word-shaped life-songs

Sharing Birthdays with MLK, Jr.

Every year on my birthday, I’m profoundly reminded of someone else.

I grew up in southern California. Upon moving to Arkansas, I quickly realized I was seen as different and that “California” had a lot of meaning tied to it. I’ll never forget the first time I said “cha” like a beach bum, liberal, probably gay, hippie without a moral conscience that was likely carrying some weed instead of “yes” or “yeah.” I never thought about how I talked before and what that really meant to others about who I was. I mean that. WHO I WAS. Many had my identity, the core of who I am, my story, figured out when I said “cha” and I’m from California. It’s unthinkable and unthinkably common. I knew THEY had an accent. I knew what Californians thought of Arkansas, and many of the jokes would be made in an almost intelligible southern drawl when people heard we were moving there. But, I didn’t realize until then that I probably seemed just as different to them as they did to me just through our words and how we said them.

I’ll never forget awkwardly standing in front of a class on my way out to run an errand for a teacher. I was trying to figure out what I was supposed to say to be able to leave this classroom and help this teacher out. She sat back at her desk in the classroom. And with increasing intensity she simply “said”… “What?!” or “What did you say to me?!” or “What do you say to me?!” I remember feeling so strange inside. I was never seen by anyone as disrespectful before, and I honestly didn’t know how to fix my behavior. I didn’t know what to fix. I’m looking at a class full of people I didn’t know yet trying to get a hint. This was my first day at school here, and it didn’t seem to be going well. I finally said, “What am I supposed to say?” … She didn’t want to give me the answer. She was sure that I was a disrespectful punk that was trying to control this little errand transaction she had going. Finally, I realized a simple “okay” or “sure” or “yes” would not do. “Yes ma’am” or “Yes sir” was a requirement.

And, I’ll never forget the first year… and all of the years following… that we didn’t celebrate Martin Luther King, Jr. Day.

I’ll be honest here. Part of the reason I loved Martin Luther King, Jr. Day is because we had the same birthday. And, every once in a while the day off would align with his (and my!) actual birthday, so I could pretend that we got the day off because it was my birthday. But, I almost always had a three day weekend around my birthday. That’s pretty awesome to a kid.

But, I knew…as much as a grade school kid could, I suppose… about the Civil Rights Movement and Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.’s piece of that story in particular. Every holiday we got the day off in memorial of someone or something, my small private school in Riverside, CA would teach the history and significance of that person or event. And, every year, I listened to the speeches of Dr. MLK, Jr. and read parts of his letters. I was so moved by his voice! And, I’m not just talking about his beautifully lyrical intonations… I mean the fullness of his voice. His message, the person it was coming from, the influences on him, the purpose that drove him, the community that supported him, etc.

And, I was moved by the bittersweetness of the Christian aspects of the Civil Rights Movement storyline, particularly for Dr. MLK, Jr. That when so many, particularly in the south, upheld racism through the heretical handling of the very Word of God… MLK, Jr. didn’t flee from the Word and the God of it… No. He pressed more deeply into it and found the words of the True King and His Kingdom as well as the compelling, enduring motivation to persevere… even to his death. Oh, how I see the glory of Jesus Christ Himself in MLK, Jr.! You can nearly go line by line through his “speeches” (they were sermons!) and see that he was either nearly quoting Jesus or applying His teaching to the horror of racism and the beauty of racial harmony (which is an image of the very Kingdom of God!).

Isn’t it ironically tragic that the (in)famous Bible Belt was the most insidiously racist? 

I’m reminded of Paul’s words to Timothy: “Keep a close watch on yourself [your life] and on the teaching [doctrine]. Persist in this, for by so doing you will save both yourself and your hearers.” (1 Timothy 4:16) Orthodoxy and Orthopraxy are inextricably linked in the human experience. What you believe shapes how you live. And, how you live reveals what you believe.

It’s not hard to make God into your own image. It’s not hard to preach a lie and justify yourself by twisting Scripture. It’s not hard to make hate seem righteous on “Biblical grounds.” MLK, Jr. was bright enough (and I mean that in a lot of different ways) to see through shoddy Biblical arguments and stand for what God said… not what man is saying He said to make themselves seem “right.” MLK, Jr. dug into Scripture and let God show Him what was right in word and deed, was shaped by that, proclaimed that, lived that until the Pharisees of that day killed him like they did Jesus a couple millennia ago.

I’ve been shaped by MLK, Jr’s story. And, I know I can’t identify with all of it as a young, white guy… but the Christian parts… the parts common (or should be!) common to all believers irrespective of any de-humanizing label. I seek to carry that on… to proclaim the same message and humbly live it out no matter the cost.

And, guess what?! The battle of the Bible Belt rages on. Yes, still profoundly against racism, though it is not (in many ways, not all ways) as overt as it once was… but the battle of belief shaping life and life revealing belief is still fiercely raging. And, I… I pray in the line of MLK, Jr. and others… will not rest until people who identify with the person and work of Christ don’t just identify with Him in empty words, but with their whole selves… every part of their lives.

