Rogue Reverend

On MLK Day, 2012

As I sit in a coffee shop reading Dr. King’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail, I am touched (as I am every year) by the way Dr. King turned a phrase, by the visual images in my head, and by the depth and breadth of this call to action.

My favorite word from the piece this year is “somebodyness.” Dr. King writes:

One is a force of complacency made up of Negroes who, as a result of long years of oppression, have been so completely drained of self-respect and a sense of “somebodyness” that they have adjusted to segregation, and, on the other hand, of a few Negroes in the middle class who, because of a degree of academic and economic security and because at points they profit by segregation, have unconsciously become insensitive to the problems of the masses.

And my prayer for today goes like this:

For every time I have forgotten my own “somebodyness,” Loving God, thank you for reminding me that I am somebody. You sent someone or something to remind me of it, and I am grateful.

For every time I have robbed someone of their “somebodyness,” Forgiving God, I ask for your grace and forgiveness. I hope that someone has reminded that somebody of their “somebodyness.”

And may I, Gracious God, be granted the opportunity to recognize and affirm someone’s “somebodyness” today and everyday. Open me the eyes those opportunities and the courage to speak for another’s “somebodyness.”

 

 

MLK and the “Irrelevant Social Club,” a.k.a. Church

Every Martin Luther King, Jr. Day, I take some time to read Dr. King’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail. Although I was raised all over the southeast, Birmingham is home for me.

Nine years ago, I was leading a mission trip to El Salvador, and had arranged for our team to visit the final home of Monsignor Romero, and the chapel where he was killed. We also went to the UCA, spoke with Jon Sobrino, the Jesuit priest who narrowly escaped death during the Salvadoran civil war. It was a day filled with martyrs, being thankful for the sacrifice they had given, for the example they gave, for the love they showed.

I went home to my hotel room that night, sat in front of the Spanish television, and watched all of Spike Lee’s movie, Four Little Girls, recounting the story of the young martyrs of Birmingham, Alabama. People I knew were filmed talking about their relationships with the little girls. And I’d had no idea.

This is one of the most significant moments of my life. I’m not sure if I didn’t pay enough attention to my hometown, or if I willingly disregarded  the pain in my own neighborhood, or if I was just ignorant about the fight in Birmingham, but I vowed to change that. One way is by reading MLK’s Letter from a Birmingham Jail. And every time I read it, I glean something else from it.

Tonight, it was this:

But the judgment of God is upon the church as never before. If today’s church does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early church, it will lose its authenticity, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century. Every day I meet young people whose disappointment with the church has turned into outright disgust.

I wonder if that’s why the church feels so disconnected for me. It feels like an “irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century.” In fact, so much of the church marketing of the 80′s, 90′s, and 00′s has been about making sure that your congregation is a “social club,” although the marketing materials call them “affinity groups.” They told us that they way to success as a church was by putting like-minded people together.

The most REAL relationships I have are with people who I don’t agree with. They are people that I cannot fully understand, because our worldviews are different. We try to understand, but we bump up against differences, and have to decide, over and over again, “I may not understand, but I love.”

MLK continues about the Church:

Perhaps I have once again been too optimistic. Is organized religion too inextricably bound to the status quo to save our nation and the world? Perhaps I must turn my faith to the inner spiritual church, the church within the church, as the true ekklesia and the hope of the world. But again I am thankful to God that some noble souls from the ranks of organized religion have broken loose from the paralyzing chains of conformity and joined us as active partners in the struggle for freedom. They have left their secure congregations and walked the streets of Albany, Georgia, with us. They have gone down the highways of the South on tortuous rides for freedom. Yes, they have gone to jail with us. Some have been dismissed from their churches, have lost the support of their bishops and fellow ministers. But they have acted in the faith that right defeated is stronger than evil triumphant. Their witness has been the spiritual salt that has preserved the true meaning of the gospel in these troubled times. They have carved a tunnel of hope through the dark mountain of disappointment.

I think Dr. King answers his rhetorical question, ” Is organized religion too inextricably bound to the status quo to save our nation and the world?” with the answer, “No.” Every time it stands up for something right, every time it refuses to limit God, every time it opens the doors of the church wider, every time it expands it’s understanding to include all people, every time we try to understand, but we bump up against differences and say, “I may not understand, but I love.”

That church? I want to belong to that church.