“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 Councillor 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..”
—Martin Luther King, Jr., “Letter from Birmingham Jail,” April 16, 1963.
I receive a letter from a friend encouraging me that I am in a position to speak out against racism. I am at a dream retreat and the presenter, also my spiritual director, tells the story several times about Jacob’s dream of a heavenly ladder. Jacob renames the place of his dream Bethel, house of God, God is present. I suddenly think of Bethel AME Church in Little Rock, where I fell in love with that African American congregation as they taught us all about racism and poverty. I had been assigned to Trinity Cathedral in Little Rock, and we planned together a celebration of the anniversary of the 1957 desegregation of Central High School. Later our daughter went there, and now a granddaughter is attending that historic school. In the past I have gone to a prayer breakfast at our sister St. Mark Baptist Church for the celebration of King’s birthday on January 15. Being there was empowering.
This week people all over the world will be celebrating the life of Martin Luther King, Jr., who died more than fifty years ago on April 4, 1968. I feel some ownership in his death since I was a senior medical student in Memphis when he was assassinated. At that time, my world centered solely on finishing medical school. His death made it more difficult for me to get to the hospital, since Memphis was briefly under a curfew and martial law. I do remember what the Dean of St. Mary’s Cathedral did. He carried the processional cross from the Cathedral and marched with other clergy to Memphis Mayor Loeb’s office, petitioning him to bring to an end the injustices that had brought King to Memphis. I also remember that Dean Dimmick’s speaking out with his feet brought consequences for him at the Cathedral, as he lost a large part of his congregation.
So here we are, more than fifty years later. How are we to carry the cross with our hands, as so many before us have modeled for us—walking out into the streets and going to the homes and schools and hospitals of our cities and countrysides, speaking and acting the truth with love against the violence and hatred that still lives?
I know I am a storyteller. I share my story with you; but especially today I offer it to my children and grandchildren, surrounding them with love and prayers that they may be empowered to do a better job than we did.
Joanna . joannaseibert.com