[Congressional Record Volume 148, Number 10 (Friday, February 8, 2002)]
[Senate]
[Pages S537-S540]
From the Congressional Record Online through the Government Publishing Office [www.gpo.gov]




                                 FAITH

  Mr. BYRD. Mr. President, yesterday the President spoke at the 
National Prayer Breakfast. Let me just quote a few excerpts from the 
President's remarks. This is what he said. He said more, of course, but 
these are four paragraphs that I will excerpt from the totality of the 
remarks.
  The President said:

       Since we met last year, millions of Americans have been led 
     to prayer. They have prayed for comfort in time of grief; for 
     understanding in a time of anger; for protection in a time of 
     uncertainty. Many, including me, have been on bended knee. 
     The prayers of this nation are a part of the good that has 
     come from the evil of September the 11th, more good than we 
     could ever have predicted. Tragedy has brought forth the 
     courage and the generosity of our people.
       None of us would ever wish on anyone what happened on that 
     day. Yet, as with each life, sorrows we would not choose can 
     bring wisdom and strength gained in no other way. This 
     insight is central to many faiths, and certainly to faith 
     that finds hope and comfort in a cross.
       Every religion is welcomed in our country; all are 
     practiced here. Many of our good citizens profess no religion 
     at all. Our country has never had an official faith. Yet we 
     have all been witnesses these past 21 weeks to the power of 
     faith to see us through the hurt and loss that has come to 
     our country.
       Faith gives the assurance that our lives and our history 
     have a moral design. As individuals, we know that suffering 
     is temporary, and hope is eternal. As a nation, we know that 
     the ruthless will not inherit the Earth. Faith teaches 
     humility, and with it, tolerance. Once we have recognized 
     God's image in ourselves, we must recognize it in every human 
     being.

  Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the entire speech by 
President Bush be printed in the Record at the close of my remarks.

[[Page S538]]

