Excerpts from a speech given to the 21st MLK Anniversary Banquet, Ebenezer Baptist Church, Rocky Mount, NC, August 2007:
Sometimes
people ask me, “Where would Martin King be on the issues now?”
And I answer like this. Isaiah the prophet spoke of justice by the
spirit eight centuries BC. Eight hundred years later, when the same
spirit was upon Jesus, he spoke the same thing that Isaiah had spoken
800 years earlier.
If
Martin Luther King were alive, you don’t have to wonder he’d
be doing the same thing now that he was doing then.
And
so, if we need anything today to honor Martin Luther King, we need a movement, not just a monument.
Martin
Luther King not only challenged the system, he challenged us. He
challenged narcissistic hopelessness that can get a hold of us
sometimes, the kind of hopelessness where people start trading dreams
for death, and brains for bullets, and futures for fighting.
He
challenged those who don’t vote, even though somebody died for
you to have the right to vote.
He
challenged those who get into positions, and then forgot how they got
into those positions.
That’s
what Martin dreamed about. He dreamed about a movement.
Martin
wanted this nation to be true to what it said on paper. We hold these
truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.
We
need a movement.
That’s
why we put together this 14-point agenda, with the help of all of you
and 78 organizations came together. Five thousand people marched on
Raleigh and we going to be back next year with hopefully 10,000
people, and we’re going to keep coming, and coming and coming,
until the agenda is enacted.
We
need a movement.
Martin
Luther King rooted his determination in a grand hope. Though he was
clear about injustice, he was not delusional. He knew that we are
saved by hope, and he had like all of us these moments when despair
would set in. But the spirit would revive his soul again.
If
you listen to his speeches he would say, “sometimes I feel
discouraged. It seems like all my works are in vain. But then the
holy spirit comes, and revives my soul again."
Oh,
Martin had hope. I’ve often considered the marvelous message
Martin left with us on his final mission to Memphis. In the face of
incredible odds and unrealized dreams, in an America that was full of
rage and racism, simply because black people decided they would not
take any longer the humiliation and degradation of segregation and
second class citizenship. In the face of this, Martin Luther King on
his final night spoke to us of a vision, from the mountaintop.
Call
it mystic, call it mysterious, call it dramatic. Martin, like Moses
thousands of years before him, caught a glimpse of the promised land.
Somehow his words that night bore the truth that he would not make
it. He knew that America was sick unto death with a virus that would
seek out and destroy anyone who would not allow her to perpetrate the
myth of the land of the free while millions of her black citizens
remained unfree.
Whether
he knew the next day, the next week, or the next year would be his
last living moment with us, that wasn’t important. But what is
important is what we hear in his message from the mountaintop.
Martin’s
mountain was not the mountain of escapism. Martin did not see the
promised land from the heights of comfort and convenience. Martin was
not in some hideway Camp David while the world was going to hell in a
hand-basket. No, he was in the midst of the struggle. His aides were
mad at him. They thought it was too risky for him to be in Memphis.
The FBI was after him. There were a certain number of white folk who
couldn’t stand him. They said he was always sticking his nose
in places it didn’t belong. And then there were some scared
Negroes who didn’t like him. Yet Martin was in Memphis because
something had gotten a hold of him, that said when God’s
children are in trouble, one cannot ask the question, “What
will happen to me if I help them?” But one has to ask the
question, “What will happen to them if I don’t help
them?”
And
he said that Martin was not on the mountain of comfort and
convenience, he was on the mountain of controversy. He was fighting
for freedom, fighting for justice, fighting for righteousness. There
are those who want to see Martin as merely a good dreamer and a good
speaker, but that’s dangerous, I tell you.
Dr.
C. A. Lincoln said, “Don’t put that on Martin.” In
his book, “Race, Religion and the Continuing American Dilemma,”
he said we cannot allow America to mythologize Martin Luther King.
You don’t really have to deal with a myth. You don’t have
to come to terms with a myth.
But
Martin wasn’t a myth, he was a man, flesh and blood, hurt and
be hurt, he bled like we bleed. But God got a hold of him. And God
gave him the kind of power to say to America, “Put your money
where your Constitution is, put your money where your mouth is.”
And he stood flat-footed, and spoke the truth like the prophets of
old.
Somebody
said he got caught up in what the Greeks call kairos, which is God’s
time, what the Germans call the zeitgeist, the spirit of the times,
what my grandmamma called the holy ghost. When it gets a hold of you,
you’ll do what you thought you couldn’t do.
Yes,
Lord, he had hope, the kind of hope that the slaves had when they
sang, “Nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen. Nobody but my
Jesus.” But then they would get a little hallelujah in there,
and then they would say, glory, glory, hallelujah.
And
so Martin’s message said something to us. I read his whole
speech in preparing for this speech, and I found 13 words in that
last speech that we ought to hear tonight, and those words were
simply this: Martin said, “When I look at everything that’s
going on, and I see all that’s happening around us,”
Martin said that last night in Memphis, “nothing would be more
tragic than for us to stop at this point."
And
I declare we need to hear that in 2007.
I
believe we’re going to need to hear it in 2008.
“Nothing
would be more tragic than for us to stop at this point."
Because
Martin knew that righteousness is a marathon, and righteousness
demands a movement.
Martin
knew that we must keep on keeping on. He said he might not get there
with you, but we as a people will get there.
That’s
hope, isn’t it?
There
he was in Memphis, a PhD helping garbage workers, everyday people,
believing they could make a change.
That’s
hope isn’t it?
He
said, “Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the
Lord.”
“I’m
not fearing any man.”
That’s
hope, isn’t it?
...Every
time Martin marched, he was hoping somebody. And we still need hope.
Hope
that though right is bruised, it will win every time.
We
still need hope.
Weeping
endureth through the night, but joy sure comes in the morning.
We
still need hope. It’s good, more powerful than evil.
All
over North Carolina, somebody is looking for hope.
If
I can hope somebody, as I pass along, then my living shall not be in
vain.
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