Rev. Emma Chattin
January 20, 2008
First Reading ~ From Isaiah 43:18, 19
[And God says…]
“Forget the former things;
do not dwell on the past.
See, I am doing a new thing!
Now it springs up; do you not perceive it?
I will make a way in the wilderness
and rivers in the desert.
Second Reading From Zaid Hassan in The… Axioms of Social Change
Problems are tough because they are complex in three ways. They are dynamically complex, which means that the cause and effect are far apart in space and time, and so are much harder to grasp from firsthand experience. They are generatively complex, which means that they are unfolding in unfamiliar and unpredictable ways. And they are socially complex, which means that the people involved see things differently, and so the problems become polarized and stuck.”
When studying mass social change as a phenomenon there is always a temptation to order events as they happened, in a timeline. Then by implication we assume that one thing follows another and one thing neatly causes another. A very real danger for those wishing to learn from historical social change is the trap of seeing social change in a linear fashion. This is a trap is because we know (for example from research on complex systems) that social change… is less about planning and more about creating the conditions for change. To mangle an old adage, no plan survives contact with reality. Mass social change is messy, unpredictable and often ugly.
Modern institutions are not well suited to the work of catalyzing social change because they suffer from a need for linear and predictable processes. Such processes, in turn, demand that risk be minimized and a plan be proposed, a plan which is often used as a script rather than a point of departure. If we’re being honest with ourselves, then we would recognize the function of a plan is purely psychological comfort in the face of unpredictable and frightening change.
A Creative Dedicated Minority
One of the things I enjoy, sometimes painfully so, is the process of preparing a sermon, a reflection, a talk. I think I know where it is going, and invariably the spirit of creation grabs hold and takes me on what is sometimes a very wild and scary ride. I suppose it’s the spirit of wisdom teaching my soul that a plan is merely a point of departure, a pier extending into the vast, unpredictable, trackless ocean of life, pointing like a finger… offering only a vague direction… “Out There …. Somewhere.”
My reflection for today began in a historical context, and as I looked back, I discovered just how much I miss Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr, and the strong creative minority leaders like him, and my words ended up a lament – a lamentation – a plea expressing grief, mourning, and an earnest yearning for something more. But a lamentation is not an invitation to wallow in pity, but rather it is often an open weeping that enables a person to pick up and move onward. A lamentation is often part of a personal struggle not to look to the past for answers, and dwell on the former things, but it is a cry of hope for the future.
The 1960’s were a wonderfully exciting time of change. Liberation. Freedom. Civil Rights, Women’s Rights, Gay Rights… so many movements unfolded during this time. It’s almost as if there was a great movement of the spirit of liberation. It was also a tumultuous and frightening time of transformation, change, and transition. We can look back now and see what was accomplished during those years, but back then, we had no idea how things would turn out. Having lived through those times, I can tell you that there were many unsettling moments. Moments of fear and doubt, moments when no one was certain what would happen next. It was indeed messy, unpredictable,and occasionally ugly.Still, looking back at all the things we went through, I think we were pretty courageous about it. And we had some wonderfully courageous leaders.
It was a decade of assassinations. President Kennedy in 1963, Malcom X in 1965, Martin Luther King, April 4, 1968, and just 63 days later, Robert F. Kennedy. It’s a wonder we didn’t think the world was coming to an end then. Actually, many did think that, just as many do today, but it didn’t end then, just as it probably won’t end tomorrow.
Looking back does NOT give us a path to follow, but it does teach us where we’ve been, and it CAN tell us when we’ve gotten STUCK… wandering… just going in circles. Because we were entangled then in what many felt was a useless and pointless war. Our best and brightest were dying daily, and every evening the nightly news carried stories about the war that caused the entire nation to reflect on the cost. Many of us vowed then… never again.
It was also a time of a nation deeply divided along racial lines. Segregation. I have heard that there are some in our government today who feel that the Supreme Court of that time, the Congress, and the President of the United States, behaved in an activist manner, and enacted laws onto the majority that they had no right to enact  laws that carried this nation into desegregation far too quickly for their liking. I have heard that these individuals are resentful, critical and bitter, and I fear, seem determined to turn the clock backward in many ways.
What I DO know is this: that if desegregation had been put to a popular democratic vote at that time, the future of this country would have unfolded in a very different manner. Democracy is a wonderful thing, but I will tell you this about the wonderful gift of democracy: the majority does NOT always acknowledge what is in the best interest of the whole. To move forward freely and fairly, the majority NEEDS dedicated creative minorities, and dedicated creative minority leaders. In many ways, these groups and these individuals become the very conscience of a society. And when a conscience is silenced, a person is capable of some very despicable things.