  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.
  (See exhibit 1.)
  Mr. BYRD. Mr. President, I will differ with President Bush in many 
things, and in many ways; and I suppose practically every Senator here 
will at some point differ with the President in regard to something. On 
his faith-based initiative, I may differ with him. But I am glad that 
the President took time in his busy day to make these remarks at the 
National Prayer Breakfast. I am glad to hear him utter the name of 
God--the person in our country who is at the apex of the executive 
branch of Government, pausing in his day to recognize a higher power 
than that of the Chief Executive of this country. The Chief Magistrate 
of our Nation spoke of God and spoke of having been on bended knee.
  Mr. President, remarks such as these have become all too rare, even 
in this country, when uttered by a high Government official who is 
elected--not directly, but indirectly, at least --by the people of the 
United States.
  So I respect President Bush for his humility, for his willingness to 
call upon God, to express a faith, to express a strength that can only 
come from calling upon the Creator of us all. It is unfortunate, but 
these are times when few men and women, relatively speaking, it seems 
to me, recognize God in their lives and in the life of the Nation. 
``Blessed is the nation whose God is the Lord.''
  I am almost an antique around these precincts in our Capitol. I 
suppose one might say I am almost a neanderthal, having lived 84 years. 
I come from a background in which God was a major factor in my life.
  When I was a little boy living in the ``sticks'' in southern West 
Virginia, in Mercer County, impressed upon my young mind was a belief 
in a Higher Power. The Bible was the one book in my humble household--
the Bible--the King James version of the Bible. The woman who raised me 
was my aunt. Her husband was my uncle by virtue of their marriage. Many 
times, when I was a child living in Mercer County, I would hear her 
pray after we had turned out the kerosene lamps. I would hear her 
praying in the other room. Even after I had grown to manhood and was a 
Member of Congress and would go back to West Virginia on the weekends, 
or during a recess, always when I started back to Washington, she would 
say, ``Robert, you be a good boy. I always pray for you.''
  Many times, I have gone back to those coal fields and knocked on her 
door at night, at 2 o'clock in the morning, 3 o'clock in the morning, 
after having driven across mountain roads from Washington. She would 
always get up and unlock the door. Sometimes I would go up on the porch 
and see her on her knees praying. Many times, she would get out of bed 
and unlock the door and let me in the house and offer to fix a meal for 
me at 1 or 2 o'clock in the morning. And then, when I would go to bed, 
and the lights were all out, I would hear her prayers coming from 
another room. I knew she was on her knees.
  So, the President spoke of having been on his knees at times, and 
that our Nation during these trying days has found comfort in its 
suffering by being on its knees. People are turning back to the church. 
I remember that woman as she prayed on her knees. And I remember him, 
her husband. I knew no other father than he. He was the only man I ever 
knew as my father--except for one occasion when I was in high school, 
my senior year, when he and I caught a Greyhound bus and traveled back 
to North Carolina where I did meet my biological father and spent about 
a week in his home. But that coal miner who raised me, and whom I 
called my dad, was likewise a religious man.
  These two wonderful old people, this couple who raised me, didn't go 
around wearing their religion on their sleeve and making a big whoop-
de-do about it; they didn't claim to be good, as the Bible says that no 
man is good. They didn't belong to the Christian right or the Christian 
left, or Christian middle, or whatever it was. They had that King James 
Bible in their home. They lived their religion. They didn't look down 
upon any man and they didn't look up to any man--except they looked up 
to God. So they brought me up like that and taught me like that.
  Now, I will say this: Regardless of how far one may stray from the 
right path, if he has had this basic faith drilled into him from the 
beginning by parents who reared him and taught him how to live, he may 
stray away from those lessons, but he will come back.
  We all err and fall short of the glory of God. It just touches my 
heart and makes me feel good that the Chief Magistrate of our country 
talks about getting on his knees. So I say while I may differ, and will 
differ from President Bush, I will also respect him and respect his 
humility, his basic faith exemplified by what he is saying in this 
instance, exemplified by his indicating that a nation advances when it 
advances on its knees. Once when my wife and I dined at the White House 
with Mr. Bush as President--that is and may be the only time we will 
ever have the privilege of dining there--but upon that occasion 
President Bush said grace at the table before we ate. He did not call 
on me to say grace. He said it himself. He was, I am sure, not 
attempting to impress us with his faith but he was practicing it. 
Nobody was there other than Ted Stevens, his wife, my wife, me and the 
President.
  So, yes, we will differ on President Bush's budget--we will disagree 
mightily on that--but when it is all said and done I have to remember 
that here is a man who preaches and practices, as far as I have seen, 
his faith.
  ``Except the Lord build the house, they labor in vain that build it. 
Except the Lord keep the city, the watchman waketh but in vain.''
  I hope we will never become so mighty, so wrapped up in ourselves 
individually, so subordinated to the tenets of partisan political 
parties, that we fail to acknowledge God. After all, when it comes down 
to the last mile of the way, the last hour of my days, if I have a 
clear mind at that point I will not be thinking about the Democratic 
Party. I will not be reciting the tenets, the principles, of the 
Democratic Party. Politcal party in that moment will mean nothing to 
me. Instead, I will be wondering, how will it be with my soul when I 
have to meet God face-to-face.
  Now perhaps I did not think so much about these things when I was 24 
or when I was 34, but 50 years later at the age of 84, I am drawn to 
think about these things. No, the party platform will not be worth much 
to me in that hour. Nor will it be to you or to you, but that moment is 
coming. For some of us, it will be all too soon. We know not when. It 
comes to us all. It comes to Presidents. It comes to Kings. It comes to 
Governors. It comes to Senators. It comes to coal miners, to farmers, 
to schoolteachers, to lawyers, but it comes.
  I salute President Bush for his remarks. I hope he will continue to 
call upon his Maker in his search for strength and comfort.
  I lost a grandson 20 years ago this year. For a long time thereafter, 
I walked in a deep valley. I sought everywhere for strength. I went to 
see the coroner. I went to see the State policeman who was there and 
saw my grandson's body removed from the truck that had crashed and then 
caught fire. I went to see the volunteer fire department that was 
nearby. Again and again I went to these same people. I was searching, 
trying to persuade myself that my grandson had not suffered. I found 
the greatest of comfort when I felt that my grandson was aware of my 
grief--that he knew about my grief, and that I have the promise in 
God's Word that I can see Michael again.
  There may come a time in the young lives of these high school juniors 
who are here as pages, when they, too, will find succor and comfort 
only in God's Word, feeling that, yes, He is here, He knows about their 
grief.
  I will refer to one other time in my life. I was much younger than 
84, much younger than I was in 1982 when I lost my grandson. This was 
back in 1945, during the Second World War. I had been a welder in 
Baltimore for a year and a half working on ``Victory'' ships and 
``Liberty'' ships. I decided to take my wife and two daughters and go 
south to Florida the next winter rather than remain in Baltimore 
shipyards where the cold winds came across the bay, as we were on the 
decks of the ships welding that cold steel. I was in Crab Orchard, WV, 
in southern West Virginia, visiting with my uncle and aunt who had 
raised me and I dreamed

