The Long Arc of the Universe
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- Created on Sunday, 28 December 2008 00:00
- Written by Margie King Saphier
{player 2008-12-28-11am-sermon.mp3}
I have a Hanukkah story to tell you. A faithful woman had three adult sons. For Hanukkah they decided each would give her a gift during the first three nights. So on the first night, the first son drove his mother to a beautiful mansion and told her he was giving her this mansion to be her new home. The second night the second son arrived at the mansion and took his mother out to the circular driveway and showed her this beautiful new car with a chauffeur and told her this was his gift. The third night the youngest son arrives with a beautiful parrot who could recite the entire Torah without making a mistake. Well, on the last night of Hanukkah, the mother invited her three sons to come visit her in her new home. Over a wonderful bowl of soup, she told her first son, the mansion was beautiful, but the problem was she lived in only one room. She then told the second son, she loved the car but she couldn’t stand the chauffeur. But to her third son, she gave praise “Thank you for giving me a gift I can use! That bird made the best chicken soup! ”Would you like some more?”
I have been waiting to tell that story. Tom Friedman, a columnist at the New York Times told that story. Friedman’s story is not very relevant to this morning’s sermon but it is relevant to the season.
Today I would like to go back to Barack Obama’s acceptance speech for the presidency of the United States. He acknowledged the significance of his historical election when he remembered those throughout history who worked to expand democracy to the African Americans in this nation. He did not evoke names; instead he referenced a quote usually attributed to Martin Luther King, Jr.. Obama called the nation to “Put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day." Obama, like Dr. King before him, and Rev. Theodore Parker before both of them was challenging us to be “keepers of the dream” of justice, equality, and love for all beings.
The following day after the election I received an email from Holli Jones-White with the words
Rosa sat, so Martin could march;
Martin marched, so Obama could run.
Obama ran, so our children can fly.
These words were by a blogger, who simply but eloquently expressed what it meant, at least in my lifetime, to experience or see the arc of universe bending toward justice”
Friday after the election I flew down to Memphis, TN to join my husband Jon, who does consulting work with the Memphis Public Schools. It was 40 years ago in 1968 when Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated while standing on the balcony to his room at the Lorraine Motel. Since that tragic day, the Lorraine Motel has been converted into a civil rights museum, which Jon and I visited.
In the museum is a full-size model of the bus, in which Rosa Parks took her infamous stand not to get up to sit in the rear of the bus. I got on the bus and immediately noticed two sculptures: one of Rosa sitting in her seat looking straight ahead; the other was of the bus driver sitting but turned toward Rosa firmly telling her to move to the back of the bus. Rosa remained silent. I chose a seat toward the rear of the bus behind Rosa. In addition to me, there were four African Americans sitting ahead of Rosa. As I sat there, one of the women told her companions the quote she recently heard:
Rosa sat, so Martin could march;
Martin marched, so Obama could run.
Obama ran, so our children can fly.
She then got up put her hand on the shoulder of Rosa, and said, “Thanks Rosa.” After a moment, she quietly walked off the bus with her friends following her.
I sat there overwhelmed with emotion. I was taken back to 1968, the day after King’s assassination. I was a pubic health nurse in Schenectady, NY. I was walking down the street in my district when Mr. Smith (I have changed his name) came walking toward me. Mr. Smith, an African -American born into poverty, had a long history of alcoholism. As he came closer, I could see his tear-stained face. So I said ever so sadly and sincerely, “Oh Mr. Smith, I am heart-broken too, we’ve lost a great man.” I started to say something else, when Mr. Smith shouted at me, “You can’t understand! They killed him! He’s my man; not yours. You are not black!” I stood there stunned; but I knew he was right. Dr. King and Mr. Smith shared a common history and the daily abuses of racism. I did not share the history of being abused by racism and at worse I had unwittingly participated in it. My thoughts drifted back to Rosa Parks sitting on the bus. After a time, I got up and went over to where Rosa sat and thanked her.
