"Why We Can't Wait"
A Sermon for Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. Sunday by Rev. Charles
Blustein Ortman
January 16, 2011
READINGS: ANCIENT & MODERN
Our first reading is from the Hebrew book of Micah:
He has told you… what is good; and what does the LORD require
of you but to do justice, to love kindness, and to walk humbly with
your God?
Our modern reading is from the book, Why We Can't Wait,
by Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.:
In the spring of 1963, the Civil Rights campaign against the tyranny
of Birmingham was just beginning. From both Black leadership and
from white institutions of power, Dr. King faced severe criticism
for the timing of the campaign. He knew that he must join those
being arrested and he did, although unlike any of the others he
was placed in a totally dark, solitary confinement chamber. His
struggle was intensified knowing that his detention might prove
disastrous for the financing of the campaign. He wrote:
Meanwhile, on Easter Sunday afternoon, two of our attorneys…
had been allowed to visit me. They told me that Clarence B. Jones,
my friend and lawyer, would be coming in from New York the following
day. When they left, none of the questions tormenting me had been
answered, but when Clarence Jones arrived the next day, before I
could even tell him how happy I was to see him, he said a few words
that lifted a thousand pounds from my heart:
"Harry Belafonte has been able to raise $50,000 for bail bonds.
It is available immediately. And he says that whatever else you
need, he will raise it."
I found it hard to say what I felt. Jones's message brought me more
than relief from the immediate concern about money; more than gratitude
for the loyalty of friends far away; more than confirmation that
the life of the movement could not be snuffed out. What silenced
me was a profound sense of awe. I was aware of a feeling that had
been present all along below the surface of consciousness, pressed
down under the weight of concern for the movement; I had never been
truly in solitary confinement; God's companionship does not stop
at the door of a jail cell. I don't know whether the sun was shining
at that moment. But I know that once again I could see the light.
SERMON:
I find myself hoping that the Martin Luther King holiday means
much more to us than White Sales and Tire Sales and time away from
work or school. I hope it means more than telling stories that are
about things like cutting down cherry trees or skipping a dollar
across the Potomac, or making nice over events that were anything
but nice. I hope this is a holiday that provides us opportunities
to think about the life of a great man, and the qualities he had
that might continue to inspire us.
Martin Luther King's birthday is one of my favorite Sundays to
preach each year. What an honor it is to spend time in preparation
for this day by reading the words of someone that I admired and
still admire so much. How terribly tragic it is that he was violently
assassinated, taken away from us at such an early age, though it
would have been tragic at any age.
But still, how wonderful, how fortunate, how prophetic it is that
we had this remarkable human being with us on this planet as our
brother for 39 years. When he called America to account for its
injustices, he spoke in a voice and in a manner that touched me,
that included me, that included every American - whether they heard
his call or not.
I was 17 when the horrible news of the shooting rang out from Memphis.
I suspect that a good number of the people in this room were not
even born yet on April 4, 1968. I want to tell you what happens
when someone who was a brother like Martin dies. What happens is
they go from being a brother, a comrade, a mortal leader, to being
something of a saint.
I don't want anyone to get their knickers all in a twist over my
use of the word saint. Traditionally, a saint is someone who has
been "certified" as having been responsible for at least
three miracles, posthumously. I've never been particularly taken
by the magical thinking of post-mortem histrionics, but I can assure
you that I personally saw Martin Luther King's hand touching upon
countless miracles while he was alive during my adolescence. That
he led millions of people nonviolently through innumerable confrontations,
standing up to the violence of bigots, police, police bigots, police
dogs and fire hoses, speaks to me of millions of miracles.
Saints aren't gods though; they're human beings. That means they
struggle and sometimes fail, just as we all do. What makes them
saints in my book is that they make a difference, a big difference,
in the world. And the legacy of their lives, after they've left
us, continues to make a difference.
I've had the opportunity these past couple of weeks to read and
re-read several of Dr. King's writings. Even his writing is so very
human, so very accessible. Being in the same profession as he was,
I study the way he wrote, his structure and style. But more, I look
at the challenges he dealt with so admirably; how those challenges
spoke to him; how he spoke back to those challenges; how he girded
his loins in order to make the choices he knew he was called upon
to make for the sake of others. And then how he translated his experience
into words so that he might inspire those who depended on his leadership.
He was a saint and a prophet, and a teacher in my book. His legacy
continues to bless us; it continues to challenge, to teach and to
inspire us.
"Why We Can't Wait" was the book Dr. King published in
January of 1964, about three months after the assassination of President
Kennedy. "We were all involved in the death of Kennedy,"
Dr. King wrote. "We tolerated hate; we tolerated the sick stimulation
of violence in all walks of life; and we tolerated the different
application of the law, which said that a [person's] life was sacred
only if we agreed with his views…We mourned a man who had become
the pride of the nation, but we grieved as well for ourselves because
we knew we were sick."