[[Page S539]]

that Mr. Byrd, the man whom I had always recognized as my dad, had 
died.
  The very next day I received a telegram from my brother--who is still 
living; he is 88, a little older than I, still living in North 
Wilkesboro, NC--saying to me that my biological father, Mr. Cornelius 
Calvin Sale, had died. After having dreamed that my adopted father had 
died, the very next day I received a telegram saying that my natural 
father had died.
  Mr. Byrd and I caught a Greyhound bus and we traveled to North 
Carolina. I attended the funeral of my father, Mr. Sale. From there, I 
left alone to go to Florida to get a job there, if I could, as a 
welder, building ships. I traveled all night on a bus. I took a welding 
test the next morning in Jacksonville in a shipyard. I failed the test. 
Having been up all night, I didn't have a steady hand, perhaps. I 
failed that test.
  I asked: Where else are they testing and hiring welders here in 
Florida? I was told to go over on the west side of Florida on the side 
of the gulf. I was told that they were hiring welders in Tampa. So 
across Florida I started again on a bus. When I reached Lakeland, late 
in the day, I got off the bus and I went into a little grocery store 
and bought a stick of pepperoni, some crackers, a piece of Longhorn 
cheese, and a can of sardines. I sat down on a railroad rail outside 
the grocery store and I ate. What was left, I put back in the paper bag 
and found myself a hotel. It didn't cost much in those days to stay in 
a hotel, so I spent the night in a hotel.
  While in that hotel I, of course, felt lonely. My wife and two 
daughters were back in West Virginia, miles away. I was homesick.
  I opened the drawer of a table in the room, and there was a Gideon 
Bible. That was the first Gideon Bible I had ever seen. It was the King 
James version. Senators often hear me refer to the King James version. 
That is the only Bible I will read, the King James version. I like its 
immaculate English, its beautiful prose. I read two or three chapters 
of that Bible and went to bed. I said a little prayer and asked God to 
protect me and protect my wife and children back in West Virginia, to 
forgive us, and to help me the next day when I took the welding test in 
Tampa.
  The next day, I rose early. I ate what I had left over from the 
previous day: some pepperoni, some cheese, some of the bread. I went on 
to Tampa, took the welding test, passed it with flying colors, and was 
hired to work in McCloskey Shipyard.
  I found in that Bible the words of comfort and succor that helped me 
on that night in Tampa, FL. That was 57 years ago.
  I say to the young people here and to those young people who are 
watching the Senate via television, I want us to appreciate the words 
of the President when he talks about God, about prayer. I want you to 
realize that even though you are just juniors in high school, you too 
are going to grow old some day. We all grow old if God lets us live 
long enough. And there will come a time in life when you will need the 
strength that comes from a faith in a Creator, faith in a higher power. 
That is the kind of faith that our fathers had, the men and women who 
built this country, who built this Republic. It is a representative 
democracy. But it is not a democracy, a pure democracy. Theirs was a 
pure democracy in Athens, in Greece. But that was a small town compared 
with Washington, DC, or New York City.
  I say to the young people of this country--as well as to Senators--it 
doesn't make any difference how many degrees you may have, how many 
degrees you may attain, what you may achieve, the heights of whatever 
career you may choose in this life. Remember, when it all comes down to 
the end, six feet of Earth makes us all of one size. What will count 
then most of all is how well will I be prepared when I stand before the 
eternal judge?
  I attended an execution once of a young man who had killed a cab 
driver. He had hired a cab driver in Huntington, WV, to take him to 
Logan. On the way to Logan he shot the cab driver in the back, tossed 
him out beside the road, took his money, and went on. A few days later 
the young man was apprehended in a theater in Montgomery, WV. He was 
brought to trial, convicted, and sentenced to die in the electric 
chair.
  West Virginia law at that time required a certain number of witnesses 
to an execution. I thought that, inasmuch as I had occasion often to 
speak to young people in Sunday school classes, churches, Boy Scouts, 
Girl Scout troops, 4H Clubs, if I could talk with this young man who 
was about to go to the electric chair, he might be able to tell me 
something that would help these young people with whom I would meet and 
speak.
  On this occasion I went to the State penitentiary at Moundsville. I 
asked the warden to let me be one of the witnesses. He gave his 
approval. Before the execution, which was scheduled to be at 9 p.m., I 
asked the warden to let me talk with this young man whose name was Jim 
Hewlett. This was in 1951 when I was a member of the West Virginia 
Senate. I went to the death house, entered the death house, and there 
was Jim Hewlett. I shook his hand. It was clammy, with perspiration. 
Behind him was a chaplain.
  I said to Jim Hewlett, I have come tonight to ask you if you might 
have something that I could say to young people. I often have the 
occasion to speak with young people. I think you just might have 
something I could tell them, that would help them.