My favorite work from MLK, Jr. is his Letter from a Birmingham Jail. It’s my favorite, because of how strongly He uses the Word of God to correct men who claimed to be preaching the Word of God and leading people in it. I’m so thankful for prophetic voices like MLK. Jr. who will not let us speak lies or live lies about God… just like Jesus did in His days and continues to do through His Church by His Spirit. Here are some of my favorite pieces of the his Biblically/theologically based arguments:

…But more basically, I am in Birmingham because injustice is here. Just as the prophets of the eighth century B.C. left their villages and carried their “thus saith the Lord” far beyond the boundaries of their home towns, and just as the Apostle Paul left his village of Tarsus and carried the gospel of Jesus Christ to the far corners of the Greco Roman world, so am I compelled to carry the gospel of freedom beyond my own home town. Like Paul, I must constantly respond to the Macedonian call for aid…

…I had also hoped that the white moderate would reject the myth concerning time in relation to the struggle for freedom. I have just received a letter from a white brother in Texas. He writes: “All Christians know that the colored people will receive equal rights eventually, but it is possible that you are in too great a religious hurry. It has taken Christianity almost two thousand years to accomplish what it has. The teachings of Christ take time to come to earth.” Such an attitude stems from a tragic misconception of time, from the strangely irrational notion that there is something in the very flow of time that will inevitably cure all ills. Actually, time itself is neutral; it can be used either destructively or constructively. More and more I feel that the people of ill will have used time much more effectively than have the people of good will. We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people. Human progress never rolls in on wheels of inevitability; it comes through the tireless efforts of men willing to be co workers with God, and without this hard work, time itself becomes an ally of the forces of social stagnation. We must use time creatively, in the knowledge that the time is always ripe to do right. Now is the time to make real the promise of democracy and transform our pending national elegy into a creative psalm of brotherhood…

…So I have not said to my people: “Get rid of your discontent.” Rather, I have tried to say that this normal and healthy discontent can be channeled into the creative outlet of nonviolent direct action. And now this approach is being termed extremist. But though I was initially disappointed at being categorized as an extremist, as I continued to think about the matter I gradually gained a measure of satisfaction from the label. Was not Jesus an extremist for love: “Love your enemies, bless them that curse you, do good to them that hate you, and pray for them which despitefully use you, and persecute you.” Was not Amos an extremist for justice: “Let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like an ever flowing stream.” Was not Paul an extremist for the Christian gospel: “I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus.” Was not Martin Luther an extremist: “Here I stand; I cannot do otherwise, so help me God.” And John Bunyan: “I will stay in jail to the end of my days before I make a butchery of my conscience.” And Abraham Lincoln: “This nation cannot survive half slave and half free.” And Thomas Jefferson: “We hold these truths to be self evident, that all men are created equal …” So the question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be. Will we be extremists for hate or for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice or for the extension of justice? In that dramatic scene on Calvary’s hill three men were crucified. We must never forget that all three were crucified for the same crime—the crime of extremism. Two were extremists for immorality, and thus fell below their environment. The other, Jesus Christ, was an extremist for love, truth and goodness, and thereby rose above his environment. Perhaps the South, the nation and the world are in dire need of creative extremists…

…But despite these notable exceptions, I must honestly reiterate that I have been disappointed with the church. I do not say this as one of those negative critics who can always find something wrong with the church. I say this as a minister of the gospel, who loves the church; who was nurtured in its bosom; who has been sustained by its spiritual blessings and who will remain true to it as long as the cord of life shall lengthen…

…I have heard numerous southern religious leaders admonish their worshipers to comply with a desegregation decision because it is the law, but I have longed to hear white ministers declare: “Follow this decree because integration is morally right and because the Negro is your brother.” In the midst of blatant injustices inflicted upon the Negro, I have watched white churchmen stand on the sideline and mouth pious irrelevancies and sanctimonious trivialities. In the midst of a mighty struggle to rid our nation of racial and economic injustice, I have heard many ministers say: “Those are social issues, with which the gospel has no real concern.” And I have watched many churches commit themselves to a completely other worldly religion which makes a strange, un-Biblical distinction between body and soul, between the sacred and the secular…

…There was a time when the church was very powerful—in the time when the early Christians rejoiced at being deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society. Whenever the early Christians entered a town, the people in power became disturbed and immediately sought to convict the Christians for being “disturbers of the peace” and “outside agitators.”’ But the Christians pressed on, in the conviction that they were “a colony of heaven,” called to obey God rather than man. Small in number, they were big in commitment. They were too God-intoxicated to be “astronomically intimidated.” By their effort and example they brought an end to such ancient evils as infanticide and gladiatorial contests. Things are different now. So often the contemporary church is a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. So often it is an archdefender of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by the presence of the church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the church’s silent—and often even vocal—sanction of things as they are…

 

…Perhaps I have once again been too optimistic. Is organized religion too inextricably bound to the status quo to save our nation and the world? Perhaps I must turn my faith to the inner spiritual church, the church within the church, as the true ekklesia and the hope of the world. But again I am thankful to God that some noble souls from the ranks of organized religion have broken loose from the paralyzing chains of conformity and joined us as active partners in the struggle for freedom. They have left their secure congregations and walked the streets of Albany, Georgia, with us. 

 

…Their witness has been the spiritual salt that has preserved the true meaning of the gospel in these troubled times. They have carved a tunnel of hope through the dark mountain of disappointment. I hope the church as a whole will meet the challenge of this decisive hour.