On Endings. On Beginnings.

I have completed my third year of seminary.

Photo by José León on Unsplash

May 5, 2026

I have completed my third year of seminary. I continue to maintain that I am an “accidental seminarian.” Not in my wildest dreams would I ever have thought I’d be in school, studying theology, at the age of 63. It is truly a dream come true while simultaneously completely unexpected. Although, looking at the trajectory of my life, it may have been inevitable.

Two of my best friends in the program, whom I met in August 2023 at orientation in Fort Worth, are graduating. One is going on for her doctorate at Vanderbilt. The other is working towards ordination in the Anglican Church. I love them dearly. I will miss having them in this program with me most profoundly. I am sad for me, and thrilled for them. But I am sad. Bottom line. I am sad. This is an ending of sorts, although I have another year of school. This time of transition hammers home the fact that resistance to change is futile; change is the only constant in life. And also, that there are people who come into my life in unexpected ways who have a profound impact on my thinking, my spiritual healing, and my perpetual transformation. How precious are those connections. I must nurture and keep them.

This is my final for my Howard Thurman Spirituality class. It’s a bit dry, but after reading it, you will have a solid understanding of Thurman’s role in the development of the spiritual foundation for the Civil Rights Movement.

Backs Against the Wall: The Howard Thurman Story

**Backs Against the Wall: The Howard Thurman Story** is a 2019 documentary directed by Martin Doblmeier that examines the life, theology, and public influence of Howard Thurman, especially his significance for the Civil Rights Movement. The film opens with Thurman’s grandmother, who had been enslaved, and demonstrates how her life shaped his understanding of dignity, faith, and resilience. From there, the documentary traces Thurman’s education, ministry, pivotal meeting with Gandhi, and later support for Civil Rights leaders. The film presents Thurman not simply as a pastor and theologian, but as a major figure in the development of the spiritual foundation of the Civil Rights Movement.

One of the documentary’s strengths is its careful attention to the development of Thurman’s nonviolent theology. His encounter with the Quaker mystic and theologian, Rufus Jones, played an important role in that process. After discovering Jones’s work, Thurman enrolled at Haverford College in 1929 to study under him. His subsequent involvement with the pacifist organization, the Fellowship of Reconciliation, further strengthened his commitment to nonviolent resistance. Another decisive moment came in 1936, when Thurman became the first Black American to meet Gandhi in India. Gandhi’s prediction that nonviolent resistance would spread globally through the Black experience in America deepened Thurman’s commitment to this vision and linked his theological formation to a broader international struggle against oppression. The film handles these developments by showing that Thurman’s theology emerged through study, spiritual reflection, and direct engagement with global movements for justice.

The documentary presents a compelling case that Thurman was pivotal in the formation of the spiritual foundation of the Civil Rights Movement. Through interviews with Jesse Jackson, John Lewis, Vernon Jordan, and Otis Moss, the film illustrates the extent to which Thurman’s thought influenced generations of activists. John Lewis refers to Thurman as the “patron saint” of the movement, while the others emphasize his role in bringing faith, nonviolence, and justice into a coherent moral vision. These accounts show that Thurman’s influence was not merely intellectual or devotional, but also practical. His theology was key in providing the movement with a language of courage, discipline, and spiritual endurance. The film showcases how Thurman’s contribution to the Civil Rights Movement was foundational, even if it often remained behind the scenes.

The documentary’s treatment of Jesus and the Disinherited is especially significant. In that work, Thurman presents Jesus as a model for the oppressed and contends that authentic transformation begins within, where personal dignity and courage become essential resources for confronting racism and injustice. At the same time, he insists that faith is lived out in community. His theology of “love that casts out fear” expresses this vision with particular clarity and becomes one of the film’s most important interpretive lenses. Doblmeier shows that Thurman’s thought was never merely abstract or private. Rather, it offered a spiritual framework through which oppressed communities could confront fear, resist hatred, and refuse to surrender their humanity.

