John 1:43-51

Tomorrow we celebrate the birthday of the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.  I don’t know about you, but I am a little anxious about what might happen, with threats of violence being made by white supremacist groups.  But I can’t help but think how much we need to remember Dr. King’s life, his words, and his cause this year.  We may have come a long way since the work of Dr. King during the Civil Rights Movement of the 1960s, but I don’t think anyone will disagree that we still have a long way to go.

Ten days ago, we witnessed a mob made up of Trump supporters and white supremacists, among others, take over the U.S. Capitol.  Among the hateful emblems present in the crowd was the Confederate battle flag, as well as other symbols of racist groups.  But that event wasn’t something that just happened from out of the blue.  We have seen events leading up to something like that ever since the early days of Barack Obama’s presidency.  Some people just could not stomach the thought of having an African American occupying the White House.

While there were other incidents that drew our attention, two of them in particular stand out in my mind.  The first was the Charleston church massacre that took place on June 17, 2015.  Nine African Americans were killed during a Bible study at the Emmanuel AME Church in Charleston, South Carolina.  That church is one of the oldest black churches in America and it has long been a center for organizing events which are related to civil rights.  Police arrested Dylann Roof for the shootings.  He was a 21-year-old white supremacist who targeted members of the church because of its history and reputation.  Roof wrote of his racial hatred on a website published before the shooting and in a journal written in jail afterward.  He posted pictures on the website of emblems associated with white supremacy and the Confederate battle flag. 

The other incident was the Unite the Right rally which took place in Charlottesville, Virginia from August 11 to 12, 2017.  Protesters gathering in the small town to demonstrate against the removal of Confederate monuments following the Charleston church shooting.  Among others in the crowd were members of the far-right, such as the alt-right, neo-Confederates, neo-fascists, white nationalists, neo-Nazis, members of the Ku Klux Klan, and various right-wing militias.  They chanted racist and anti-Semitic slogans as they marched, carrying weapons, pro-Nazi symbols, Confederate battle flags, and other symbols.  Their goals were to unify the American white nationalist movement and oppose the removal of a statue of General Robert E. Lee from a local park.  On August 12, white supremacist James Alex Fields, Jr., deliberately rammed his car into a crowd of counter-protesters, killing Heather Heyer and injuring 19 other people.  President Trump’s remarks following the rally seemed to imply moral equivalence between the white supremacist marchers and those who protested against them.  He appeared to be sympathetic to the white supremacists.

It is not hard to draw a line directly from these two events to the storming of the Capitol on January 6.  There are large numbers of Americans who are racist, white supremacists and who feel so angry with a government that does not support their agenda that they are willing to use violence to try and overturn an election that went against their candidate.  Some were threatening to hang Vice President Pence, seen as a traitor because he would not take action to overturn the election results (which he had no power to do).  It seems that others were ready to harm or even kill members of Congress.  The hatred of these groups of people had become so inflamed that they believed it was patriotic to try and disrupt the processes defined by our Constitution.

I wonder, though, about the rest of us.  Have we examined our own hearts for signs of racism?  Do the seeds of prejudice not lie in our hearts, too?  Even if we don’t feel like racists, don’t we make judgments of other people based entirely on the color of their skin?  Skin color is a primary – if not the primary – means of identification.  And we make assumptions based on another person’s skin color.  We also make judgments based on a person’s accent, where they were born, what their ethnicity might be, and what political party they belong to.  I am guilty of being prejudiced against the kind of people who were in that crowd at the Capitol ten days ago.

In the story I read from the Gospel of John a few moments ago, we hear about a future apostle who made assumptions about Jesus based on his place of origin.  Because Jesus was from Nazareth, Nathanael made assumptions about him.  After all, Nazareth was kind of a dinky little country village, with a population of about 500 in those days.  It was not on any major trade route and was isolated from the mainstream.  And besides, Nathanael was from Cana, and there was probably a degree of jealousy and rivalry between these two neighboring country towns.  Nathanael made assumptions about Jesus and about Nazareth.  And when Philip came to tell him about Jesus, Nathanael’s first reaction was, “Nazareth!  Can anything good come from Nazareth?”  The unspoken answer was, of course, “No.”

And yet – and yet – Jesus came out of Nazareth.  And Jesus was good, Jesus was beyond good.  Jesus was God in the flesh.  Jesus was the Messiah that the Jews had been waiting on for hundreds of years.  Jesus was the Savior of the world.  And Jesus would soon become Nathanael’s leader and teacher as the twelve apostles took to the road to follow Jesus in his ministry.

