Today marks the 50th anniversary since the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
I wish I could have met this courageous truth-teller and humble follower of The Way.
As a sassy 6 year-old, I gave tongue lashings to those who bullied the ‘fringe kids’. I carefully scanned the playground at recess to watch for those in need of help. I returned glares and verbal jabs to the ‘mean kids’, whether in the classroom or in the pews.
This early bent toward justice–and many life experiences–have driven me to study Dr. King’s Gospel-centered work, to listen to his eloquent speeches, and to learn from his example. In my research, I’ve discovered an approach other than my own (which is to dropkick racists and verbally attack those who worship the Confederate flag–not exactly MLK style). King’s pastoral words spur me on to courageously and humbly address racism and to be a part of local and national racial reconciliation efforts.
On this memorable day, I offer two life lessons from one of my favorite preachers:
First, refuse to be silent.
As one who follows Christ, I believe I am called to speak out against injustice. In Scripture, the word ‘justice’ is often tied to the word ‘righteousness’. One who claims to identify with Jesus cannot ‘do right’ without seeking justice for the oppressed–and there are many ways to do this. These interconnected words command us to set free the captive, to care for and be among the poor, to reject the empirical powers and violent ‘solutions’, and to embody the truth that all people are made in the image of God and equal in value.
But silence in the face of racism appears to be the safer response. Silence allows us to move through our days without risking too much. To speak against racial injustice will likely disturb the social status quo, which might offend our family, friends, and local institutions. We could risk losing our comfort, time, online following, reputation, and job security–maybe even our lives.
And yet, how can we do ‘right’ but refuse to address this sin of embedded favortism?
Dr. King shows us how to ‘seek justice, love mercy, and walk humbly’. He was full of holy discontent–and for good reason. Despite the signing of the Emancipation Proclamation, blacks were still enslaved by the Jim Crow laws. Dr. King challenged these laws from the pulpit and in the public sphere. His words still speak to us–peacefully crying out for justice and unity and peace.
He wrote letters to President Lyndon B. Johnson, pushing for law reform so that blacks could share the same privileges as their fellow white Americans. When told to quiet down, to quit challenging the systems in power, his answer was always a firm and gracious “no”. King worked hard to desegregate public places and to underscore the words from the Declaration of Independence that ‘all men are created equal’.
In sermons and speeches, he reminded the Church and the nation that silence was more tragic than the goals of evil men:
“History will have to record that
the greatest tragedy of this period of social transition
was not the strident clamor of the bad people,
but the appalling silence of the good people.”
The second lesson is to tell the truth in peaceful ways.
For King, telling the truth in nonviolent ways was the only way to tell it. He refused to respond in hatred, believing that retaliation was not the way of Christ nor was it effective for authentic, sustainable change.
The white majority wanted to silence him while many Civil Rights advocates wished he would fight more aggressively. But King, influenced by the teachings of Jesus and Mahatma Ghandi, never fought with vengeful words or weapons against the ongoing systemic injustice. He continued to challenge white supremacy through peaceful marches and quiet demonstrations–refusing to strike back, even when he and his followers were mocked, assaulted, brutally beaten, attacked by police dogs, sprayed with fire truck hoses, and hunted down and shot.
Through the humiliation and brutality, Dr. King still insisted on a peaceful response:
“Violence is impractical because it is a descending spiral ending in destruction for all.
It is immoral because it seeks to humiliate the opponent rather than win his understanding: it seeks to annihilate rather than convert.
Violence is immoral because it thrives on hatred rather than love.
It destroys community and makes brotherhood impossible.
It leaves society in monologue rather than dialogue.
Violence ends up defeating itself.
It creates bitterness in the survivors and brutality in the destroyers.”
Whether in prison or on the streets, the hopeful Dr. King responded with love toward his enemies, admonishing his followers to do the same:
“Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.
We must forever conduct our struggle on the high plane of dignity and discipline.
We must not allow our creative protest to degenerate into physical violence.
Again and again we must rise to the majestic heights of meeting physical force with soul force.”
When I think of the current racial climate in America, I wonder whether we’re any more racially united than during the dark days of King’s courageous leadership. While laws have changed, the systemic effects continue and I have stories of my own that speak to the subtle forms of racism in various social spheres. I see pockets of reconciliation and change, yet I grieve the tragic and senseless loss of black lives and the silence of the ‘good people’.
I think of:
Rodney King (1991)
James Byrd Jr. (1998)
Sean Bell (2006)
Trayvon Martin (2012)
Renisha McBride (2013)
Michael Brown (2014)
Walter Scott (2015)
Freddie Gray (2015)
Stephon Clark (2018)
And countless others murdered out of unjust fear, unfounded suspicion, and unchecked anger toward those cloaked in brown or black skin.
We cannot ignore the racism that is woven into the fabric of our nation: housing, education, employment, mass incarceration, and yes, even within the Church.
Friends, the statistics (which are many) are hard to argue and the stories painful to read. We owe it to our black and brown brothers and sisters to pay attention, to seek to understand their reality, to confess and collectively grieve, and to move forward in humility and solidarity.
I am so deeply grateful for Dr. King’s work on behalf of our country and for the Kingdom.
And I’m learning to speak up–beyond those sassy playground days–and tell the truth more graciously.
If you could sit down with Dr. King today, what would you ask him?
How has his work and/or words influenced your life?
If you’re looking to further explore racial justice and racial reconciliation, I highly recommend educating yourself and spending time in conversation with people of color (I find it best to just listen). You can see my recommended resources from a previous post here.
Today, I offer a few more:
- Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting in the Cafeteria Together? And Other Conversations About Race by Beverly Daniel Tatum, PhD
- Disunity in Christ by Christena Cleveland, Director of the Center for Reconciliation, Duke Divinity School
- Be the Bridge: Equipping the World to Do the Work of Racial Unity https://beabridgebuilder.com
- Janie Velencia, “Majority Of White People Say There’s Racism Everywhere, But Not Around Them,” Huffington Post, July 7, 2015, htttp://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/white-people-racism-poll_55a91a4fe4b0c5f0322d17f2
- The Loving Generation: an original documentary series that follows the stories of children born to one black parent and one white parent after the 1967 decision of Loving v. Virginia.
**Unless specifically labeled in the post pictures, all photos were taken from: https://www.history.com/topics/black-history/martin-luther-king-jr/pictures
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