As I continued through the museum, I paid homage to the two Unitarian Universalists who died during the civil rights movement because of their efforts to bring the right to vote to the South: Viola Liuzzo and the Rev. Jim Reeb. The day after the election the UUA sent a dozen yellow roses to the daughters of Viola and to Jim’s wife and adult children in memory of their lasting influence on the country and the UUA. Like Dr. King and Rev. Parker, Liuzzo and Reeb were “Keepers of the Dream” of justice, equality, and love for all beings.
Here is the email from Sally Liuzzo, one of Viola’s daugters, sent after receiving the flowers:
"My daughters who are 19, identical twins born [on an anniversary of my mother's death]......were able to vote for the very first time....to help elect Barack Obama. Sarah...one of the twins, lives in Chicago and was not yet registered to vote there. She flew home to Detroit just to be able to vote for Barack.
"I cannot begin to explain the sense of pride I have right now for my mother and all the civil rights activists of that time. I feel like everything they have fought for, has now been realized. Black children will no longer feel like they are 'less than' and they will now know....they can be ANYTHING they set their minds out to be,
"Here I am crying again.
"Thank you from my sisters and I, for never forgetting our mother. The three of us were totally overcome with emotion. I feel like mom's sacrifice has now been worthwhile. Yes......she made a huge difference. I am so proud of America for getting past the limitations of race, and vote for what is best for our country.
"....Actually we feel like mom reached out...through the UU church...to send those flowers. The yellow roses told us that she had a hand in it. She has a mighty strong spirit....that is alive and well :) Thank you... God Bless, Love," Sally Liuzzo
To be a keeper of the dream does not mean one will die; but it does take a tremendous amount of courage. Every Sunday we light the social justice candle to bear witness to the big and small ways the parishioners of this congregation are keepers of the dream.
Two weeks ago, I attended the workshop Witnessing Whiteness led by Mark Richards and Shelly Tochluk, the author of the book with the same title as the workshop.
The primary question we explored was, “When was the first time you realized you were White?” I should say all of the participants were white. It is an interesting question because it focuses the mind on a myriad of events in one’s lifetime when one’s awareness of being white was present and how we reacted.
Let me give you an example. My thoughts go back to Mr. Smith in Schenectady. There is a another reason he was right when he said, “He’s my man,” meaning I had no claim to Dr. King. Of course none of us can claim another, but we can be a kindred spirit. The last year of King’s life, I had become uncomfortable with his message. I no longer felt we were kindred spirits.
On April 4, 1967 at the Riverside Church in New York City, King declared his dual citizenship to the United States and to the world community – “To the brotherhood of man.” For the first time he publicly declared his opposition to the U.S. waging an immoral war on the people of Viet Nam. King urged us to move beyond “the interrelated flaws of militarism, materialism, and racism.” As a beneficiary of the military industrial complex (my father was an engineer for RCA and designed missiles and anti-missiles),
I found it overwhelming to address the trinity of evils he had named. So instead I asserted my whiteness. Even though I was not for the Viet Nam War, I wanted King to stay in a box in which I perceived him to be. I wanted him to speak ONLY about injustices done to African Americans – where I felt he belonged.
My sharing this moment in time with you is an example of me witnessing my whiteness or recognizing that my perceptions as a white person mentally limited who I thought could or could not be an authority on a topic by virtue of their race. I did not understand this back then. I did not understand how subtle racist thoughts could be in order to justify my sense of being right.
I was not alone in my thinking.
Tragically most Americans in 1967, including liberals, began to pull away their support of Dr. King. During his last year of life, Dr. King called for a “revolution of values” against the extremes of poverty and wealth. He was calling for a major change in how we saw one another so our behavior toward one another would change. Well, Dr. King was right then and his message is even more pertinent today but many of us could not hear his message because we locked King’s message in the smallness of our thinking and our actions diminished also.
BUT, in spite of this smallness in thinking, there were those continued to be Keepers of the Dream. As a result with 2009 just 3 days away, we have much hope. The first African American president, Barack Obama, will begin his term in office in a little more than three weeks.
In this morning’s reading from Rev. Tittle, Angela read that “The arc is the transcendent reality in which there are self-evident truths in which all humankind should enjoy inalienable rights expressed non-violently through compassion and love for all people.” Our choices and actions can be in harmony with this belief, as were Rosa Parks’, James Reeb’s, Viola Liuzzo’s, Dr. King’s, and all the many others who worked for justice and equality in the world.
