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Listen Now!
Rev. Anya Sammler-Michael
On April 16, 1963, Martin Luther King Jr. wrote a long and passionate letter addressed to his dear fellow clergymen.
After years of engaging the struggle for civil rights with a commitment to nonviolent resistance – after months of separation from his family, after weeks of sleepless nights, after long court battles, and numerous stays in jail, after a lifetime of oppression and a life in segregation, his struggle was condemned in bold print in a local paper. This was one among many rejections, but this one he felt he must answer, as it raised in him such righteous indignation that he couldn’t be silent.
Martin Luther King read the advertisement, while sitting in
solitary confinement, in the Birmingham
jail. Eight clergymen wrote it from
eight major religious faiths. It
denounced his struggle as unlawful, it called him an extremist.
The clergy advocated for a slower process, for legislation
before demonstration, and for the faithful to obey the rule of law.
Of all Martin Luther King’s writings, each eloquent in its
own right, I find the Letter from a Birmingham Jail the most stirring. For one he is speaking directly to a
religious community that had forsaken him and the movement. But what’s more he is speaking from the seat
of the struggle for equal rights and freedoms.
Birmingham
was not the first center for civil rights demonstrations – but it was the
ground for the most decisive battle.
There, protesters faced a virulent and proud opposition, armed with and
comfortable using fire hoses and angry dogs.
When a federal court order banned segregated parks, “Birmingham closed down its parks and gave up
its baseball team rather than integrate them.”
This was a city where the National Association for the Advancement of Colored
People was banned as a ‘foreign corporation;’ a city where city officials
campaigned on a segregationist ticket proclaiming their pride in “knowing how
to handle the Negro and keep him in his place.”
Let’s begin to listen to some segments of this letter, a
letter thats roots dug into this commanding oppression; a letter that answered
a reluctant clergy who saw no good in nonviolent demonstrations.
“My Dear Fellow
Clergymen,
…Injustice anywhere is
a threat to justice everywhere. We are caught in an inescapable network of
mutuality, tied in a single garment of destiny. Whatever affects one directly,
affects all indirectly…
I have earnestly
opposed violent tension, but there is a type of constructive, nonviolent
tension, which is necessary for growth. Just as Socrates felt that it was
necessary to create a tension in the mind so that individuals could rise from
the bondage of myths and half-truths to the unfettered realm of creative
analysis and objective appraisal, we must see the need for nonviolent gadflies
to create the kind of tension in society that will help men rise from the dark
depths of prejudice and racism to the majestic heights of understanding and
brotherhood…
Lamentably, it is an
historical fact that privileged groups seldom give up their privileges
voluntarily. Individuals may see the moral light and voluntarily give up their
unjust posture; but, as Reinhold Niebuhr has reminded us, groups tend to be
more immoral than individuals.
We know through
painful experience that freedom is never voluntarily given by the oppressor; it
must be demanded by the oppressed…”
Looking back the struggle for civil rights seems so clear
cut. Our nation’s laws and customs opposed basic morality. They had to be challenged and
overturned.
I ask myself and I hear others ask themselves, what is our
battle today? What injustice are we
neglecting that future generations will recognize as glaringly obvious?
Or are our times different? Is there less at stake?
Though I am one who has been guilty of reticence, I cannot
answer yes to either of those questions.
Our society is slowly, so very slowly working towards a true democracy,
and though we have made awesome strides, we are none so removed from the
follies of our past.
Injustices are perpetuated as a matter of course by the
powerful.
Payday lenders prey on low-income people, especially
minorities and seniors, exploiting an unconscionable rate of interest from the
most vulnerable of our population. The
struggle there is for economic justice.
Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual and Transgender individuals are
denied the right to marry and in Virginia
they struggle against discrimination in housing, and fight for the right to
share health, and life insurance, and to make end of life decisions for their
partners. This is a struggle for equal
rights.
Immigrants who arrived illegally, but have been welcomed
with open arms by our corporations are suffering a process of alienation. Laws in towns, counties and the state have
been and are being drafted to prevent anyone who has arrived here illegally
from using public libraries and services.
And if the most recent bills pass no state agency or local government
will be able to provide any documents, information, or literature in any
language other than English. The
struggle for immigrant rights is a struggle for the preservation of human
rights and dignity.
Many of us wonder how to proceed. To work for equal rights, economic justice,
and human dignity, laws must be overturned.
We have to re-evaluate and challenge the comfortable authorities of the
past. How can this be done without
disrupting too much – without giving in to the pale of anarchy?
When the clergy challenged King by saying “How can you
advocate breaking some laws and obeying others?” he responded:
“The answer lies in
the fact that there are two types of laws: just and unjust. I would be the
first to advocate obeying just laws. One has not only a legal but a moral
responsibility to obey just laws. Conversely, one has a moral responsibility to
disobey unjust laws. I would agree with St.
Augustine that "an unjust law is no law at all."
Now, what is the
difference between the two? …
Any law that uplifts
human personality is just. Any law that degrades human personality is unjust.
All segregation statutes are unjust because segregation distorts the soul and
damages the personality. It gives the segregator a false sense of superiority
and the segregated a false sense of inferiority. Segregation, to use the terminology
of the Jewish philosopher Martin Buber, substitutes an "I- it"
relationship for an "I-thou" relationship and ends up relegating
persons to the status of things. Hence segregation is not only politically,
economically and sociologically unsound, it is morally wrong and awful.”
