Have We Come So Far?
Monday last, several friends and I made the short pilgrimage to the Martin Luther King, Jr. Memorial.
A short pilgrimage for us, anyway: all of the people in my group live in the Atlanta area.
And we are all white.
What amazed me, on this my first pilgrimage, was how many people had come from so far away and from so many diverse places around the country. Some came only to pay homage, some with a political agenda, others to mourn, and others to celebrate. But they converged on common ground around a common legacy.
The legacy of Dr. King and Medgar Evars and so many others of that time in our country's history was to once and, hopefully, for all, actualize the constitution. To fully realize what the words of the document intended, even if the authors of the words intended otherwise. It's no mystery that our founding fathers and mothers were slave-owners. What is a mystery is that my world, the world of the white male, is not as different for me now as it was for them. Not ideologically, not functionally. Maybe only circumstantially.
However, thanks to the sacrifices of those involved in the Civil Rights movements of the 50's and 60's (and ongoing since!), the life of the African-American is dramatically different than it was when the Constitution was penned.
Have we arrived? Is this the democratic Utopia that the framers of the Constitution envisioned? Surely not, but we are closer. Much closer. Closer to realizing the prayer of Jesus in John 17, "...that they may be one as we are one...May they be brought to complete unity..." A troublesome passage for me because I see little true unity in the world. The kind of unity Jesus meant when he said "...I in them and you in me." I see denominations and factions and divisions within the Church and without. I teach in a school without a single African-American student. I attend a church that is Wonder Bread white with other "pilgrims" seeking refuge from downtown Atlanta. I wonder sometimes if Jesus prayer that night in the garden actually went unanswered. Or maybe God had something else in mind. Maybe, just maybe, it's not God's desire to "make" us unified. Maybe it's our duty to find a way to unify ourselves.
The pilgrimage for my people has been a short one. We've changed little and continue to fight against change. But for the Kings and the Evars and all who follow in their wake, the pilgrimage has been long, painful, and is as yet incomplete.
How do I know?
The "Christian" who lives in the house next to me still flies the 1956 Georgia state flag with the Confederate emblem prominently displayed.
The pilgrimage is not over.
Grace and Peace.
A short pilgrimage for us, anyway: all of the people in my group live in the Atlanta area.
And we are all white.
What amazed me, on this my first pilgrimage, was how many people had come from so far away and from so many diverse places around the country. Some came only to pay homage, some with a political agenda, others to mourn, and others to celebrate. But they converged on common ground around a common legacy.
The legacy of Dr. King and Medgar Evars and so many others of that time in our country's history was to once and, hopefully, for all, actualize the constitution. To fully realize what the words of the document intended, even if the authors of the words intended otherwise. It's no mystery that our founding fathers and mothers were slave-owners. What is a mystery is that my world, the world of the white male, is not as different for me now as it was for them. Not ideologically, not functionally. Maybe only circumstantially.
However, thanks to the sacrifices of those involved in the Civil Rights movements of the 50's and 60's (and ongoing since!), the life of the African-American is dramatically different than it was when the Constitution was penned.
Have we arrived? Is this the democratic Utopia that the framers of the Constitution envisioned? Surely not, but we are closer. Much closer. Closer to realizing the prayer of Jesus in John 17, "...that they may be one as we are one...May they be brought to complete unity..." A troublesome passage for me because I see little true unity in the world. The kind of unity Jesus meant when he said "...I in them and you in me." I see denominations and factions and divisions within the Church and without. I teach in a school without a single African-American student. I attend a church that is Wonder Bread white with other "pilgrims" seeking refuge from downtown Atlanta. I wonder sometimes if Jesus prayer that night in the garden actually went unanswered. Or maybe God had something else in mind. Maybe, just maybe, it's not God's desire to "make" us unified. Maybe it's our duty to find a way to unify ourselves.
The pilgrimage for my people has been a short one. We've changed little and continue to fight against change. But for the Kings and the Evars and all who follow in their wake, the pilgrimage has been long, painful, and is as yet incomplete.
How do I know?
The "Christian" who lives in the house next to me still flies the 1956 Georgia state flag with the Confederate emblem prominently displayed.
The pilgrimage is not over.
Grace and Peace.
