Roanoke Times
Copyright (c) 1995, Landmark Communications, Inc.
DATE: WEDNESDAY, July 25, 1990 TAG: 9007250398
SECTION: EDITORIAL PAGE: A/9 EDITION: METRO
SOURCE: DAVID HAYDEN
DATELINE: LENGTH: Medium
Snyder was my friend. I loved him very much. Our union with each other was steeped in a fellowship of suffering; a spirituality of suffering that reached the very deepest parts of our souls.
In life, Mitch knew what God had called him to do. In life, I know what God has called me to do. Mitch and I knew that about each other. Recently, someone asked Mitch and I about our speaking plans. Mitch, responding pointedly, told the questioner that "myself and David will speak and act when God tells us to do so."
Some will see that as arrogance or even a messiah complex. It is neither. In fact, it makes one tremble with fear before God. Mitch feared no individual or institution - whether it be the federal government or the institutional church. Mitch did fear God, though, and hence lived his life with a zeal that has been seldom seen on this Earth. Snyder, a radical Christian, understood the cross.
My beloved brother understood that to know God, to do justice, was to be clothed with the suffering of the poor. No liberal advice-giver here. In fact, Mitch despised charity - he demanded justice. He knew full well the suffering and pain that it would entail. One cannot understand Mitch in life or in death unless one grasps the biblical concept of the suffering servant.
Mitch knew the power of truth. He knew that truth unleashes unfathomable power. On the one hand, doing the truth sets in motion kingdom forces for justice. On the other, it unleashes the fury of demonic opposition that leaves no stone unturned in its evil efforts to destroy the bearer of that truth.
Snyder clearly saw the evil inherent in institutions - whether it be church, state or the economic system of the rich. He knew that we were involved in a cosmic clash between good and evil. Mitch unmasked the principalities and powers: the institutions and structures. They were enraged. Those that speak pious platitudes don't like to be exposed.
Mitch became the target of phony politicians, liberals made afraid by his courage, small-minded folks with their own agenda and people made jealous by his national prominence, to name a few. He was the object of many and varied sordid attacks. Day in and day out, it continued.
If living with the suffering of the poor wasn't enough, he lived with the deep hurt of lies such as: "Mitch Snyder really lives in a third-floor penthouse"; "he just uses poor people"; "he simply is a media hound and an egotist of the grossest sort"; "he embezzles money"; and various and sundry other garbage.
He was attacked by service providers. He was attacked by bureaucrats. He was attacked by conservatives, and he was attacked by white liberals who have no courage. Sometimes he was attacked by the poor themselves, who have so internalized oppression that they could not conceive of someone doing something simply because it was right.
Add to this the coldness, the numbness and the ugly materialism in this society, and one finds complete the construction of a vice that kept tightening in an ever-intensifying effort to destroy the one who so enraged the comfortable and affluent.
This is not an abstract discussion for me. You see, I know a bit about this pain myself - just a bit. Mitch and I talked about it a lot. We saw it in each other's eyes. We sensed it in each other's souls.
I recently said to Mitch, "I have never seen a time when folks who are legitimate in the struggle for justice have come under such intense attacks." He looked at me and with a pained expression on his face as was on mine, he said, "David, it's the end times. Its name is Legion."
So do the words, "Mitch Snyder is dead," make any sense at all? Well, yes, they do if one realizes that once one commits his or her life to the relentless pursuit of justice, to the doing of truth, that they sign their own death warrant.
Mitch couldn't take the pain anymore. It was the greed, the numbness and the materialism of this society that killed Snyder. In a moment of despair, the pain became so excruciating, so horrible, so intense, that he succumbed. Mitch's death represents the cry, the terrible agony of the poor. In his death, as well as his life, he is crying out to us to heed that cry - to stop the suffering and pain. How many will have to die before we listen?
I mourn and agonize over the passing of my beloved friend. I look forward to the day when the doers of justice will link arms and joyfully shout, "Fallen, fallen is Babylon the Great." I love you Mitch, and I'll see you there.
by CNB