1963 had been an almost impassable year for the Civil Rights Movement,
but Dr. King persisted. In the aftermath of JFK's death, in the
wake of the bombing that killed four little black girls at the 16th
Street Baptist Church in Birmingham, in response to widespread opposition
attributed to the ill-conceived timing of the Birmingham Campaign,
Dr. King wrote "Why We Can't Wait" in an attempt to explain
the potency of non-violent direct action by showing how successful
it had been in Birmingham and other cities. It was also written
as a diagnosis of our nation that had embraced violence as a way
of doing business, a matter of course in the promotion of racism
and oppression over the marginalized of this country and abroad.
But more, it was an indictment of a culture that had begun to cede
the power of sway in the political arena from discourse to violence.
"We were all involved in the death of Kennedy," he wrote.
"We tolerated hate…"
Why we can't wait, was a question that he answered by saying that
the time to do right in the face of wayward powers and principalities
must always be now. The time to act nonviolently in response to
violent injustice will never be a comfortable time. The time to
act is always now.
In some ways we've come a long ways since the assassination of
Martin Luther King. Jim Crow laws no longer exist. The Ku Klux Klan
has lost its hegemony. The right to vote is assumed by every adult
citizen of our country. Or is it? And this is where some of our
accomplishments begin to unravel. For example, felons have lost
the right to vote. Who are felons?
In the past half century, the number of felons doing time has increased
some 800%. The percentage of white men in prison is 36%; Black men
make up 42%, Hispanic men 18%. One of every four black men is statistically
likely to be imprisoned during his lifetime. (Source: Corrections.com)
I'm not saying felons should be able to vote. I'm asking, who are
the felons? And why? And why so many?
In some ways we've come a long ways but in some ways we have not
come so far at all. These prison statistics speak of huge failures
in so many of the institutions that form our social fabric - education,
housing, economics and justice to name a few. It would be grossly
negligent and culturally insensitive of me to speak of Martin Luther
King's dream today and fail to mention how much further we have
to go before that dream is realized. We have made progress, yet
still there is so far to go before we can all really see the vision
of the promised land that he saw from the mountain top.
There is still another truth regarding what Martin spoke about
that rings out today. And once again it came with the fatal blast
of gunshots heard at 11:00 last Saturday morning at a Safeway grocery
store in Tucson, AZ. We all know the story too well by now of the
attempted assassination on Rep. Gabrielle Giffords. The Congresswoman
and twelve others were mortally wounded while six innocent people
were killed. The dead included 9-year old Christina Green and Federal
Judge John Roll.
The reports of Rep. Giffords progress have been surprisingly positive.
I have to believe though, that the likelihood of her being able
to return to any likeness of the life she knew before the shootings
are astonishingly low. I pray that I am wrong.
The truth of it is though, that there are over 10,000 homicides
committed using firearms annually in this country. Time Magazine
reports this week that last year over 31,000 people died from gun
violence; 12,632 people were murdered and more than 100,000 Americans
are shot in murders, assaults, suicides, accidents or by police
intervention. It is a tragic shame that this awful fact of violence
has been driven home so harshly by the shootings last Saturday in
Tucson. It is clear that we have become far too tolerant of gun
violence in our midst.
Because that particular tragedy has left us, or at least most Americans
I think, asking ourselves, as the Press has been asking incessantly
for over a week now, "Why did Jared Loughner go to the Safeway
to shoot Gabby Giffords? Was it because he is a deranged madman
who finally went completely over the edge? Or was it because he
was provoked by the vitriolic political discourse that seems to
promote the value of violence as a means of establishing political,
personal or moral superiority?
If we were to listen very quietly try to hear what the voice of
Martin Luther King might say in answer to these questions, what
do you think we might hear? I have to think he would say that it
is because of both of those reasons that Jared Loughner acted. He
is likely a deranged madman, and he was tuned-in to the rhetoric
of hate.
But more, Dr. King might add, "We were all involved in the
shootings. We tolerated hate; we tolerated the sick stimulation
of violence... We all tolerated a different application of the law
that tells us that another person's life is less sacred, when the
other person disagrees with our views." Dr. King would not
likely suggest that any of us might be the one to pull the trigger.
But his legacy asks us if we are not quite compliant, over-tolerant
of an environment that incubates such terrorism. And this is terrorism.
I don't want to talk about the urgency of the need for gun control
or absurdity of arguments regarding smart bullets or the size of
ammo magazine clips. I don't want to talk about irresponsible political
leaders who refuse to be accountable for sloppy and misguided language
and graphics that might or might not lead someone to feel justified
in inflicting violence on others of differing orientation. I suspect
that many of us here might have similar feelings about those topics.
