On April, 4, 1968, I turned 10. Double digits! Birthdays
were always special in our family, and this one did not disappoint. My dad came
over for dinner. We had my favorite meal. My mom made an ice cream cake,
complete with “surprises” inside—pennies, dimes, and nickels, folded in wax
paper, that were placed in the batter before it was baked. We played some
games, and then I sat down to watch Sally Field play Sister Bertrille in The
Flying Nun.
Except it wasn’t on…there was breaking news about an assassination.
A man named Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. had been shot in Memphis
Tennessee.
I didn’t know who he was. I watched the broadcast and
learned about this remarkable man of faith. As I listened, the scales of innocence
that I wore as a child fell off. I realized that my experience of the world was
not everyone else’s experience. I didn’t know what “racism” meant when I was
nine, but at 10, this word entered my vocabulary through the murder of Rev. Dr.
King.
Ever since that date, my birthday has been tempered by this
act of violence that took the life of this pastor/prophet who was seeking to
help a nation regain its soul by living into its cherished values of liberty and
justice for all. Every year since 1968, I have read more of his speeches and
sermons, learned more about his life, and have come to a better understanding
of the impact of both his life and death.
My vocation as a pastor has been informed by Rev. Dr. King. His
words and witness have challenged me to understand racism and the privilege
that is granted me by my whiteness, the overt and subtle ways racism limits
lives and the generational trauma that slavery has inflicted on African
Americans. I have had to speak out when some have sought to diminish,
disregard, or dishonor the dignity of another because of their race. We all,
every one of us, are made in the image of God. To deny the sacred worth of
someone because of skin color mocks our Maker.
It has been fifty years since King’s death. Fifty years of
birthdays. As I turn 60, I knew I had to be in Washington Dc for the ACT to EndRacism Rally. Racism continues to fracture and harm the human family. I am here
to recommit myself to the hard work King called us to engage in: to challenge
and confront anything that creates tombs of death and stands in the way of
justice and fairness, anything that seeks to create second class citizenship,
anything that attempts to deny the dignity and self-worth of any of God’s
beloved children.
Fifty years ago, a gunman sought not to defer a dream, but
to put it to death. But his bullet simply shattered it, so its pieces live on
in those of us who seek to bring healing to the human family, so that every
person is seen as precious, as we create Beloved Community together: that place
whose hallmark is love, justice, compassion and kindness.
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