We are just as guilty as Nathanael of making assumptions about people.  I first moved to New England in 2002.  I quickly learned that people made assumptions about me based on my southern accent.  They assumed that I was not well educated and that I was a racist.  I took some youth to camp that first winter I was in Massachusetts.  It was during the time that there was controversy raging about South Carolina flying the Confederate flag above the State House.  Thank goodness, the decision was made to take it down.   But while I was at the camp, one of the other adults found out I was from South Carolina and asked me, “So do you really believe in slavery?”  I soon began working on getting rid of my southern accent.

People make assumptions about each other based on their accents, based on the size or shape of their bodies, based on where they come from, based on where they were educated, based on the political party they support, and based on the kind of car they drive.  But more than anything else, people make assumptions about other people based on the color of their skin.  And in this country, people make all kinds of negative assumptions about people who have darker skin than they do.  That is why racial profiling is so commonly used by police departments.

These assumptions are born in the subtle – and not so subtle – racism that is still so prevalent in our country.  People of color are assumed to be less educated, less wealthy, and less likely to be successful than people who are lighter skinned.  They are also assumed to be more likely to commit crimes.  And our racism is not just individual, it is systemic – that means it is embedded in our criminal justice system, our educational system, and in the workplace.  That is why we see incidents of unarmed black men and women being killed by police officers.  It will not just disappear on its own; it will not just go away because we wish things were different.  We need the change the systems, and the assumptions behind the practices.  But the more we do that, the more push-back we are likely to see from white supremacist groups.

I think that is why it is so important to remember Dr. King as we think about our desire to end racism and prejudice once and for all.  We can think about the assumptions we make and work to change them, as individuals and as citizens and as organizations.  I would like to quote from what is probably Dr. King’s most famous speech, made at the March on Washington in 1963:

Five score years ago a great American in whose symbolic shadow we stand today signed the Emancipation Proclamation … But 100 years later the Negro is still not free.  One hundred years later the life of the Negro is still badly crippled by the manacles of segregation and the chains of discrimination.  One hundred years later the Negro lives on a lonely island of poverty in the midst of a vast ocean of material prosperity …

When the architects of our Republic wrote the magnificent words of the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence, they were signing a promissory note to which every American was to fall heir.  This note was a promise that all men – yes, black men as well as white – would be guaranteed the unalienable rights of life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness.  It is obvious today that America has defaulted on this promissory note insofar as her citizens of color are concerned …

Now is the time to make real the promises of democracy.  Now is the time to rise from the dark and desolate valley of segregation to the sunlit path of racial justice.  Now is the time to lift our nation from the quicksand of racial injustice to the solid rock of brotherhood.  Now is the time to make justice a reality for all God’s children …

There are those who are asking the devotees of civil rights, “When will you be satisfied?”  We can never be satisfied as long as the Negro is the victim of the unspeakable horrors of police brutality … We cannot be satisfied as long as the Negro in Mississippi cannot vote and the Negro in New York believes he has nothing for which to vote.  No, No, we are not satisfied, and we will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream …

I say to you, today, my friends, though, even though we face the difficulties of today and tomorrow, I still have a dream.  It is a dream rooted in the American dream.  I have a dream that one day this nation will rise up, live out the true meaning of its creed: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal.”

I have a dream that one day on the red hills of Georgia sons of former slaves and the sons of former slave-owners will be able to sit down together at the table of brotherhood.  I have a dream that one day even the state of Mississippi, a state sweltering with the heat of injustice, sweltering with the heat of oppression, will be transformed into an oasis of freedom and justice.

I have a dream that my four little children will one day live in a nation where they will not be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of their character.  I have a dream … I have a dream that one day in Alabama … little black boys and black girls will be able to join hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers.

Martin Luther King, Jr. had a dream, a dream that he said was based on the American dream.  But it was a dream based, just as clearly, in the teachings of Jesus Christ.  And it is a dream still worth dreaming: that one day we will all learn to be sisters and brothers with each other.  That one day, we will stop looking at the color of each other’s skin as a reason for hatred and racism and violence.  That one day, we will stop making assumptions based on race and start looking at each other’s hearts instead as the true test of character. 

To make that dream come true, we must stand up to white supremacy in our country. We must hold people accountable for their actions. We must join with our brothers and sisters of color to protest racial injustice and discrimination. We must work to rid our nation of systemic racism wherever it exists. And we must learn to love each other with the love of Christ. Only in that way can the dream ever come true.