Introduction
The year was 1968. The place: Memphis, Tennessee. Elvis Presley is living at Graceland in Memphis with his family, celebrating the Grammy he had just won for his gospel album, “How Great Thou Art.” In the minds of many, Presley is “The King.”
But in March of that year, another King came to town. The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. traveled to Memphis to lead a march in support of city sanitation workers. These 1,300 workers, most of whom were black, had been on strike for safer working conditions, higher wages and equal treatment.
Unfortunately, several militant groups turned the march violent, and King announced over a bullhorn to the crowd, “I will never lead a violent march, so please, call it off.” Then he promised to come back to Memphis in early April to lead a march that is nonviolent.
King returned to Memphis on April 3, 1968. Several death threats had been directed at him, and tensions were high, but he felt it was important to press ahead and speak at a rally on behalf of the workers. In the course of his address, which turns out to be the last speech he will ever give, he tells the story of an earlier attempt on his life, one that brought him perilously close to death. According to Ralph Abernathy, his friend and successor, Martin Luther King Jr. stood up that night and “preached out” his fear.
I want to share with you what Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. preached for the last time…
Move 1
Several years ago, I was in New York City autographing the first book I had written. While sitting there autographing books, a demented black woman came up. The only question I heard from her was, “Are you Martin Luther King?”
I was looking down writing, and I said yes. And the next minute I felt something beating on my chest. Before I knew it I had been stabbed by this demented woman. I was rushed to Harlem Hospital. That blade had gone through, and the X-rays revealed that the tip of the blade was on the edge of my aorta, the body’s main artery. And once that’s punctured, you drown in your own blood, that’s the end of you. It came out in The New York Times the next morning, that if I had sneezed, I would have died.
Sometime after the operation, after my chest had been opened and the blade taken out, they allowed me to move around … and to read the mail that had come in from all over the states and the world. Kind letters had come in. I read a few, but one I will never forget.
I had received telegrams from the President and Vice President, but I have forgotten what those messages said. I received a visit and a letter from the Governor of New York, but I forgot what was said. But there was another letter that came from a young girl at the White Plains High School. I looked at that letter, and I will never forget it. It said simply, ‘Dear Dr. King: I am a ninth-grade student at the White Plains High School. While it should not matter, I would like to mention that I am a white girl. I read in the paper of your misfortune, and of your suffering. And I read that if you had sneezed, you would have died. I’m simply writing to you to say I’m so happy you didn’t sneeze.’
And I want to say tonight, that I [too] am happy I didn’t sneeze. Because if I had sneezed, I wouldn’t have been around here in 1960, when students all over the South started sitting in at lunch counters. And I knew that as they were sitting in, they were really standing up for the best in the American Dream.
If I had sneezed, I wouldn’t have been around in 1962, when Negroes in Albany, Georgia, decided to straighten their backs up. And whenever men and women straighten their backs up, they are going somewhere, because a man can’t ride your back unless it is bent.
If I had sneezed, I wouldn’t have been here in 1963, when the black people of Birmingham, Alabama, aroused the conscience of this nation and brought into being the Civil Rights Bill.
If I had sneezed, I wouldn’t have had a chance later that [same] year to tell America about a dream that I had had.
If I had sneezed, I wouldn’t have been in Memphis [tonight] to see a community rally around those brothers and sisters who are suffering.
I am so happy I didn’t sneeze.
Move 2
“I am so happy that I didn’t sneeze,” proclaimed Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Meaning if he had not remained very still, very calm and very peaceful during that attempt on his life, he would not have been part of one of the greatest movements for justice and equality our nation has ever known. Not that King took personal credit for his survival. He gave all the glory to God.
In his autobiography he wrote, “If I demonstrated unusual calm during the attempt on my life, it was certainly not due to any extraordinary powers that I possess. Rather, it was due to the power of God working through me.
Throughout this struggle for racial justice I have constantly asked God to remove all bitterness from my heart and to give me the strength and courage to face any disaster that came my way.
This constant prayer life and feeling of dependence on God have given me the feeling that I have divine companionship in the struggle. I know no other way to explain it. It is the fact that in the midst of external tension, God can give an inner peace.”
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In the course of his life, Martin Luther King Jr. walked through many dangers, toils and snares, yet through it all he had the very same faith as the writer of Psalm 139, the ancient poet who said to the Lord, “You hem me in, behind and before, and lay your hand upon me. Such knowledge is too wonderful for me; it is so high that I cannot attain it” (vv. 5-6).
