Forty Years in the Wilderness

Sermon

Fifty years and six weeks ago, Rosa Parks refused to get up from a bus seat in Montgomery. She died mere months ago. Fifty years ago today, the Montgomery bus boycott was in its early stages. Twelve years later Dr. King was shot and killed in Memphis. 2008, only two years from now, will be the fortieth year since his death.

Forty is a religiously significant number. Forty days and forty nights of rain. Forty days in the wilderness. Forty years in the wilderness journeying towards the promised land. We cannot speak about Dr. King’s life and death without owning the way faith charged his life and his work.

Many of you are familiar with the strange coincidence of his Mountaintop speech, the evening before his death. In that speech, he reviewed great moments in intellectual and Christian western history, and said considering all the great moments, from the Exodus out of Egypt to dehating with Socrates in the Athenian Agora to Luther’s declaration of his 95 theses and more, and said of all those seminal and exciting moments, he would ask, if he could, to be born when he was and to live in this time even for just a few years. He pointed out that this might seem a strange choice given all the sickness and trouble in the country. But then he said that we can only see stars when it is truly dark, and that in those dark times he saw God working and people responding, not only in Memphis but also in South Africa and Kenya snd New York City. Living in that time forced people to grapple better with issues people had struggled and lost with throughout history, because now survival demanded it. Moved by his studies and encounters with people from the followers of Ghandi to Malcom X, he said that it was no longer a choice between violence and nonviolence in this world, it was a choice between nonviolence or nonexistence. And that in the human rights revolution, if the colored peoples of the world were left to suffer in poverty, hurt and neglect, the whole world is doomed. And so he was glad and grateful that God had allowed him to be part of what was unfolding in the American south at that time. The truth of that vision is clear now in new ways to us – he was entirely right then, and even more right now.

Towards the end of that speech, he referred to some recent and explicit death threats, saying:

"Well, I don’t know what will happen now; we’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn’t matter with me now, because I’ve been to the moiuntaintop. I don’t mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life – longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And he’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over and I’ve seen the promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land. And so I’m happy tonight; I’m not worried about anything; I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord."

The mountaintop he’s referring to, of course is Mt. Nebo, the top of Pisgah, of Deuteronomy 34. I don’t need to liken him to the first great prophet of the Hebrew Bible, others have done it before me, even he did. The context we need to bear inmind, however, is that chapter 34 is the last chapter, the end, of Deuteronomy. The very next pages begin the book of Joshua, who had been chosen to take over and lead the Israelites into the promised land of which Moses was only given a glimpse, albeit a far-reaching one. Their forty years in the wilderness were almost over, some battles were left, but they were almost there.

We are not almost there. The forces of prejudice and selfishness, have become sneaky and subtle, the firehoses and dogs are put away, but those privileged people who care only about themselves and the people just like them still wield other weapons, even legislation with its great power for good or evil. Prejudice and selfishness are not eradicated; their practicioners are not even always ashamed of themselves. They creep or parade among us all, poisoning us and our government and the systems of our country and we grapple with them on every plane, from marches in our capital to secret conversations in the depths of our souls.

I don’t know if we have a Joshua. It’s not Minister Louis Farrakhan that’s for sure. Not even Jesse Jackson, important as he has been in this struggle. I’m afraid we have no Joshua, which makes it harder, but puts the burden squarely where it belongs, on all of us who have been directed to, shown, the promised land and where it lies. We can’t afford to wait around for someone to pick up Dr. King’s mantle. And let me say that though I would hope for a black Joshua, we are all Israelites in this: whites and blacks, American Christians and American Muslims and American Jews and American Hindus and Wiccans and Humanists and Unitarian Universalists, we are all bound together, one great herd looking toward a land we have anticipated and yearned for, one we desperately need in order to survive. And we can see which steps leads toward it and which steps away. We may not have a map and Joshua may not be among us, but we can each of us and all of us together take steps in the right direction. With only ourselves to rely on, it appears it will take us longer to get there but if we’re all moving there, some of us are going to arrive there.

That said, we are not close. Though we have only a little over two years left until our forty years is over, we are not close and our exodus will surely take much longer. We are reminded by everything from the nightly news to our music this morning that there is indeed much to forgive, and fear that grows into hatred, and mountains loom before us as do storms and rain and pain. Rosa Parks’ body lay in state in our nation’s capital building, but probably more importantly the black caucus of Congressional legislators on the hill is woefully small. Still we believe, because we have been shown, shown green shoots of the sister- and brotherhood of humanity, and the sweet fruit which they yield when nurtured: true admiration and appreciation for both the poignant sameness and intoxicating difference humanity offers to those like Dr. King, determined to harvest goodness and honor rather than distrust and disrespect from this rich and varied world.
Our service opened with one of Dr. King’s favorite hymns, There Is A Balm in Gilead. Gilead was the land directly north of Mt. Nebo – not actually part of the promised land, but a nation that figurese prominently in bible history – a place of sanctuary for some, site of cities rife with riches and sin and opportunity for others. We may know, along with Dr. King, that living in a land not unlike Gilead where evil and good are everywhere for the taking, that there is a balm here which is the great love of great leaders who give everything unto their very lives, who have died for all, to make humanity just and free.

This very service today is one such step. We come together to learn and celebrate each others’ ways and traditions, to honor the greatness and enduring message of a man who transcended differences not only between people in this country, but across our planet. We reach out and say: teach us. We reach out and say: regardless of color and heritage, this is part of our country’s story, this is part of who we all are. We reach out in hope and uncertainty to say: there is too much to bind us for us to remain torn asunder. We declare, we who are gathered here because we yearn and commit to peace and justice, that we will not be moved from that commitment. Today we sing of it. Tomorrow we may write or work for it. The next day we may teach it to our children or our parents. We will vote for it. We will march for it. We will lobby for it. We will reach out to strangers and welcome them when they reach out to us. We will use every means at our disposal and allow no one to dictate any path other than these steps, these many, many steps we must all take together. We will march, step by step, towards the land that has been promised us, not by divine fiat but by our own aspirations and human pain and the prophecy of great leaders.

One more step, we will take one more step, till there is peace for us and everyone we’ll take one more step.

Amen.