Doblmeier uses the metaphor “backs against the wall” as the film’s central interpretive lens. Drawn from Thurman’s own question, “What does the religion of Jesus say to a man whose back is against the wall?” the phrase gives the film a sustained focus on suffering, endurance, and hope in the face of oppression. The use of archival footage, interviews, and Thurman’s own words gives the documentary both emotional depth and historical grounding. Rather than presenting Thurman as an elite intellectual, the film portrays him as a mystic, pastor, and theologian whose faith had direct and profound social consequences. This framing is effective because it integrates the contemplative and public dimensions of Thurman’s life without minimizing either.

What is most compelling is the way in which the film connects Thurman’s early life to the later influence and significance of his theology and his work. The scenes depicting his grandmother, and his communion with the mighty oak tree in the backyard of his childhood home, are especially effective. They reveal the roots of his sense of self-worth, spiritual depth, and mystical awareness. The documentary makes clear that Thurman’s vision of nonviolence emerged from both lived experience and theological conviction. The mentors with whom he studied, his work with the Fellowship of Reconciliation, his meeting with Gandhi, his ministry at the Church for the Fellowship of All Peoples, and his influence on Civil Rights leaders all converge around the same central insight: Thurman helped shape the moral and spiritual framework of the movement. For those reasons, the documentary is successful not only as a biographical narrative, but also as an interpretation of Thurman’s enduring importance for conversations about faith, justice, and resistance.

My critique is supported by Thurman’s own writings as well as by the work of Thurman scholars. In Jesus and the Disinherited, Thurman presents Jesus as a model for the oppressed. He emphatically contends that inner spiritual transformation is essential to fostering enduring social change. His emphasis on spiritual discipline, nonviolence, and “love that casts out fear,” helps explain why his work is so often considered the undergirding of the spiritual foundation of the Civil Rights Movement. Scholars at Boston University note that Thurman quietly advised Civil Rights leaders while contributing to the spiritual basis of the Black freedom struggle. These scholarly assessments reinforce the documentary’s central claim that Thurman’s influence, while often indirect and not publically visible, was nevertheless profound.

Thurman’s broader body of work confirms this interpretation. In Disciplines of the Spirit, he argues that spiritual growth requires inner reconciliation and a refusal of retaliation, showing that nonviolence begins within the self before it becomes an effective tool for social transformation. In his 1963 lecture “Non-Violence and the Art of Reconciliation,” Thurman describes nonviolence as a disciplined means of awakening conscience and transforming oppressive systems, reinforcing his position that nonviolence is both spiritual and practical in its application. Across his sermons and teachings, he repeatedly identifies fear as one of the deepest barriers to freedom, and returns to his conviction, again and again, that love and spiritual discipline are the most powerful antidotes to hatred and oppression. Together, these works substantiate the film’s portrayal of Thurman as a theologian whose mystical spirituality and ethical commitments helped prepare the way for the success of the Civil Rights Movement.

Thurman’s theology remains relevant because it links inner spiritual discipline to public resistance. His insistence that fear, hatred, and resentment negatively effect both the oppressed and the oppressor, offers a framework for confronting political power without surrendering moral clarity. Current pro-democracy movements that emphasize nonviolent protest, and a refusal to mirror the violence of those in leadership exhibiting an abuse of power, are able to continue to draw on Thurman’s vision of “love that casts out fear.” His work supports the position that resistance is most effective when it is rooted in dignity, courage, and a disciplined commitment to community rather than outrage alone.

That insight helps explain why Thurman continues to speak to current nonviolent movements, including contemporary protest efforts and broader anti-authoritarian sentiment. Whether in marches, public demonstrations, or organized civic dissent, his theology encourages people to resist injustice without allowing fear or hatred to define their response. Thurman would likely push such movements toward spiritual depth, moral restraint, and a clear commitment to the humanity of others, even in the face of political hostility. Consequently, Thurman’s legacy remains not only historical but practical, offering a vision of resistance that is both principled and humane.

Thank you so much for teaching this course. Although I continue to struggle with hopelessness in the face of our current political environment, Thurman’s work provides me a vital tool in combatting that hopelessness. I have faith in the assertion that the moral arc of the universe bends towards justice, although I am acutely aware that that moral arc is long. I accept I may not see a return to the gains we had achieved as a nation following the 1960s during my lifetime, but hold to the faint hope that at some point in the future, we surely will.