Segregation as a legal and public force was overturned. Our courts no longer advocate separate but
equal. But our society is not so easily
transformed. In King’s autobiography he
repeatedly claims that the injustice of segregation lives in the social system,
the way of life. It is for this reason
that he advocated a social movement. The
movement needed the courtrooms, but the gains would have been benign if the
whole of the country were not somehow engaged with the transformation.
Separate is unequal – If our courts advocate and our society
accepts different policies and privileges for our gay and straight populations
– we have advocated and accepted inequality.
If our legislature prescribes and our society accepts laws that prevent
our Spanish speaking population from accessing state or local governmental
information and aid – we have legislated and accepted inequality. If our legislature does not prevent payday
lenders from charging astounding interest rates, rates that trap our most
economically unstable population in impossible debt – we have legislated and
accepted inequality.
In Birmingham, where
inequality was a way of life, a Unitarian Universalist congregation was
involved in the movement – in fact they were one of the only ‘white’
congregations in Birmingham
to offer support. When James Reeb, a
Unitarian Universalist minister and civil rights marcher, was beaten by an
angry mob of racists in Selma Alabama,
he was taken to Birmingham
for treatment, only to die a short while later.
Then when hundreds of Unitarian Universalists including the Associations
Board of Trustees traveled to Selma for the memorial service and later for the
march, the Birmingham congregation installed extra phone lines, met people at
the airport, fed people, put people up overnight, arranged busses … and in the
midst of this threw a membership Sunday to welcome 25 new members and a
kick-off dinner for their pledge drive.
You might say that the Birmingham
congregation integrated – it did the work of social justice while doing the
basic work of maintaining itself as an institution. But more so, it did not shy from
tension.
This is a model of support that the Unitarian Universalists
of Sterling have emulated, especially in working with the ADAMS
center, a local Muslim organization. And
this is a model of support that
enables us to engage in the work of transformation … And this is
the model of support that King was asking for, from the Birmingham jail:
“… I must confess that
over the past few years I have been gravely disappointed with the white
moderate. I have almost reached the regrettable conclusion that the Negro's
great stumbling block in his stride toward freedom is not the White Citizen's Councilor
or the Ku Klux Klansman, 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 cannot
agree with your methods of direct action"; who paternalistically believes
he can set the timetable for another man's freedom; who lives by a mythical
concept of time and who constantly advises the Negro to wait for a "more
convenient season." …
We will have to repent
in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad
people but for the appalling silence of the good people…”
King reminds us that the church has been a defender of the status
quo when it could have been an advocate for justice. I was honored when this community responded
with praise to my piece in a local paper on Immigrant rights. On Martin Luther King Day, Scott, my husband
and I will travel with other liberal religious leaders both lay and ordained to
our state capitol, Richmond, to visit our legislators and advocate for
immigrant and gay rights, as well as economic justice. And when I do, we will speak with this
congregation's convictions in mind – indeed
they will give me the courage to speak for justice.
Later this year we will rebuild our social justice committee
and with renewed vigor determine how we will engage with tension to enable
transformation. Let us be vigilant in our efforts, unafraid of upsetting our
way of life – encouraged not by a calm society, but by the promise of a free
and democratic nation.
And today, and all days, may we find inspiration in the
words and work of Martin Luther King Jr. without whom we may not have ever
known the sort of America
that now seems so obviously right.
From Birmingham
he concludes with a testament to the heroes of social change. And it is fitting that today his words close
out our sermon.
“…One day the South
will recognize its real heroes. They will be the James Merediths, with the
noble sense of purpose that enables them to face Jeering, and hostile mobs, and
with the agonizing loneliness that characterizes the life of the pioneer. They
will be old, oppressed, battered Negro women, symbolized in a seventy-two-year-old
woman in Montgomery, Alabama, who rose up with a sense of dignity and with her
people decided not to ride segregated buses, and who responded with
ungrammatical profundity to one who inquired about her weariness: "My
fleets is tired, but my soul is at rest." They will be the young high
school and college students, the young ministers of the gospel and a host of
their elders, courageously and nonviolently sitting in at lunch counters and
willingly going to jail for conscience' sake. One day the South will know that
when these disinherited children of God sat down at lunch counters, they were
in reality standing up for what is best in the American dream and for the most
sacred values in our Judeo-Christian heritage, thereby bringing our nation back
to those great wells of democracy which were dug deep by the founding fathers
in their formulation of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence.
Let us all hope that
the dark clouds of racial prejudice will soon pass away and the deep fog of
misunderstanding will be lifted from our fear-drenched communities, and in some
not too distant tomorrow the radiant stars of love and brotherhood will shine
over our great nation with all their scintillating beauty.
Yours for the cause of
Peace and Brotherhood,
Martin Luther King,
Jr.”
Amen, and May it be So.
Rev.
Gordon Gibson: Southern Unitarian Universalists in the Civil Rights Era -A
Story of Small Acts of Great Courage - A Presentation by the Rev. Gordon D.
Gibson under auspices of the Unitarian Universalist Historical Society at the
General Assembly of the Unitarian Universalist Association June 23, 2000, Nashville,
Tennessee
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