
No one can deny the power of the words of Martin Luther King, Jr. At least part of that power finds its roots in the majesty, cadences, language, stories, and images of the King James Bible. As a minister and son of a minister, King knew his King James Bible, and that knowledge permeated King’s speech patterns and thought throughout his too-short life. Our upcoming topic for Musings next week will be the 400th anniversary of the King James Bible. To jump start that discussion and in celebration of Dr. King’s birthday, here are two links to Dr. King reading portions of Mark 10: 35-45 from the King James Bible and part of his sermon (the “Drum Major Instinct” sermon) on that text.
Mark 10: 35-45 and excerpt from The Drum Major Instinct
Excerpt from The Drum Major Instinct
TweetYesterday we posted a portion of the address given by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. on March 25, 1965 on the steps of the state capitol in Montgomery AL. This speech came to be known as the “How Long?” address. Today as we recognize and celebrate his birth, we are posting further excerpts from the speech. The full address can be read at: “Our God is Marching On!”
Joshua fit the battle of Jericho, Joshua fit the battle of Jericho, And the walls come tumbling down. Up to the walls of Jericho they marched, spear in hand. “Go blow them ramhorns,” Joshua cried, “‘Cause the battle am in my hand.”There is nothing wrong with marching in this sense. The Bible tells us that the mighty men of Joshua merely walked about the walled city of Jericho and the barriers to freedom came tumbling down. I like that old Negro spiritual, “Joshua Fit the Battle of Jericho.” In its simple, yet colorful, depiction of that great moment in biblical history, it tells us that:
The battle is in our hands. And we can answer with creative nonviolence the call to higher ground to which the new directions of our struggle summons us. The road ahead is not altogether a smooth one. There are no broad highways that lead us easily and inevitably to quick solutions. But we must keep going.
These words I have given you just as they were given us by the unknown, long-dead, dark-skinned originator. Some now long-gone black bard bequeathed to posterity these words in ungrammatical form, yet with emphatic pertinence for all of us today.
———-
I know you are asking today, “How long will it take?” Somebody’s asking, “How long will prejudice blind the visions of men, darken their understanding, and drive bright-eyed wisdom from her sacred throne?” Somebody’s asking, “When will wounded justice, lying prostrate on the streets of Selma and Birmingham and communities all over the South, be lifted from this dust of shame to reign supreme among the children of men?”
How long? Not long, because “you shall reap what you sow.”Somebody’s asking, “When will the radiant star of hope be plunged against the nocturnal bosom of this lonely night, plucked from weary souls with chains of fear and the manacles of death? How long will justice be crucified, and truth bear it?”
I come to say to you this afternoon, however difficult the moment, however frustrating the hour, it will not be long, because “truth crushed to earth will rise again.” How long? Not long, (Yes, sir) because “no lie can live forever.”
© The Estate of Martin Luther King, Jr.
March 1965 witnessed one of the emotional and political peaks of the civil rights movement. Months of voter registration efforts, marches and protests in Selma, Alabama, had culminated in the shooting death of a marcher by an Alabama state trooper in February 1965.
In response, leaders of the voter registration efforts decided to stage a march from Selma to Montgomery to confront George Wallace with the death of the marcher and his complicity in that act. Three efforts to make the march from Selma to Montgomery took place in March 1965. The first on March 7 is remembered as Bloody Sunday when marchers were gassed and beaten as they tried to cross the Edmund Pettus Bridge in Selma. The second effort on March 9 was turned back by state troopers and a court injunction. On March 11, a Unitarian minister who had come to Selma in support of the marchers died as a result of a beating he had received in Selma.
On March 16, President Lyndon Johnson addressed a joint session of Congress to present legislation that would become the Voting Rights Act of 1965. Finally, on March 21 after the injunction had been lifted, the marchers to Montgomery crossed the Edmund Pettus Bridge on the first day of their journey to Montgomery. They arrived four days later where on March 25, Martin Luther King, Jr. gave what has become known as the “How Long?” speech on the steps of the state capitol. Below are some excerpts from that speech. We will post some additional excerpts tomorrow, the day we celebrate his birth. A complete copy of the text can be found here “Our God is Marching On!”