  He said:

       Well, tell them to go to Sunday school and church.

  He said:

       If I had gone, I wouldn't be here tonight.

  And then, as I started to go--I knew the time was fleeting and his 
remaining minutes were precious to him. As I turned to go, he said:

       Wait a minute. Tell them one other thing.

  He said:

       Tell them not to drink the stuff that I drank.

  Those were his exact words:

       Tell them not to drink the stuff that I drank.

  I said:

       Well, now, what do you mean by that?

  The Chaplain broke in. He said:

       I know what he means. He was drinking when he killed the 
     cab driver. You see that little crack on the wall up there? 
     If he were to have two or three drinks right now, he would 
     try to get through that crack in the wall. That's what it 
     does to him.

  I left the death house and went back to the warden's office, and when 
the hour came, I returned to the death house, and entered the death 
chamber. As one of the witnesses, I watched Jim Hewlett die.
  Some years later, probably 30 years later, I was in the northern 
panhandle of West Virginia, and while I was there, someone said: Why 
don't you go down and see Father--I don't remember the Father's name--
go down and see Father So-and-So. He's very ill, and I am sure it would 
help him if you just stopped by and said hello.
  I said:

       OK, where does he live?

  I had my driver take me to the man's house. He was sitting out on the 
back porch in the sunshine. I introduced myself and sat down with him.
  For some reason, I cannot account why, my conversation went back to a 
time when I visited Moundsville and witnessed the execution of a young 
man named Jim Hewlett. I don't recall how our conversation took this 
turn. But this priest, who, indeed, was in very failing health, 
listened raptly as I told about this execution, about what I had said, 
about what Jim Hewlett had said.
  When I finished, the priest said:

       Yes, that's the way it was. You see, I was the Chaplain 
     that night when you visited Jim Hewlett in his cell.

  I didn't know the priest. I didn't know his name. But there he was, 
30 years later, and he had been in that cell.
  The point I want to make is this. The young man scoffed at religion, 
and after he was convicted of this crime and scheduled to die, he 
didn't want a chaplain in his cell. He scoffed at religion. But when 
the last days came and Governor Patteson of West Virginia declined to 
change his sentence, declined to commute his sentence from death to 
life in prison or whatever, Jim Hewlett knew then that he was, indeed, 
going to die, and he wanted a chaplain in his cell. He had scoffed at 
religion. Now, when he knew that he indeed was going to meet God 
shortly, he wanted a chaplain in his cell.
  That is why I say to you young people all over this country, there 
will come a time when you, too, will want--will want God.

[[Page S540]]

     Last night, I passed beside the blacksmith's door,
     And heard the anvil ring the vesper chime,
     And looking in, I saw upon the floor,
     Old hammers worn with beating years of time.
     ``How many anvils have you had,'' said I,
     ``To wear and batter all these hammers so?''
     ``Only one,'' the blacksmith said, then with twinkling eye,
     ``The anvil wears the hammers out, you know.''
     And so the Bible, the anvil of God's word,
     For centuries, skeptic blows have beaten upon,
     But, though the noise of falling blows was heard,
     The anvil is unharmed, the hammers gone.

                               Exhibit 1

   Remarks by the President at National Prayer Breakfast, Washington 
                      Hilton Hotel, Washington, DC