How did Martin Luther King Jr. gather and lead a dedicated creative minority? What made him different? And how did he get things unstuck? And how did he speak in such a way as to gather and unite diverse individuals, and to bring others to put their shoulders to bear to a cause that did not even directly impact them? When I look at the photos from that time, i am filled with hope and a measure of pride when I see the scattering of white faces among those of color. Martin Luther King was the tipping point for a generation, a movement, a people, and a nation.
And…. as I ponder these things… how can i resolve what for me is a troubling dissonance—and that is: how can I genuinely honor and marvel at the Rev Dr Martin Luther King Jr’s artful application of what, for me, now, has become a toxic triad- the mix of social, political, and religious issues. How on earth can I authentically admire Martin Luther King’s powerful accomplishments, while at the same time physically convincing as today’s political figures dare to speak of those three things in the same breath? How can I rationalize that dissonance?
Is it a matter of method? Approach?
Vernon Johns. Has anyone heard that name, and know his significance? He is considered by many to be the founder of the American Civil Rights movement. In 1948 the became pastor of the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church in Montgomery , Alabama. He had the spirit. He taught his son that when you see a good fight, get into it. He had the ideas. But he was often audacious and abrasive in the way he carried them out. When a black man was taken from his car and beaten by white police while other black people stood watching, he berated his mostly middle class congregation with a sermon entitled: “It’s Safe to Murder Negroes in Montgomery”, citing them for their shameful complacency and desire to get along and stay in their small places of comfort. Even though it may have been the truth, that sermon did not go over well.
Vernon was a stubborn, tough, and crusty ol bird, and he had the right ideas, but all too often he simply rubbed people the wrong way.
He preached that African Americans should support each other economically. This led him to open a store in the basement of the church, where money earned by the black community could remain in the black community. However, his people did not appreciate this very practical application of belief. Some even saw it as a profanity, but most were just simply embarrassed.
He was almost constantly at odds with the governing body of the Dexter church. Over his brief and socially active tenure, he submitted his resignation letter a total of five times. It was finally accepted in 1953, and a year later, Dexter welcomed a young minister, one whom the congregation felt was much less radical. A young preacher by the name of Martin Luther King, Jr..
We know his legacy. And he was a man, a human being. And when some people today speak out about his shortcomings and weaknesses, I simply admire him all the more for his humanity, his vulnerabilities, his weaknesses — because I know these things dwell in me, and in all of us, all of humanity — and that gives me great hope, for these things need not hold us back from accomplishing great things.
He was an awesome orator, a person of action, courage, dignity, resolve, and creativity. And he was a leader. A leader worthy of being followed.
Martin’s work is far from finished. His dream is not a reality. It is far easier to fight the signs of segregation nailed on the walls of our institutions- the signs of WHITE and COLORED Âthan it is to fight the insidious and subtle prejudice that lies hidden in the hearts of human beings. But Martin began that work, and it is a work in progress that many of us continue today.
I am a member of many minorities. Gay, Lesbian, Bisexual, Transgendered, Intersexual, and Questioning. I am a member of the minority that believes Peace is the answer, and war is the question. I am a member of the minority that often believe a person’s religion is best seen and nor heard. [ Can i get an Amen? ]
But, dearly beloved community…. I look around today, and I see no one I want to follow. I look around, and the landscape is barren, and the wilderness is deep and incomplete, and I see no one I wish to follow. I feel our nation wandering, lost, misplaced. My voice cries out in frustration. In vain. I see faces on the horizon, but no one I wish to follow. To every generation a liberator. Where is mine? Where is the one who will lead us?
Granted, we generally don’t treat such leaders well. Did we kill them all? We’ve certainly killed most of them. But such leaders must be willing to take those risks, to give and to sacrifice their own life for the liberation of an often ungrateful mass. Such a leader does not search for ways to remain the leader– such a leader searches for solutions. Such a leader does not promise us an easy journey, but they DO promise they will make that journey with us, and before us, in front of us, for all to see.
The words of such leaders are capable of stirring and moving the human heart. Indeed, great oratory can lift the eyes, hearts, and minds of humanity, point them in a direction, and lead them to do great deeds… challenge them… far beyond the individual’s own capability.
Let my people go!
Blessed are the Peacemakers…
We the People…
Four Score and Seven Years ago…
We have nothing to fear but fear itself…
The science of war leads to dictatorship…
We choose to go to the moon…
I have a dream…
I strain my ears. But i hear only hollow rhetoric, and badly mangled language, addictive sad stale sound bites that are like potato chips… auditory junk food…. when instead I hunger for a meal of substance. So I turn my head, I fast in the wilderness. I strain my ears to hear greatness, and I hear no one…. No one who speaks to me, no one who speaks for me. I hear no voice in the wilderness, other than the sound of my own lament. I feel lost, and I hear no one I wish to follow.