Last Sunday, more than eight thousand of us started on a mighty walk from Selma, Alabama. We have walked through desolate valleys and across the trying hills. We have walked on meandering highways and rested our bodies on rocky byways. Some of our faces are burned from the outpourings of the sweltering sun. Some have literally slept in the mud. We have been drenched by the rains.
Our bodies are tired and our feet are somewhat sore. But today as I stand before you and think back over that great march, I can say, as Sister Pollard said-a seventy-year-old Negro woman who lived in this community during the bus boycott-and one day, she was asked while walking if she didn’t want to ride. And when she answered, “No,” the person said, “Well, aren’t you tired?” And with her ungrammatical profundity, she said, “My feets is tired, but my soul is rested.” And in a real sense this afternoon, we can say that our feet are tired, but our souls are rested.
……………
Today I want to tell the city of Selma, today I want to say to the state of Alabama, today I want to say to the people of America and the nations of the world, that we are not about to turn around.
We are on the move now.
Yes, we are on the move and no wave of racism can stop us. We are on the move now. The burning of our churches will not deter us. The bombing of our homes will not dissuade us. We are on the move now.
The beating and killing of our clergymen and young people will not divert us. We are on the move now. The wanton release of their known murderers would not discourage us. We are on the move now.
Like an idea whose time has come, not even the marching of mighty armies can halt us.
We are moving to the land of freedom.
Let us therefore continue our triumphant march to the realization of the American dream.
Tweet© The Estate of Martin Luther King, Jr.
“Our work for peace must begin within the private world of each one of us. To build for man a world without fear, we must be without fear. To build a world of justice, we must be just.” Dag Hammarskjöld
As we muse on who we want to become as we commemorate the anniversary of the attacks on September 11, it is instructive to consider how others have responded to challenges of living in a world filled with conflict.
Yesterday was the 50th anniversary of the death of Dag Hammarskjöld in 1961. Hammarskjöld was the second Secretary-General of the United Nations, serving during from 1953 to 1961 during the height of the Cold War. He died in a plane crash on his way to the Congo where he was negotiating a cease-fire agreement. To learn more about him see the following tribute in the New York Times Dag Hammarskjöld. He is the only individual to ever be awarded a posthumous Nobel Prize.Earlier this year we considered two important issues that the PC(USA) General Assembly recommended to Presbyteries for study and vote: The Confession of Belhar to be added to the Book of Confessions and the new form of government (nFog) portion of the Book of Order. Unlike Amendment 10-A, the final decision on these issues has yet to be decided. Pines Presbytery voted yes on both issues.
The Confession of Belhar comes from the church in South Africa and encourages us to seek reconciliation for situations that seem intractable. To be included in the Book of Confessions, it needs to be affirmed by 2/3 of the 174 Presbyteries (116 positive votes needed) and affirmed by the 2012 General Assembly.
As of June 1, 85 Presbyteries had voted in favor of the Belhar and 55 had voted no (60.7 % in favor), with 34 Presbyteries still to vote.
To learn more about Belhar, visit these postings: http://fpcshreveportblogs.org/belhar-confession/ and http://fpcshreveportblogs.org/not-our-own-being-christian-in-difficult-times/
The nFOG provides a form of government that is more streamlined and more responsive to local ministry needs. One emphasis in the nFOG is missional ecclesiology or a recognition that “the Church is not a building or an institution but a community of witness, called into being and equipped by God, and sent into the world to testify to and participate in Christ’s work.” A majority of Presbyteries (87) need to affirm it for inclusion in the Book of Order.
As of June 1, 79 Presbyteries had voted in favor of nFOG and 81 had voted no (49.4 % in favor), with 14 Presbyteries still to vote.
To learn more about missional ecclesiology and the nFOG, see http://fpcshreveportblogs.org/what-is-missional-ecclesiology
Tweet
October 31 has always been a portentous day in our Western culture. In the centuries of our pre-history, it was understood by our Celtic and European forebears to be nothing less than the eve of an annually-repeated rupture between the living and the dead. All the customary protective membranes and trustworthy barriers faded away during those black-dark hours of 31 October when heaven stopped in order that earth might shift from her rhythms of living to the merciless months of dying.
