians to fulfill their responsibility in helping the "saints" in Jerusalem by lifting up the example of the Macedonians (cf. 2 Cor. 8f; Gal. 2:10): you are responsible for one another, and you must hold each other accountable! So he also spurs on the Gentiles to a life of humble faith and integrity, by giving them the challenge to make Israel "jealous" (Rom. 11:11): you are responsible for them, and each of you accountable to each other! In all, Paul exclaims, "Outdo one another in well-doing" (Rom. 12:10; cf. Heb. 10:24).

The year 2007, then, is a gift from God to us: a gift to provoke our gratitude for the witness and efforts of others; a gift to provoke our repentance and sorrow at the sins and sufferings our ancestors have caused and received, and that we ourselves continue to perpetuate in different ways; a gift to provoke our vocation to fulfill the Christian imperative of life in the Body, accountable, sustaining, and self-giving for the life of the world. May the Lord continue to open our eyes.

http://www.anglican-mainstream.net/?p=1501

---Archbishop Drexel Gomez is Archbishop of the West Indies