MLK: remembering rightly

How does one truly honor the legacy of someone like MLK? Is a national holiday dedicated to volunteer service enough? Does an annual march (even in the bitter cold) suffice? How about putting King’s face on your county logo?

I’m appreciative of all these things, and I know we can’t (or can we?) all be the radical, prophetic agents of change that MLK was (and is). But at the same time, I can’t help but feel a bit hypocritical about affirming King’s legacy while remaining complacent about the very evils he lived (and died) to confront. It seems to me that these annual celebrations and remembrances– while nice and necessary on some level– are also part of a perfunctory charade that actually works to nullify the very spirit of revolutionary activism that defined MLK. 

I suppose most (all?) holidays are like this to a degree- they cheapen the values they were meant observe, they get commodified in a consumptive culture of reductionistic mass media, and they end up the shallow afterthought of a society largely preoccupied with meaningless amusement. But especially for Christians, the MLK holiday seems particularly egregious in this regard.

I’m reminded of King’s famous Letter from Birmingham Jail, in which he delivers this oft-quoted passage:

I am cognizant of the interrelatedness of all communities and states… 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.

But what remains most striking to me about this letter is the scathing critique King levels at the church for its supposed Call for Unity, an attempt to appeal to “moderation and reason” in the struggle for justice and civil rights. The church (and most established institutions, for that matter) almost always reacts to “agitators” like King with a label of “extremism” and a refrain of pragmatism. And this was King’s response (it’s long-ish, but well worth reading):

I have been so greatly disappointed with the white Church and its leadership. Of course there are some notable exceptions…But despite these notable exceptions I must honestly reiterate that I have been disappointed with the Church. I do not say that as one of those negative critics who can always find something wrong with the Church. I say it as a minister of the gospel, who loves the Church; who was nurtured in its bosom; who has been sustained by its spiritual blessings and who will remain true to it as long as the cord of life shall lengthen…

In deep disappointment, I have wept over the laxity of the church. But be assured that my tears have been tears of love. There can be no deep disappointment where there is not deep love. Yes, I love the Church; I love her sacred walls. How could I do otherwise? I am in the rather unique position of being the son, the grandson, and the great-grandson of preachers. Yes, I see the Church as the body of Christ. But, oh! How we have blemished and scarred that body through social neglect and fear of being nonconformist.

There was a time when the Church was very powerful. It was during that period when the early Christians rejoiced when they were deemed worthy to suffer for what they believed. In those days the Church was not merely a thermometer that recorded the ideas and principles of popular opinion; it was a thermostat that transformed the mores of society. Wherever the early Christians entered a town the power structure got disturbed and immediately sought to convict them for being “disturbers of the peace” and “outside agitators.” But they went on with the conviction that they were “a colony of heaven” and had to obey God rather than man. They were small in number but big in commitment. They were too God-intoxicated to be “astronomically intimidated.” They brought an end to such ancient evils as infanticide and gladiatorial contest.

Things are different now. The contemporary Church is so often a weak, ineffectual voice with an uncertain sound. It is so often the arch-supporter of the status quo. Far from being disturbed by the presence of the Church, the power structure of the average community is consoled by the Church’s silent and often vocal sanction of things as they are.

But the judgment of God is upon the Church as never before. If the Church of today does not recapture the sacrificial spirit of the early Church, it will lose its authentic ring, forfeit the loyalty of millions, and be dismissed as an irrelevant social club with no meaning for the twentieth century. I am meeting young people every day whose disappointment with the Church has risen to outright disgust.

Maybe again I have been too optimistic. Is organized religion too inextricably bound to the status quo to save our nation and the world?

I don’t know how to respond to King’s critique except to say that– very sadly– not much has changed since he penned these words of deep wisdom. I want to take MLK seriously, but I’m swimming in a sea of momentarily inspirational sound bites. I want to truly recognize that “we are caught in an inescapable network of mutuality tied in a single garment of destiny,” and live accordingly. Most of all, I want to remember MLK in such a way that transforms my everyday praxis, and the praxis of my faith community that is seeking to march on in King’s footsteps.