e-Newsletter - January 2007

By Courtney Erwin, Coordinator for Religious Freedom

Like many laws, those that guarantee our civil rights and liberties in this country transcend their constitutional creation and statutory constructions. Yet, there is something exceptional about civil rights, something that distinguishes them from the broad legal corpus that regulates all manner of interaction and governs all aspects of our society. The laws that assure the civil rights of each and every American do not merely regulate or govern our activities; they define the character of our society.

The inimitable quality of civil rights extends beyond their centrality to embodying the ideals and values of our social fabric. For theirs is an emotional and impassioned history. It is one that lives in each letter of legalese, chronicling the struggles and triumphs of nearly every group in the United States.

Each time a woman walks into her office; each time a black family unpacks their luggage in a hotel room; each time a poor person charged with a crime consults with his state-appointed attorney and faces a jury of his peers; each time a person in a wheelchair uses a ramp to enter a building; each time a young activist marches in protest; and, each time a congregation fills its newly built house of worship, it is an affirmation of the necessity of these rights as well as a consolation that all the arrests, all the slander, all the humiliation, all the money, all the attorneys, all of it was worth it.

Additionally, our civil rights imply another significant quality. They seem to arise out of an innate sense of justice and injustice, or an idea that the nature of these rights is an intrinsic aspect of our membership in the American--and human--community, which must be preserved and safe-guarded by the State. In other words, they are squarely rooted in the dignity and humanity of each person.

Perhaps it is the exceptionalism of civil rights that fits so well with Martin Luther King, Jr.'s religious platform, upon which he built his non-violent civil rights movement. King related our nation's civil rights to an authority higher than black folks, white folks, business workers, lawyers, ministers, Congress, and the President of the United States. By doing this, he connected his temporal efforts with a divine purpose, proclaiming, "We will win our freedom because the sacred heritage of our nation and the eternal will of God are embodied in our echoing demands."

In a Birmingham jail, the religious framework that King used in advocating for civil rights moved into territory tragically familiar to us today: extremism. In fact, it was charges of being extreme, leveled by fellow clergy, which prompted his response, a response, however, that those clergy most likely did not expect.

At first, King acknowledged his disappointment that his nonviolent efforts would be seen as "efforts of an extremist." But, then, he happily accepted the extremist label, redefining the term, which allow him to join extremists from his religious tradition as well as notable figures in American history. He asked the clergy: "Was not Jesus an extremist for love? Was not Amos an extremist for justice? Was not Paul an extremist for the Christian gospel? Was not Martin Luther an extremist? And John Bunyan? And Abraham Lincoln? And Thomas Jefferson?"

He then asked a few questions that we would do well to ask today:

"So the question is not whether we will be extremists, but what kind of extremists we will be. Will we be extremists for hate or for love? Will we be extremists for the preservation of injustice or for the extension of justice? In that dramatic scene on Calvary's hill three men were crucified. We must never forget that all three were crucified for the same crime--the crime of extremism. Two were extremists for immorality, and thus fell below their environment. The other, Jesus Christ, was an extremist for love, truth and goodness, and thereby rose above his environment. Perhaps the South, the nation and the world are in dire need of creative extremists."

In 1963, King proclaimed himself an extremist; a civil rights extremist, an extremist for morality, an extremist for love, and a religious extremist. At that time, he thought that not only the United States but the world was crying out for creative extremists. Forty years later, the world is still crying out. A contemporary Martin Luther King, Jr., one who can counter and overcome violent religious extremism with loving religious extremism, is needed in so many parts of the world right now: in the bloody streets of Iraq, in the rural countryside of China, in the favelas or shanty towns of Brazil, and in the cities and towns in Israel-Palestine.

These modern-day Kings must, as the original King did, attach to their compassionate religious extremism an equally zealous devotion to civil rights. Where the seeds of discontent, alienation, and isolation are blooming into violent outrage, civil liberties are conspicuously absent. In order to win the type of freedom that King sought in the 1960s in the United States, a freedom liberated from the suffocating yoke of oppression by a struggle for civil rights, today's religious extremists must be radicals in the way he was: an extremist for love proclaiming a gospel of freedom. The question that we have to ask and strive to answer is, "What must each of us do to encourage this along?"

Rev. Dr. Jeffrey Haggray is the Executive Director/Minister of the District of Columbia Baptist Convention, which consists of 150 churches in the District of Columbia, Maryland, and Northern Virginia. He represents the DC Baptist Convention at the IFC Assembly and is the IFC's Protestant Vice-President. Formerly, Dr. Haggray served as pastor of the Pennsylvania Avenue Baptist Church, and of Mt. Gilead Baptist Church, both in Washington, DC; and churches in Pleasantville, NJ and New Haven, CT. He resides in the District of Columbia with his family.

Martin Luther King Jr.'s devotion to servanthood was rooted in his religion. King believed that following Jesus entailed the imperatives to love God, neighbors, and strangers fiercely, and that those moral imperatives included the requirement to sacrifice one's own life when necessary for the greater good. This caliber of sacrifice is known as servanthood, that is, voluntary service to others motivated by love, which is contrary to servitude, namely, involuntary service mandated by force.

As a child growing up in Ebenezer Baptist Church in Atlanta, young Martin learned Jesus' teaching on greatness: "Whoever believes in me, and the works that I do, will do greater works." That may be why King coined the words, "Anybody can be great, because anybody can serve."

