The late 1950s and early 1960s were a time in our nation’s history when turbulence and peace seemed to reside next to each other. Peace for those who embraced the Eisenhower days and celebrated the U.S. in its distinctions from all other nations. Primarily, the Russian communists. It was in 1954 that the words “one nation under God” were added to the pledge of allegiance. The slogan “In God We Trust” became emblazoned on the very currency that we tendered to one another for all of our goods and services. In fear and trembling at the prospect of the communists, the U.S. charted a path that has ultimately led us to the place that we now fear that the Constitution may be abrogated by a lawless authoritarian.
And yet, most of us simply complain to our spouse or coworkers about our rights and privileges being suspended in the midst of a global pandemic.
Where are the voices of warning for what may be a crisis of democracy?
Today some of our cities are nightly alight with fire. We are able to view the violence perpetrated by both law enforcement officers and protesters alike. People are attacked viciously by teargas wielding people in full combat gear who seem to be guided by the slogan “Give no quarter!”
Those on the other side use weapons like laser pointers to blind the others. They break whatever is breakable and throw teargas canisters back to their owners.
Where are the voices who cry out, “Enough!”
In that troubled time during our history when African Americans did, in fact, cry out “Enough,” there was also the cry of “Freedom!”
That word rang through our nation like a clarion call to action. Nearly 400 years of oppression and abuse had finally run its course. “Freedom” was the call that demanded a response from the powers that had for far too long held the sword of power over the necks of the powerless. There was a Voice who shouted from the halls of power and in the streets of our cities. That Voice cried out in the wilderness where the deaf ears of the white structures that held up the paper walls of segregation. But, it was heard plainly by those oppressed and downtrodden.
There was something else very different in that Voice that shouted, “I have a dream!” And, this is a difference that I do not hear during these days of unrest that reveals all to clearly that the wounds of 400 years of abuse and oppression have not healed. They were merely ‘scabbed’ over. The continued murder of innocent black people at the hands of militarized law enforcement has effectively scratch the scab off and allowed the wound to reopen.
Martin Luther King, Jr. was a man singularly suited to his day. He was a highly educated man with searching mind and heart. His vision viewed things far afield that others of his day could not see. That little spot on the horizon that Martin saw, that he dreamt of, was a time when all of humankind would be equal. It was a place where segregation and Jim Crow were artifacts left to the dust of history, blown away by the Wind of the Spirit of Peace.
And, especially, where Love reigned in Freedom.
Martin’s love for his enemy was ever present in the words that he used to motivate others. Without love, agape love, he realized that his Dream could only come as a nightmare. Without love, agape love, those who considered him their enemy would always consider him that.
Without love, agape love, there was no hope for the future other than the dust and ashes left behind by the raging wars fired by hatred.
He realized that the only way to achieve that lofty Dream was to travel the same path as another person who had upended history.
In the middle of the 20th century a small, brown man in a loin cloth watched the Sun finally set on the British Empire. Mohandas K. Ghandi, a man educated in Britain, realized that there was no way that force could possibly uproot and throw the weeds of that great empire on the compost pile where it belonged. His gaze was as far reaching as Martin’s. He saw his people finally rid of the segregation and unfair taxation imposed on them. How could this dream of his be realized? He was only one person against an empire.
He found an answer to this perplexing problem by, himself, looking to One Who had come before.
“Love your enemies,” Jesus taught.
“Bless those who curse you.”
Jesus’ words were carried forward by others, like the apostle Paul. “Love is the fulfillment of all of the Law.”
“But now faith, hope, love, abide these three; but the greatest of these is love.”
With these words singing in his ears, Ghandi led a people to their promised land where freedom finally reigned.
Martin learned from the Mahatma. He studied Ghandi and meditated on his words while contemplating the words of Jesus. In both, Martin found wisdom and peace. More importantly, he saw a solution.
In what he termed “Non-violent direct action,” Martin taught a generation to stay their hands. He required those who followed him to recognize that they were not going to go quietly into their night. There was nothing passive about his resistance. Violence was never to be used on any perceived ‘enemy.’ Like Ghandi before him, he told his followers that there would be bloodshed. But, it must always be our own. Never theirs. These brave women and men knew going in that dogs and batons were likely. The late John Lewis attested to this after his skull was fractured on that Bloody Sunday. Martin assured those who looked to him for strength and leadership that they would be handcuffed and thrown into dirty, roach infested jail cells.
There was nothing ‘passive’ about any of this.
Martin’s mantra, “Love those who despise you and treat you badly,” while difficult to adhere to, ultimately won the battles of his day.
So, I write this today and I wonder, Where is that Voice?
Who will sound the trumpet and call people together in order to Love our enemy and, thereby, not only defeat the systems, the Powers and Principalities who allow evil and hatred to flow unhindered into our lives, but also lead our enemies into bonds of love and friendship?
It’s been said that Hatred begets more Hatred. That is all too true. The more people fight and carry weapons and shout at their enemies while the spittle runs down their chins, the more that insatiable appetite of Hate will devour friend and foe alike.
As Jesus, Ghandi, and Martin for our inspiration and guides, let that Voice sound loudly and clearly throughout our cities and across the countryside,
“Freedom!”
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