Such a reading of the seasons eventually proved to be too much, of course; and we westerners early began to tame our forebears’ anxieties. As we Christianized, we changed Samhain into All Hallows and then proceeded from there to domesticate All Hallows into Halloween. We even sanctified the time immediately on the other side of the dreaded “night of dark” by establishing November 1 as the holy day of All Saints and, just for good measure, added November 2 as that of All Souls. On the first, good Christian folk recall and honor the lives of those who have been martyred for the faith or, at the very least, have lived exemplary lives of obedience and faithfulness. On the second, we recall the dead of lesser stature or perhaps just of more personal memory and immediate concern. Commencing on All Hallows itself, then, it has been customary for centuries for the devout to go into a nearby, or village, church in order to pray themselves and their dead safely through the uneasy rift of 31 October.
Four hundred and ninety-one years ago today, Martin Luther knew all of this and chose to employ it for the sake of a faith he loved and the reform of a Church he served. We do Luther a great disservice if we see him today as a destroyer and an anarchist. Rather, history shows us a man deeply concerned with the state of his own soul and equally concerned over a Church that had become too encrusted with financial and political concerns to do fully the work of God. It was for this reason that Luther sought public discussion on the matters that seemed to him as a cleric most to defile the Church and to leave it most open to ridicule and scorn. He drew up ninety-five distinct points that he found to be in need of amendment and concerning each of which he desired a time of public debate. Then, in a stroke of genius that would do honor to a contemporary media mogul, Luther took his ninety-five propositions or theses to church with him on October 31.
Whether or not Luther nailed those papers of his on the church door itself is of little moment. Folk history says he did, and real history says he may have. With or without a hammer, though, Luther deliberately chose 31 October. It was the one day in the year when people, both lay and clergy, would come and go through the church at Wittenberg and would, by cultural heritage and conditioned belief, be most susceptible to hearing what he was crying out for them to hear.
The end result of that Halloween almost five centuries ago was not the end result that Luther had desired, and certainly not the one he could ever have envisioned. In fact, though he stuck to his principles and sustained his call for reform, he hated to his dying day being labeled as a protester against the Church. He was of her and acted only out of love of her. What he had unleashed on that Halloween of 1517 was greater than he; and, ultimately, he became its servant more than its originator. Protestantism had been born.
The Reformation is over now. It has been for several decades. We can, and do, speak easily and colloquially nowadays of ourselves as being post-modern, post-rational, and post-Reformation and, if we are Christian, we speak almost as readily of our times as being post-denominational and post-Protestant. In saying these things, we are acknowledging to ourselves and to each other, however innocently, that the eras have changed again, both for the Church and for the culture of which it is a part and which it informs and is informed by.
Luther and Zwingli and Calvin have other names today–ones like McLaren and McKnight, Pagitt and Jones, Mobsby and Rollins; and the new rising or birthing form of both Christianity and of North American Judaism is no longer said by us to be protesting or reforming, but rather to be emerging. So be it. We can no more stop the flow of seismic change than Luther could have, nor would we want to. What came out of Luther and his October 31st had in it the seeds of the literacy, science, technology, commerce, and governing systems that are the hallmarks as well as the privileges of Western life. Beyond those cultural shifts themselves, for the Christian Church it matters that the Great Reformation’s addition of Protestantism to Roman Catholicism, Anglicanism, and Orthodoxy expanded exponentially the demographic and the geographic reach of the faith.
The appropriate question for us and for our October 31st in this year of Our Lord 2008, then, is not one of how do we roll time and its systems or its praxis and doctrines back to where things were when Luther and the Reformation shifted them, or even back to where they were and what they were that made Luther want to shift them. No, the question for us this All Hallows is how do we greet this new thing that has come among us? How do we embrace–or barring that grace, how do we live in balance with–this radical new form of being that decries hierarchy and creeds and calls instead for merciful justice, incarnated belief, the employment of the ancient practices of Judeo-Christian formation and, for Christians specifically, the pursuit of the actualness of what Jesus of Nazareth said? How indeed?
Martin Luther used his All Hallows well. Since we can see that from here, it is only logical to assume that somebody else will be able to see–and assess–us from All Hallows 2499. That thought contains the kind of compelling possibility that has always haunted October 31.
May you and I both have a portentous day.
Phyllis Tickle, founding editor of the Religion Department of Publishers Weekly, is the author of over two dozen books in religion and spirituality, most notably the Divine Hours series of manuals for observing fixed-hour prayer.
Tweet