Thursday, April 5, 2018

MLK Memory

I write this on April 4th. It is the 50th anniversary of Martin Luther King, Jr.’s assassination in Memphis. That event was vicious and heinous. It moved me. As it did the nation.


That evening a group of young adults (20's) in our church pulled together a memorial service for Dr. King. Afterward, we went into the nearby neighborhoods of west side Chicago. They were on fire. Looting was raging through commercial districts. The smell of smoke and sound of sirens were constant at my apartment in Oak Park. We visited churches where emergency kitchens were feeding the families burned out of their homes. Those families were housed at the church and at the homes of parishioners. Clothing was located and distributed, too. The communities were coming alive with help and hope.

Back home I wrestled with decisions. My nation had made progress on racism but was still very sick. The death of Dr. King was proof of that for me. I knew I had to do something but at the moment, I did not have any answers.

By morning I had formed a partial decision. I went to work and asked for the day off. I visited my pastor, then found my way via public transportation to Hyde Park and the campus of the University of Chicago. There, Chicago Theological Seminary is located. I entered and applied for admission that fall.

Shortly thereafter I was accepted. I wanted to invent a new ministry, not one rooted in a local parish, but one situated in commerce and industry where cultural challenges could be addressed directly to heal the stress and social illnesses of that age. Racism was first and foremost in my mind. The seminary was very interested in partnering with me on my journey to this new destination. The future held promise.

Thus, I started my adult faith journey. It started 50 years ago today. 50 years! Hard to get my head around a number like that when it is attached to the passage of time.

Recall that Dr. King’s death occurred at a time our nation was in an uproar over the Viet Nam War. Also, the Flower Power Age was rapidly changing youth culture into activism and social change. Much was happening. At its core, however, racism was the horrid beast that wrenched good souls to evil. I had my challenge. I accepted it. And my world changed at that moment.

Today, 50 years later, we are not much moved beyond the markers of 1968. How could that be? We are more educated, better housed, better employed and much more advanced as a society and culture. But are we really?

No. It is as simple as that. We are not better off culturally. We are still a sick nation and racist. The land of the free and brave still does not treat everyone as equal, or love them, or heal them. Our teachings are like blank words on blank minds. And our government representatives are a mirror of this. How very, very sad.

We are a nation of immigrants who politically and by policy do not welcome immigrants. Yet they are us. This is our identity. The difference between racism and anti-immigration is not much. The primary threads are the same. Dr. King would agree.

Our shame is just as great.

We have much to do to correct this situation. It will take big minds and larger hearts to accomplish. Together we can do this. And we must!

April 5, 2018


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