Yesterday
I preached a sermon from 1 Samuel 3 that wondered how prophets such as Martin
Luther King, Jr. are able to hear God speak, able to catch divine visions or
dreams. The sermon was written well before President Trump made his remarks
about immigrants from sh**hole countries.
Those
remarks made me contemplate a different sermon using the gospel reading for the
day instead, John 1:43-51, which includes a comment about how Jesus’ hometown
was considered a sh**hole country. “Can anything good come out of
Nazareth?” But in the end I decided I didn’t want to do an entire sermon on
Donald Trump’s racism.
Still,
the confluence of Trump’s comments, the MLK holiday, and the president’s own
proclamation honoring Dr. King on Friday, still has me feeling that I need to
say something more than I did in worship yesterday. (I did note the gospel
reading and its implications prior to the 1Samuel sermon.) I cannot imagine the
prophet Martin not speaking out when immigrants of color are disparaged while
ones from Scandinavia are lauded.
The
strange contrast of President Trump honoring Dr. King on the day after the president’s
racist remarks makes me worry about King’s legacy. That Trump could honor him
while consistently acting in ways that would have appalled King says something
about how King has become a revered image with much of his prophetic speech
conveniently removed. Increasingly Dr. King is known by a few pithy and
uplifting quotes. His scathing words against moderate whites, his resistance to
the Vietnam War, and his outcry against police brutality are rarely mentioned.
King has been sanitized and domesticated.
There
are too many photographs and too much TV footage for King to be stripped of his
blackness. Were that not the case, he could perhaps be made blonde and
blue-eyed, totally domesticated in the manner of Jesus. Have you ever seen a
depiction of Jesus as African and been jarred by it? But a fair-skinned, blonde-haired, blue-eyed Jesus seems fine?
There
is no better way to rob prophets and Messiahs of their power than by
domesticating and honoring them. I fear that is happening to Dr. King, and I
know it has already happened to Jesus. That people can profess to be Christian,
followers of Jesus, and still loudly support Donald Trump, who so often stands
diametrically opposed to Jesus’ teachings, reveals a Christianity that honors
and celebrates Jesus without taking seriously anything he says.
Jesus
reserved his most scathing remarks for wealth and for smug, respectable
religious leaders. He came from a sh**hole part of Palestine and was happy
to spend much of his time hanging out with those whom respectable people thought
were sh**holes. He had special concern for the poor and oppressed, insisted
that his followers not defend themselves when struck, demanded love of enemies
as well as friends, and required disciples to give up their own good and
willingly embrace suffering for the sake of his ministry. That Christians so
seldom look like this is an indictment of the Church and of the religion that
claims the name Christ.
+++++++++++++++++++++
Last
year I saw the Oscar nominated, 2016 documentary I Am Not Your Negro, based on an unfinished manuscript by James
Baldwin. (If you’ve not seen it, it will be airing soon on PBS.) Baldwin has
never become enough of an icon that there’s been much need to domesticate him.
He remains a figure of his own telling, his own words, unlike King, who is
being transformed into a comfortable, benign Negro who is no threat to the white,
American status quo.
The
real Dr. King terrified much of white America, and many of his words would
terrify people still if they were spoken aloud and celebrated. So too Jesus terrified
the powers that be in his day. Jesus was no sweet, saccharine Savior interested
only in granting tickets to heaven for those who “believed in him.” He
proclaimed the coming reign of God, a new day when the poor and oppressed would
be lifted up and the rich and powerful pulled down. And he warned those who
would follow him about honoring him without doing as he said. “Not everyone who
says to me, ‘Lord, Lord,’ will enter the kingdom of heaven, but only the one
who does the will of my Father in heaven.” (Matthew 7:21)
If
Christians are to wear that name in any meaningful way, and if America is to
honor Martin Luther King in any real sense, we will have to un-domesticate them.
We must listen to them speak. We must let them startle and challenge us. We
must let them change us, or they have become little more than empty symbols.
They are neither prophet nor Messiah. They are idols, pocket talismans we
expect to bless us on demand.