       The President: Thank you very much, John. Laura and I are 
     really honored to join you this morning to celebrate the 50th 
     anniversary of the National Prayer Breakfast. And Admiral 
     Clark, whatever prayer you used for eloquence, worked. 
     (Laughter and applause.) I appreciate your message and I 
     appreciate your service to our great country. (Applause.)
       I want to thank Jon Kyl and Judge Sentelle for their words, 
     and CeCe for your music. I appreciate getting the chance to 
     meet Joe Finley, the New York City firefighter. He's a living 
     example of what sacrifice and courage means. Thank you for 
     coming, Joe. (Applause.)
       I want to thank Congressman Bart Stupak. I really 
     appreciate the fact that my National Security Advisor, 
     Condoleezza Rice, is here to offer prayer. (Applause.) I 
     appreciate the members of my Cabinet who are here. I want to 
     say hello to the members of Congress.
       I'm particularly grateful to Lisa Beamer for her reading 
     and for her example. (Applause.) I appreciate here example of 
     faith made stronger in trial. In the worst moments of her 
     life, Lisa has been a model of grace--her own, and. 
     (Applause.) And all America welcomes into the world Todd and 
     Lisa's new daughter, Morgan Kay Beamer. (Applause.)
       Since we met last year, millions of Americans have been led 
     to prayer. They have prayed for comfort in time of grief; for 
     understanding in a time of anger; for protection in a time of 
     uncertainty. Many, including me, have been on bended knee. 
     The prayers of this nation are a part of the good that has 
     come from the evil of September the 11th, more good than we 
     could ever have predicted. Tragedy has brought forth the 
     courage and the generosity of our people.
       None of us would ever wish on any one what happened on that 
     day. Yet, as with each life, sorrows we would not choose can 
     bring wisdom and strength gained in no other way. This 
     insight is central to many faiths, and certainly to faith 
     that finds hope and comfort in a cross.
       Every religion is welcomed in our country; all are 
     practiced here. Many of our good citizens profess no religion 
     at all. Our country has never had an official faith. Yet we 
     have all been witnesses these past 21 weeks to the power of 
     faith to see us through the hurt and loss that has come to 
     our country.
       Faith gives the assurance that our lives and our history 
     have a moral design. As individuals, we know that suffering 
     is temporary, and hope is eternal. As a nation, we know that 
     the ruthless will not inherit the Earth. Faith teaches 
     humility, and with it, tolerance. Once we have recognized 
     God's image in ourselves, we must recognize it in every human 
     being.
       Respect for the dignity of others can be found outside of 
     religion, just as intolerance is sometimes found within it. 
     Yet for millions of Americans, the practice of tolerance is a 
     command of faith. When our country was attacked, Americans 
     did not respond with bigotry. People from other countries 
     and cultures have been treated with respect. And this is 
     one victory in the war against terror. (Applause).
       At the same time, faith shows us the reality of good, and 
     the reality of evil. Some acts and choices in this world have 
     eternal consequences. It is always, and everywhere, wrong to 
     target and kill the innocent. It is always, and everywhere, 
     wrong to be cruel and hateful, to enslave and oppress. It is 
     always, and everywhere, right to be kind and just, to protect 
     the lives of others, and to lay down your life for a friend.
       The men and women who charged into burning buildings to 
     save others, those who fought the hijackers, were not 
     confused about the difference between right and wrong. They 
     knew the difference. They knew their duty. And we know their 
     sacrifice was not in vain. (Applause.)
       Faith shows us the way to self-giving, to love our neighbor 
     as we would want to be loved ourselves. In service to others, 
     we find deep human fulfillment. And as acts of service are 
     multiplied, our nation becomes a more welcoming place for the 
     weak, and a better place for those who suffer and grieve.
       For half a century now, the National Prayer Breakfast has 
     been a symbol of the vital place of faith in the life of our 
     nation. You've reminded generations of leaders of a purpose 
     and a power greater than their own. In times of calm, and in 
     times of crisis, you've called us to prayer.
       In this time of testing for our nation, my family and I 
     have been blessed by the prayers of countless of Americans. 
     We have felt their sustaining power and we're incredibly 
     grateful. Tremendous challenges await this nation, and there 
     will be hardships ahead. Faith will not make our path easy, 
     but it will give us strength for the journey.
       The promise of faith is not the absence of suffering, it is 
     the presence of grace. And at every step we are secure in 
     knowing that suffering produces perseverance, and 
     perseverance produces character, and character produces 
     hope--and hope does not disappoint.
       May God bless you, and may God continue to bless America. 
     (Applause.)

  Mr. BYRD. Mr. President, I yield the floor. I suggest the absence of 
a quorum.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. The senior Senator from West Virginia yields 
the floor and suggests the absence of a quorum. The clerk will call the 
roll.
  The assistant legislative clerk proceeded to call the roll.
  Mr. REID. Mr. President, I ask unanimous consent that the order for 
the quorum call be rescinded.
  The PRESIDING OFFICER. Without objection, it is so ordered.

                          ____________________