And besides, you can have all you want of those arguments from the
op/ed writers and TV pundits.
What I suspect we need to talk about here is - what do the events
of last Saturday mean to us as a people - all of us? Do we all have
culpability in these events?
We might ask, what is our society's relationship with mental illness?
Are we in right-relationship with those who fall victim to their
own demons? What do we owe them? What would we want or need for
them? What would we need or want, if our roles were reversed? What
do our systems and institutions that work with the mentally ill
need to do for them and for us all?
And what is our society's relationship to its political processes?
Are we or do we strive to be in right-relationship with those of
differing political perspectives? What would we want or need from
them? What do we owe the conversation that so far we have been unable
to bring to the table?
If we want to come out of this experience with any renewed sense
of wholeness or of hope for wholeness, I think it will depend on
our ability, individually and collectively, to undergo some kind
of conversion. Someone else's conversion cannot ever lead to understanding
the larger picture for any of us. If change is to occur, it will
need to happen in all of our hearts, in all of our actions. And
the only one we really have the power to change is ourselves.
The reason - or at least one of the reasons - that the Civil Rights
Movement under Dr. King's leadership was so successful in Birmingham,
Selma, Atlanta, and in so many other cities and towns is because
Martin had the audacity to expect something saintly in the behavior
of everyone who took part in the non-violent direct action campaigns.
Participants had to sign off on a pledge form that contained, "Ten
Commandments," a set of disciplined expectations that Martin
held out for each of them. Maybe we should ask no less of ourselves.
I've put a revised copy of Dr. King's Ten Commandments in our order
of service today. I actually did far less editing on these in order
to orient them towards us than you might suppose. If you want to
see the originals they're easily found by Googling them. I'm not
asking anyone to sign this pledge but I wouldn't want to get in
the way of anyone who would. What I'm asking though is that you
take it home with you, and that you read it. Maybe you could read
it everyday for a week. Maybe you could put it up on your fridge.
Maybe you could check back from time to time to see how you're doing
on it.
Pledge form based on the one used by Dr. Martin Luther King and
the SCLC in the Birmingham Civil Rights campaign:
I HEREBY PLEDGE MYSELF - MY PERSON AND BODY - TO THE NON-VIOLENT
MOVEMENT. THEREFORE, I WILL KEEP THE FOLLOWING TEN COMMANDMENTS:
1) MEDITATE daily on teachings that affirm life.
2) REMEMBER always that the nonviolent movement anywhere seeks justice
and reconciliation - not victory.
3) WALK and TALK in the manner of love, for God is love.
4) PRAY daily to be used by God [Love] in order that all people
might be free.
5) SACRIFICE personal wishes in order that all people might be free.
6) OBSERVE with both friend and foe the ordinary rules of courtesy.
7) SEEK to perform regular service for others and for the world.
8) REFRAIN from the violence of fist, tongue or heart.
9) STRIVE to be in good spiritual and bodily health.
10) FOLLOW the directions of the movement and of the captain of
a demonstration.
I sign this pledge, having seriously considered what I do and with
the determination and will to persevere. Name______________________________________________.
The legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr. can continue to inspire and
guide us. The stakes for what is at risk in the challenges of our
time are no less significant than they were a half century ago.
Why we can't wait is because our country is depending on us - on
each of us and on all of us - to affirm and promote the inherent
worth and dignity of every person. It is because our world is depending
on us -each and all - to affirm and promote the interdependent web
of existence of which we are a part. Why we can't wait is because
the well-being of each of our own souls, and the collective soul
of our nation, hangs in the balance.
If the world is going to be a better place, if we are going to
treat the sick and defend the innocent, if we are going to stem
the tide of violence of political discourse, we are going to need
a few more saints walking around. We may not make it all the way
to sainthood, but we can sure as hell try! The truth is the world
is going to be a better place, if do we try. And it will be because
we will have all made ourselves better in it. Dr. King wrote:
"Now let me suggest first that if we are to have peace on earth,
our loyalties must become ecumenical rather than sectional. Our
loyalties must transcend our race, our tribe, our class, and our
nation; and this means we must develop a world perspective. No individual
can live alone; no nation can live alone, and as long as we try,
the more we are going to have war in this world. Now the judgment
of God is upon us, and we must either learn to live together as
brothers [and sisters] or we are all going to perish together as
fools."
And so I leave you with this wish, this prayer that comes from
the man who was Dr. King's own teacher and mentor, Mahatma Gandhi.
My prayer is that we might all grow to be strong enough to pray
such a prayer for ourselves and for others, for all others.
Gandhi's Prayer for Peace:
I offer you peace.
I offer you love.
I offer you friendship.
I see your beauty.
I hear your need.
I feel your feelings.
My wisdom flows from the highest source.
I salute that source in you.
Let us work together.
For unity and peace.
May it be so.
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