MLK Day Remembered

MLK Day Remembered: Racism, Inconvenient Time

“I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro’s great   stumbling block in the stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen’s Council-er or the Ku Klux Klanner, but the white moderate who is more devoted to ‘order’ than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice; who constantly says, ‘I agree with you in the goal you seek, but I can’t agree with your methods of direct action;’ who paternalistically feels he can set the timetable for another man’s freedom; who lives by the myth of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait until a ‘more convenient season.’ Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.”—Martin Luther King Jr, “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” April 16, 1963.

day after assassination of MLK in Memphis. Ministers march to the Mayor’s office

I receive letters, emails, and blogs from friends encouraging me to speak against racism. I also remember being at a dream retreat, where my spiritual director told the story of Jacob’s dream of a heavenly ladder several times. Jacob renames the place of his dream Bethel, the house of God or God is present. I remember Bethel AME Church in Little Rock, where I fell in love with that African American congregation. They taught us about racism and poverty when I was a deacon at Trinity Cathedral in Little Rock.

We plan with Bethel a celebration of the anniversary of the 1957 desegregation of Central High School. Later, our daughter and two grandchildren would attend that historical school. In the past, I participated in a prayer breakfast at our sister St. Mark Baptist Church to celebrate MLK’s birthday with my spiritual director. Being there was empowering for both of us.

Yesterday, people worldwide celebrated the birthday of Martin Luther King Jr. on the third Monday of January. His actual birthday was January 15th, 1929.
Our liturgical calendar also honors MLK on his death on April 4th, 1968. I feel ownership in his death since I was a senior medical student in Memphis when he was assassinated. At that time, my world focused solely on finishing medical school. His death made it more difficult for us to get to the hospital since Memphis was briefly under a curfew and martial law.

I do remember that the dean of St. Mary’s Cathedral carried the processional cross from the cathedral and marched with other ministers in Memphis to Mayor Loeb’s office, petitioning to end the injustices that brought King to Memphis. I also remember Dean Dimmick speaking out with his feet, which had significant consequences for him at the cathedral, losing nearly half its members.

So here we are over fifty years later. How do we carry that cross, as previously modeled for us, walking out into the streets, homes, schools, hospitals, and countryside, speaking and acting the truth with love against violence, hatred, and injustices still present?

The examples of MLK and Dean Dimmick would tell us that nonviolence and love are still the way. The events of recent years, recent weeks, remind us how overcoming violence with violence never is the answer. We are called to pray on our knees, to pray standing and walking as we listen to so many in our country who are hurting.  

 I am a storyteller. I share my story with you, especially with our children and grandchildren, surrounding them with love and prayers, hoping we can empower them to do a better job than we have done.

Remembering Inaugurations of a New President

Remembering January 20th, Inauguration Day of a New President

“The Rock cries out to us today,

You may stand upon me,

But do not hide your face.”— Maya Angelou, “On the Pulse of Morning.”

Every four years, January 20th for some time has been the usual date for the inauguration of a president. I have been to two presidential inaugurations. Both were in the last century. Once, I was with my daughter, and once with my husband and friends.

I remember festivities the weekend before the inaugurations, with Peter, Paul, and Mary singing in a tent on the mall. We go to a Blue Jean Bash with Bob Dylan and eat catfish and hush puppies. There is an air of excitement on inauguration day as crowds fill the mall. The music is uplifting. There is always a sacred reading, the national anthem, as well as the hopes of the new president.

There is a feeling of newness, a new beginning with all its possibilities of making changes to give opportunities to people of our country whose lives seem hopeless because of suppression or disease, as Maya Angelou reads her poem written for the day. “On the Pulse of Morning.”

We offer thanks for the opportunities we know we have. We are empowered to make a difference in the lives of others. There is hope. We are there with every form of humanity: young babies crying, older adults who can barely stand looking for a place to sit. We are so close together in one melting pot that getting our gloved hands out of our heavy coat pockets is sometimes tricky.

Only once did we try to go from the inauguration to our ticketed seats for the parade. I can only remember telling my teenage daughter, “We will never make it,” trying to move against a tsunami wave of people. She kept telling me, “We can do it. We can make it,” and finally, we did.

Most recently, we fear danger may be uninvited to the inauguration. We still fear for the lives of the new president, vice president, members of Congress, and those who oppose them. We would never have believed this would be the scene for an inauguration in our country in our wildest dreams, but here we are.

 What can we do? 

We pray.

I know that prayers change the prayer-er, and prayers are heard. Prayers are like some mystical force that goes out into the universe, which can bring healing to places unknown and known. We pray to send love and protection to our country and its new leaders. We pray for those whose only response has now become violence and intimidation. We know something led them to that path. We pray to hear their story and tell them about love that casts out fear. 

The Work of Christmas after Epiphany

The Work of Christmas after Epiphany

“When the song of the angels is stilled,

When the star in the sky is gone, 

When the kings and princes are home, 

When the shepherds are back with their flock, 

The work of Christmas begins:

To find the lost, 

To heal the broken,

To feed the hungry, 

To release the prisoner,

To rebuild the nations, 

To bring peace among brothers [and sisters], 

To make music in the heart.”—Howard Thurman, The Mood of Christmas & Other Celebrations From InwardOutward/ Church of the Saviour Washington D.C. inwardoutward.org.

Carrying the love that came down at Christmas with us for the rest of the year is now our calling. Thurman calls it the work of Christmas. I need something to help me remember this.

I have a Christmas tree pin I will keep in a dish with other jewelry to notice as I prepare for the day. I may even wear the pin if I have difficulty carrying Christmas love with me during the day. Joyce Dalton sent me a picture of a Christmas pin she uses to remember the love of Christmas.

 Anthony de Mello in Sadhana, A Way to God, Christian Exercises in Eastern Form, gives us other suggestions in “Exercise 18: The Joyful Mysteries of Your Life.” He tells us to keep a memory book of times we felt loved or experienced the Christ child within us.

De Mello tells us to return to these times and relive the scene, as Ignatius Loyola would have us do. They both suggest we can experience the scene even more vividly in our memory. We could not enjoy it as much at the time for many reasons. Memories of Christmas love are significant for this exercise. We may have negative experiences at Christmas. We can work on these later with other de Mello exercises (“Exercise 24:Healing of Hurtful Memories”).

Reliving a loving memory can increase our capacity for love and joy. It can overcome our unconscious, instinctive resistance to happiness and love. As we go deeper into the memory, de Mello calls us to look for the presence of the love of the Christ child in the scene. This memory meditation becomes a way to recognize the love of God right beside us at all times. 

The first picture is of Zoe and Mary Anne, who made a surprise visit at the Epiphany service in 2023. I don’t have a picture, but I will carry a beautiful memory of all my family going with me this year to Epiphany on one of the coldest nights of the year. It was my first time back at church after an illness. We filled up a whole back row in the church with love and thanksgiving.