Therefore, when King was confronted in his adult life with the graphic realities of mankind's inhumanity to man, he could not look the other way. Nor could he insulate himself within the sanctuary of the Dexter Avenue Baptist Church--located blocks away from Alabama’s state capital building in Montgomery--after learning that a gentle but firm African American woman (a seamstress named Rosa Parks) had been thrown into jail because she refused to be subjected, any longer, to second class citizenship in her native America simply because of the color of her skin.

When comrades in Montgomery challenged young Pastor King to employ his gifts of the Spirit, a brilliant mind, a silver tongue, a heart of love, and a gospel of uplift in the fight for freedom, King had to consider the teachings of his religion. After praying to God concerning this clarion call to serve others, King had to lay aside his own prerogatives, humble himself, and begin to live forth in real time the words that he had been preaching--all along--from his pulpit.

This writer believes that descriptions of King as a civil rights leader--though well intentioned--neglect to capture the deeply held religious faith that informed the moral vision and character of the man. As a trained theologian and ordained practitioner of his faith, King was driven by a moral vision that encompassed love, justice and liberation for all people. Call it 'the big picture.' King's struggle for civil rights in America was inspired by that grand moral vision. However, civil rights are only an aspect of the big picture since, technically, certain 'rights' can be granted without practicing love, justice, and full human liberation.

Because King's moral vision was rooted in his religious faith, and not shared by all people, King appealed to America’s democratic ideals of freedom, justice, and equality, which lack the most vital moral ingredient found in religion, namely, love. Call it 'the smaller picture.' Nevertheless, the cause of freedom and justice still constituted a huge advance in the American context worth striving for. While modicums of justice and freedom have been achieved in various places at sundry times, the religious project to spread love to all people continues.

By Alex Martini, IFC Intern (Alex is a junior at Thiel College in Greenville, PA. He is interning at IFC through the Lutheran College Washington Semester program.)

Almost forty-five years ago, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. sat alone in a jail cell. On scraps of paper and in the margins of newspapers, he wrote one of the most beautiful, powerful, and touching letters ever written. Letter from Birmingham Jail is King's specific response to specific people concerning specific circumstances. However, his words are as moving and necessary today as they were then.

When I first read his letter, I was aware of the relief that I felt in believing that much of what he recounted concerning the treatment of African- Americans was no longer true. But then I paused. How could I be relieved when African Americans are being profiled by police? How could I rest easy when it may take a Muslim far longer to get through the airport security line? How could I be content with the American prison system and its great racial disparity? How could I be pleased when there are people in the United States without food on their tables or shelter over their heads?

When the education system fails students in bad neighborhoods, when the rich get richer and the poor get poorer, when women in the workplace make seventy-five cents on the dollar, I cannot be so naive as to presume that Dr. King's dream is fully realized.

Injustice still lives. We have taken great strides and have made some progress in many different arenas of public life. But that does not mean that we have come to a point where we can stop working towards the goal of a just society.

King argued in his letter that we can no longer live as independent members of society. All of our lives are connected and we are all interrelated. "Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere." King initially applied this to all citizens of the United States being connected, but we must now take that to mean all members of the community of the world. We are all members of one global society and injustice in one area has consequences the world over.

In his letter, Dr. King warns us about many things. He warns us about the 'white moderate' or, rather, the one who sees and knows what is wrong but does not act accordingly, doing as much harm as the one inflicting the injustice. "We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people." He warns us about the church which, in an effort to maintain the status quo, turns a blind eye to the gross injustice that goes against not only Christianity, but the great faith traditions of the world. He warns us about relegating injustice issues to matters that will play out over time and eventually correct themselves. He reminds us that time is neutral and it is only positive action that changes injustice.

In the midst of his warnings of all the roadblocks that perpetuate injustice, he calls us to action. Dr. King is calling us to be passionate about an issue, a person, or a cause for which we are willing to step outside of our comfort zone and make a difference. We are not expected to solve all the world's problems by ourselves, but we can do something positive.

There are many problems in the world worth fighting for. One could easily become passionate about the awful situation in Darfur that needs both public awareness and public action. The issues of world hunger and extreme poverty pervade every corner of the globe and are in need of advocates willing and called to make a difference. Women do not enjoy the same rights and privileges worldwide as they do here, and even in the United States full gender equality does not exist. Racial injustice abounds domestically and internationally and affects all aspects of daily life. In the United States, we struggle with the death penalty, both the principle of it and the practice of it, which sheds more light on the racial inequality that still exists. We face the ethics surrounding war.

There are many issues working against the just society for which we all hope. While we cannot do everything individually, it is important and necessary to take the steps towards justice. We must use our passions and livelihood to, as Mahatma Gandhi told us, "be the change you want to see in the world." This is what Dr. King asked the eight clergy he responded to almost forty-five years ago. The spirit of his letter asks us to do the same today:

"If I have said anything in this letter that overstates the truth and indicates an unreasonable impatience, I beg you to forgive me. If I have said anything that understates the truth and indicates my having a patience that allows me to settle for anything less than brotherhood, I beg God to forgive me."

By Leonard Swidler

This is our continuation of Leonard Swidler's "dialogue decalogue" guidelines. "Decalogue" means "ten commandments" and refers to what many people call the ten commandments delivered to Moshe (Moses) in the book of Exodus in the Torah.

SIXTH COMMANDMENT: Each participant must come to the dialogue with no hard-and-fast assumptions as to where the points of disagreement are. Rather, each partner should not only listen to the other partner with openness and sympathy but also attempt to agree with the dialogue partner as far as is possible while still maintaining integrity with his own tradition; where he absolutely can agree no further without violating his own integrity, precisely there is the real point of disagreement--which most often turns out to be different from the point of disagreement that was falsely assumed ahead of time.