This truth was known by Dr. King in an unimaginable tumultuous time in history, and it is the same truth being given to us in the unimaginable tumultuous time in history we are in today.
Life is fragile and full of danger, but we can draw comfort from the knowledge that God is with us, in all that we do. In the midst of external tension, God can give an inner peace that gives us courage and confidence, inspiration and insight, serenity and strength. It is a peace that frees us to do God’s will and follow Christ’s ways.
To be clear though God’s peace doesn’t protect us from pain and suffering; it doesn’t shield us from the hardship that comes from taking bold stands for God in a world that so often resists God’s ways.
Evidence of such can be seen in the short life of King, whose death by an assassin’s bullet came just one day after this speech in Memphis. God’s peace didn’t give Dr. King long-life, but God’s peace was life-long, nonetheless. God’s peace never failed him. This peace enabled him to say to the Lord, the words of Psalm 139, “I come to the end. I am still with you” (v. 18).
God’s peace made all the difference in Dr. King’s work for racial justice. God’s peace always frees us—frees us to do God’ will.
Move 3
God’s peace was given to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr., and God’s peace is given to each of us. How we chose to live out from such freedom though, is up to us.
God’s peace and freedom can make it so that we don’t think much about this weekend, and all that it represents. God’s peace and freedom can make it so that we think that equality and justice for all has come for all, when really it hasn’t. But God’s peace and freedom can also free us to work for what we believe in—to speak truth to power, to ask hard questions of others and ourselves and demand truthful and honest answers of others and ourselves.
Dr. King knew this all too well on the night before his own death. This is evident in the conclusion of King’s speech when he said the following…
It really doesn’t matter what happens now. I got into Memphis this morning, and [people] began to talk about the threats that were out on me… about what might happen to me from some of our sick white brothers.
Well, I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it really 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.
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.
Conclusion
“I come to the end—I am still with you” (Psalm 139:18). These are the words of David, but they express the emotion and commitment of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. as well, because even though the end of his life came far too soon, his “end” was not the end. There remains work to be done. And as the Psalmist tells us, all along the way in doing that work God will be with us.
Not freeing us from all troubles and toils, not clearing the road for all that we think is good and right—rather God will be there to give us peace amidst the struggle so that we can continuing doing what is good and right.
Like Martin Luther King Jr., we’re never going to be free from adversity. But we are always free to serve God in every time and place and situation—and serving God will always bring the peace of knowing God is with us…even to the end. Amen.
Pastoral Prayer January 20, 2020
God of all, we bow our heads this day, and this weekend, in remembrance:
We remember the peaceful warriors, like Martin Luther King Jr., through whom you have worked to increase dignity and liberty for all.
And so, in the midst of our remembrance we turn to you again knowing much has been done to bring about acceptance and equality, but the task is not yet complete.
And because it is not yet complete, we pray you will equip us mightily, that we may continue the work of freedom in the cause of peace.
Create in us a thirst for justice from the horrors of bigotry, that we will strive willingly to comprehend complex issues and to train ourselves and our children in the ways of respect and acceptance and dignity for all.
Work in our hearts, and in the hard hearts of many—work in your teachings and your ways so that if we judge people we do so not by the color of their skin, but by the content of their character.
Enlighten our eyes, that we may see one another as you see us: beloved children, forgiven sinners, trying to make our way through life as best we can.
Prevent us (consciously or unconsciously) from denying anyone the chance to pursue their dream simply because their gender, their race, their sexual orientation, or their ancestry doesn’t conform to our expectations.
Deliver us from that “hardening of the attitudes” that refuses to listen and learn, and by so refusing, condemns us to repeat the sins of the past.
Help us forgive one another, advocate for one another and delight in one another, that through us the world may see all the colors of your creation in a new and holy light.
May that be how you equip us O God so that what we do becomes a response and a continuation of the work and ministry we remember this weekend.
And we pray also for the days ahead that your peace will prevail around our country as one presidential administration passes its power to another. May it be a peaceful transition that gives a clear demonstration to all of us, and the world, that peace is the best way forward.
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We ask that you now hear the prayers we need to offer in this time of Holy Silence.
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All this we pray in the name of Christ Jesus, who taught us to pray saying, “Our…”