Today marks 50 years since an act of domestic terrorism: the murder of Rev Dr Martin Luther King. This day carries the weight of that death, as well as the hurt of so much other violence--past and present--that surrounds us and consumes us.
Yes: issues of racism, discrimination and injustice have complex histories in this country. But I have started to see them plainly as variations on bullying.
The depth and violence of America's social bullying struck me with new clarity this past winter when a group of seminary students and I met with Rev. Joe Ellwanger, a retired Lutheran pastor in Milwaukee. Pastor Joe entered the civil rights movement while he was serving a congregation in Alabama in the 60s. He told us the story of an integrated youth event held between two churches back then. Shortly after the youth had met, white supremacists beat the white intern pastor who had organized the event. This young man was left nearly dead, a public warning that the same would happen to others who worked for integration and equality. (For more, see Ellwanger's Strength for the Struggle).
While we may condemn those who resort to such crude acts of violence, those blunt bullying tactics have often succeeded. We learn early and often that people who stand up for things like civil rights, access to healthcare , gender equality, demilitarization, and environmentalism will be routinely bullied in big and little ways. To this day, bullies have effective ways of controlling us, of keeping us from doing what we know is right.
Rather than standing up to this, white people have found many ways to accommodate the bullies, turn blind eyes, minimize the injuries, or blame the victims. White people can pretend that the kind of social violence that killed Dr. King and has oppressed countless others is not our problem. But it is our problem. The same threats and acts of violence that hurt our neighbors also keep us from enjoying life in the Beloved Community that Dr King and other gospel preachers have pointed us to. Those bullying hurts, threats and fears make us strangers to our own most cherished hopes and desires.
But we can stand up to bullies. Dr King, Malcom X, Fannie Lou Hamer, and so many in the civil rights movement and other important causes have given us strong examples. They knew that love is better than hatred. The love of God frees us to know that our self-worth doesn't come from bullies or an uneasy security; our self-worth and the goodness of life come from a creator who loves us. Similarly, love of the neighbor frees us to care about the well-being of others, because we know that we are all connected.
50 years after Dr King's death, I pray for the courage and strength to love. Bullying remains a powerful force, both on the personal and social levels. It has a power that is hard to deny. But love is always better. As Jesus said in the night he was betrayed, "I have said this to you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world!" (John 16:33). He is risen.
Yes: issues of racism, discrimination and injustice have complex histories in this country. But I have started to see them plainly as variations on bullying.
The depth and violence of America's social bullying struck me with new clarity this past winter when a group of seminary students and I met with Rev. Joe Ellwanger, a retired Lutheran pastor in Milwaukee. Pastor Joe entered the civil rights movement while he was serving a congregation in Alabama in the 60s. He told us the story of an integrated youth event held between two churches back then. Shortly after the youth had met, white supremacists beat the white intern pastor who had organized the event. This young man was left nearly dead, a public warning that the same would happen to others who worked for integration and equality. (For more, see Ellwanger's Strength for the Struggle).
While we may condemn those who resort to such crude acts of violence, those blunt bullying tactics have often succeeded. We learn early and often that people who stand up for things like civil rights, access to healthcare , gender equality, demilitarization, and environmentalism will be routinely bullied in big and little ways. To this day, bullies have effective ways of controlling us, of keeping us from doing what we know is right.
Rather than standing up to this, white people have found many ways to accommodate the bullies, turn blind eyes, minimize the injuries, or blame the victims. White people can pretend that the kind of social violence that killed Dr. King and has oppressed countless others is not our problem. But it is our problem. The same threats and acts of violence that hurt our neighbors also keep us from enjoying life in the Beloved Community that Dr King and other gospel preachers have pointed us to. Those bullying hurts, threats and fears make us strangers to our own most cherished hopes and desires.
But we can stand up to bullies. Dr King, Malcom X, Fannie Lou Hamer, and so many in the civil rights movement and other important causes have given us strong examples. They knew that love is better than hatred. The love of God frees us to know that our self-worth doesn't come from bullies or an uneasy security; our self-worth and the goodness of life come from a creator who loves us. Similarly, love of the neighbor frees us to care about the well-being of others, because we know that we are all connected.
50 years after Dr King's death, I pray for the courage and strength to love. Bullying remains a powerful force, both on the personal and social levels. It has a power that is hard to deny. But love is always better. As Jesus said in the night he was betrayed, "I have said this to you, so that in me you may have peace. In the world you face persecution. But take courage; I have conquered the world!" (John 16:33). He is risen.