But I need to be honest and say at times I am not sure that the arc of the universe is a transcendent reality that bends toward justice. I look at the millions in the world who live in extreme poverty in large part because of the trinity of evil that Dr. King named; militarism, materialism and racism. There is Darfur, Zimbabwe, the Congo, the Israeli/Palestinian conflict, the tensions between India and Pakistan, the wars the U.S. is fighting in Iraq and Afghanistan. This trinity of evil is human made. Whether there is an arc of the universe bending toward justice or not, it is up to us to work against the evils of our own making.
I will end with a story that occurred seventeen years ago in my first class at Andover Newton Theological School. The class was Old Testament One. My professor was Mikel Satcher, an African American. His first question to the class was, “Who here considers themselves to be a feminist?” We who were white wanted to know how he defined feminist. He responded, “However you understand the term. I am not looking for consensus, I want to know how many of you consider yourself a feminist as you understand the term.” All the white men and women raised their hands, but the African Americans did not. Then Professor Satcher asked, “How many of you consider yourself to be a womanist?” All the African American women (there were no African American men in this class) raised their hands. And all the white students asked, “What is a womanist?”
One of the women explained that early on in the feminist movement, African American women wanted a voice at the table, but they soon learned that their concerns and their approaches to solving these problem were not the same as the white women and were ignored by the white women. African American women wanted equality not only for women but equality for their sons and daughters, as well as their men. They wanted to work in such a way so their entire community experienced equality. When we white students heard this, we announced we were womanists too. Many of us had grown tired of the adversarial tone of some feminists and we liked the emphasis on community building embraced by womanists. We were immediately told NO we were not womanists and could not be, because we had our own work to do. I was stunned. I did not understand what that work was.
I have repeated this story over and over again. It was a profound moment in my education as a human being. Each time I tell the story I come to understand its ramifications a bit more. But working on the sermon yesterday, I GOT IT!! I FINALLY UNDERSTOOD WHY I, AS A WHITE WOMAN, COULD NOT BE A WOMANIST! My work, as one who sits pretty close to the top on the pyramid of power, is to bear witness to how I benefit daily by the mere virtue of having been born into that unique position and then deciding how I will choose to act. I find this daunting, and I am a neophyte in this journey. After the workshop on Witnessing Whiteness, Mark Richards began an affinity group by the same name so those who choose to do this work can give each other support.
So what about the long arc of universe bending toward justice? I think back to election night and Barack Obama in his exhortation to the people of nation to "Put their hands on the arc of history and bend it once more toward the hope of a better day."
I think about the beginnings of Witnessing Whiteness Affinity Group at First Parish and I think of the many endeavors we bear witness to when the social justice candle is lit . I think back to Dr. King, to Mahatma Gandhi to Rev. Theodore Parker and all the other men and women who throughout history challenged us to be “keepers of the dream of justice, equality, and love for all beings.” And I remember Gandhi’s words, “Become the change you want to see in society.” And I begin to see the long arc of the universe.
And I say AMEN.
Reading
The following are excerpts from the sermon “We Are Keepers of the Dream” by Rev. Matthew D. Tittle.
The words “The long arc of the universe bends toward justice,” which President-elect Barack Obama referred to in his acceptance speech is often attributed to the Dr. Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr. The original quote was written by the Unitarian minister Theodore Parker in 1853 and stated: “I do not pretend to understand the moral universe; the arc is a long one, my eyes reaches but little ways; I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by the experience of sight; I can divine it by conscience. And from what I see I am sure it bends towards justice.”
“This quote and the subsequent dream it evoked are the very essence of liberal religious thought, of which Parker and King were masters. The key here is not in the morality of the universe or in the justice toward which it supposedly bends, but in the arc itself.
Theodore Parker was among the 19th century transcendentalists who believed that there existed an ideal spiritual state that transcends the physical and empirical, and is realized through the intuition rather than the doctrines of established religion.”…
The arc is the transcendent reality of both men’s dreams because they believed within the arc there were self-evident truths in which all humankind should enjoy inalienable rights expressed non-violently through compassion and love for people.