But it is not just words. I have heard leaders who speak well, but who talk only
of oppression, who talk of hate and war and killing, who convincingly lay blame
for all the world’s problems at the feet of one small and tiny minority- a minority
who must be obliterated and destroyed, a minority whom we must go, seek out,
and silence in order for us to remain safe and secure.
Such leaders lie, because we are never safe and secure. It is only the illusion they create in order to secure their own place of power. In many ways, it is our conscience that they seek to destroy. Such leaders promise wealth and greatness, victory and prosperity– just as soon the troublemakers have been found, identified, rounded up, imprisoned, tortured, bombed, gassed, murdered, burned, destroyed…..
My leader does not oppress. My leader does not hate. To paraphrase Mahatma Gandhi, my leader leads a cause to die for, but not one to kill for. My leader does not actively wage war but actively seeks the means to achieve peace. Such a leader liberates, sets free the masses, seeks to loosen the chains that bind both the oppressor and the oppressed. I look around, and I see no such liberator today.
My leader speaks well and speaks of freedom, but my leader is also a person of action, reaching out, speaking out, stepping out. My leader does things. I look around. I see no one doing the things that need to be done.
My leader has faith, and while it may be a belief and a faith that strengthens and moves my leader, it is not one that my leader demands that I possess in order for me to be moved. It is not a faith my leader twists and bends to suit their own purposes and ends. I hear leaders today using God, not being used BY God. I hear leaders today wooing the weak and the gullible, the hopeful and the desperate, by repeating the words of religion. O like wicked suitors they come knocking, often saying some of the things I so yearn to hear, but when I open my eyes, they are like empty vessels, and their words are hollow. Their faith misleads.
My leader is one who is constantly and quietly willing to take risk and make sacrifice. Each and every day of their existence. Perhaps this is why most of those who lead me onward do so from the grave. Where are those who sacrifice and risk? I hear only their echoes, the sound of my own lament, and the stillness of the dead.
Indeed a modern day lament, a cry for freedom, a plea for justice, a call for
peace. Where are the ones to lead us? They must, no doubt, be willing to give of
themselves completely.
I think of the words of Hannah Sennesh, she herself a brave, articulate, creative, gifted leader who fought and died for the liberation of her people. She was a Hungarian Jew, and she left the safety and comfort of her Palestinian kibbutz to join the British army to try and liberate Hungarian Jews who were about to be deported to the death camps of Auschwitz. She was arrested at the border, beaten, and tortured, but she refused to give any details of her mission. She was eventually executed. The following lines are from the last poem she wrote after she was parachuted into a liberation camp in Yugoslavia:
Blessed is the match consumed in kindling flame.
Blessed is the flame that
burns
in the secret celebration of the heart.
Blessed is the heart
with the strength to stop its beating for honor’s sake.
Blessed is the
match consumed in kindling flame.
Those words reach across the years, moving into my ears, and moving my
soul. Blessed is the small match that gives up itself to kindle a luminous flame.
Where are such people today? Where are the matches to light the flames of liberation.
The ones who speak and live and risk and sacrifice and die so that others might
live and be free? Have we killed them all? Where are the ones for me to follow?
Do all my leaders, do all the ones I follow, speak to me only from the past?
We can listen, we can learn, we can wait. Throughout the history of humanity there have indeed been horrible oppressive systems in place, deeply ingrained, seemingly timeless and eternal, so vast and powerful that they appear impossible to displace. And yet, ironically, the larger and more pervasive these systems grow, so are sown the subtle seeds for their own rapid destruction. Such huge machines have tumbled down and torn themselves apart, or have been dismantled by the hands of the people, strangely and seemingly overnight…… … like the Berlin Wall… chunk by chunk, in an act that once would have been completely unthinkable. Like the Quit India movement, led by Mahatma Gandi, like the beginning of the human rights movement in Poland led by Lech Walesa, the end of apartheid in South Africa, led by Nelson Mandela, like the quiet and peaceful fall of the former Soviet Union, led by Michel Gorbachev. Like the Civil Rights movement, led by Rev Dr Martin Luther King.
In each of these instances, and countless others, it is not the leader who does these things, but the leader who leads the people to liberate themselves. Martin Luther King said, “Almost always, a determined, creative, minority changes the world for good.” In each case, there was a determined creative minority. Some we know by name, like the Polish group, Solidarity. Others are simply marching and moving nameless faces in a small sea of color. Determined creative minorities. These are the people who change the world. Those who with determination, creatively find the right phrase and the right way to peek behind the curtain, to take down the wall, to shake the foundations, to do the impossible: to liberate the oppressor as well as themselves, to bring down the seemingly indestructible systems of injustice, to lead us out of the wilderness.
I look for my leader. I can only gather with others of like mind, as a dedicated and creative minority, all minorities, and wait.
A leader will rise, not from the outside, but from among us.
Martin Luther King did not move alone.
And neither do we.
We stand
on the shoulders of those who have gone before.
Let us not let them down.