Deering Community Church Sermons

Thursday, March 27, 2008

MLK Jr. and Discipleship January 20, 2008

Scripture: Isaiah 49:1-7, John 1: 35-42

“Well, I don't know what will happen now. We've got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn't matter with me now. Because I've been to the mountaintop. And I don't mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I'm not concerned about that now. I just want to do God's will. And He's allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I've looked over. And I've seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land. And I'm happy, tonight. I'm not worried about anything. I'm not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”
Many of you are familiar with these words of Martin Luther King, Jr., a modern day prophet. As with all prophets there are mountaintop experiences and many, many times of feeling discouraged when it seems no one is listening or people are being critical of what is being preached. In the opening quote, King’s last speech delivered in Memphis on April 3, 1968, this leader of the Civil Rights Movement hinted that he was aware of being a prophet and realized that his words would outlive him as is fitting for words inspired by a Divine Spirit. What was clear in his life and in this final talk was King’s willingness and commitment to doing God’s will whatever the cost.

Our prophet in Isaiah 49 was also aware of his call to be a prophet and committed to getting God’s message to the people, again no matter what the cost. Let me read from the scripture, “And he said to me, 'You are my servant, Israel, in whom I will be glorified.' But I said, 'I have labored in vain, I have spent my strength for nothing and vanity; yet surely my cause is with the Lord, and my reward with my God.” I wonder if there were times when MLK wondered if his work was worth the sacrifice. (You know in the beginning Martin was a reluctant leader of the civil rights movement. It was early in December 1955 right after Rosa Parks had just been arrested for not giving up her seat on the bus. The local NAACP had called a bus boycott and asked King to lead it. I wonder how he must have felt to be asked to assume such an important role in the life of his people and the world. After all he had just come from the academic life, receiving a Ph.D from Boston University—where he had been greatly influenced by Thoreau’s Civil Disobeience and Ghandi’s non-violence; however at that time he may well have been drawn to doing more preaching and teaching as opposed to social activism.)
The Isaiah prophet, in spite of how vulnerable he felt and how much of failure he had been so far, was asked by God to do even greater works. God says that the task he had given him was too light and he was to go on and do much greater things: “be a light to the nations that my salvation may reach to the end of the earth.” (v.6) King also was asked to do something more difficult and much bigger than he had originally planned.

We all have to begin somewhere in doing the work of God, in becoming a disciple. In spite of his fears and trepidations, Martin said yes to lead the bus boycott and went on to become President of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC), the major group leading the nonviolent struggle for justice for African Americans in the South. But this was only a beginning. It would take me many sermons to summarize all of the marches, the arrests, the speeches, the boycotts that were led by this great leader. In 1964 he was honored with the Nobel Peace Prize. What a lot of cheers then, not too dissimilar from how Jesus was hailed with those palms and hosanna’s as he entered Jerusalem on his way to his crucifixion. After King received the Peace Prize, his vision and action became even bolder. He now expanded his concerns to all victims of poverty and violence. That’s when the going really got rough. It was 1965 that he first spoke publicly about the Vietnam war saying that it was accomplishing nothing and that the end should be negotiated, not fought. His first anti-war march was in 1967 in Chicago. At this time he reinforced the connection between war abroad and injustice at home, saying: ‘‘the bombs in Vietnam explode at home—they destroy the dream and possibility for a decent America’’. A little later he addressed a crowd of 3,000 people at Riverside Church in New York City, in a speech entitled ‘‘Beyond Vietnam’’ Pointing out that the war effort was ‘‘taking the black young men who had been crippled by our society and sending them eight thousand miles away to guarantee liberties in Southeast Asia which they had not found in southwest Georgia and East Harlem’’ (King, ‘‘Beyond Vietnam,’’ 143).

All of this upset both the white power establishment as well as the black civil rights movement. The NAACP, for example, issued a statement against merging the civil rights and peace movements. The lack of support in King’s last days from his former partners led him to great despair. He spent his last birthday, 40 years ago last Tuesday, in staff meetings, trying to convince them why they had to bring disenfranchised, low-income people to Washington, D.C. and shut it down. He said, “We live in a sick, neurotic nation, but this campaign is based upon hope. Hope is the final refusal to give up." According to peace activist, Fa John Dear, King held hope and despair in tension, like every great saint and martyr. In his speech when he received the Nobel peace prize he said, "I refuse to accept the cynical notion that nation after nation must spiral down a militaristic stairway into the hell of nuclear destruction, I believe that unarmed truth and unconditional love will have the final word in reality."

The African Americans that surrounded me and my husband in the mid-60’s felt strongly that King’s branching outside fighting just for blacks, but turning to address the Vietnam war and the poverty of all people, caused the power structure to see him as much more dangerous and probably led to his being assassinated. He was shot on April 4, 1968 on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, where he had gone to help secure rights for the Sanitation Workers. The Poor Peoples’ Campaign culminating in another March on Washington was being planned at the time of King’s death and eventually did go on without him.

In the final speech quoted at the beginning of this sermon it was evident that King didn’t expect to live much longer. He had embraced the call from Jesus, that same call we read in our Gospel lesson today to “Come and see” and “Follow me”. From Andrew and Peter to Martin and you and me, Jesus is calling. He is calling us to be both disciples and prophets, a compassionate and loving presence in the world, to challenge injustice and violence, and even to love our enemies. Charles Wong in Prism magazine makes a good point when he says that King’s speaking truth to power is what the Gospel tells all Christians to do. “Without diminishing King’s greatness, I want to suggest that we largely prefer to revere him as a champion of civil rights rather than mere gospel servant. Might we put him on a pedestal as a way to lessen our own responsibility to speak truth to power in our own day?” Yes my brothers and sisters, we are all being called to speak truth to power, to fight for what our faith tells us is right.

King’s last words to his friend, musician Ben Branch, who was to perform at the event King was scheduled to attend that night were: "Ben, make sure you play 'Take My Hand, Precious Lord' in the meeting tonight. Play it real pretty"[1] That was King’s favorite hymn, and it was sung that night as well as at his funeral. As we close our reflection on this great man and what Jesus is calling all of us to do and be, let us sing together, Precious Lord. This hymn was Tommy Dorsey’s greatest composition, written after the death of his wife and new born child. As you sing it, let its words and music fill your heart and soul, knowing that God is always there to strengthen us and comfort us and to lead us on. Amen Precious Lord, Amen.





































[1] Taylor Branch, At Canaan’s Edge: America in the King Years, 1965-68.