During spring break last year, our family travelled to Memphis, Tennessee. One of the primary destinations during the visit was the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel where Dr.Martin Luther King was assassinated in 1968. We went to the motel/museum about one week before the 50 th anniversary of Dr. King’s death, which lent a particular poignancy to, and reflection about, the ongoing importance and impact of his legacy. During the trip, we also visited the Slave Haven Underground Railroad Museum—a museum which was far less polished in its appearance, yet still instructive in an important part of our journey as a country. In addition to the obvious link between the history and realized experience of African Americans in our country, the connection for me between the two museums was the role and impact of communication.

Among other things at the Underground Railroad Museum, we learned how the travelers on this harrowing journey to freedom used quilt patterns to communicate directions to their next safe station. Different designs depicted directions, milestones, roads and warnings—using a pictorial code known only to those who were involved. Spoken words were so dangerous that even whispers which might be overheard had significant and dire consequences.

Approximately 100 years later, Dr. King’s words, still based in a desire to seek freedom for those who were oppressed, cost him his life. His words, now spoken aloud, were carefully chosen, poetically delivered, and drew supporters and detractors—as will any communication of substance. His peaceful approach to this most difficult of conversations should have drawn the support of a broad swath of a country that was in crisis. Certainly, those words should have garnered the support of the “white moderate” about whom Dr. King referred in one of his famous writings. Of course, that support did not exist and Dr. King’s dream remained aspirational.

While Dr. King’s life ended because of what he said and what he stood for, the impact of his life and his words certainly continues. At a sluggish, fitful pace, his message is impacting a growing portion of white America that is slowly, yet assuredly, becoming more aware of, and awake to, systemic issues that have always impacted racial relations in this country. Now fifty years after Dr. King’s death, the torch of this conversation about racial equality is being picked up by a growing collective of voices, and I want my voice and the voice of my church to be a part of that shared conversation. While our church was late in joining the chorus of communication declaring the Image of God in all people, we have now adopted a model of reconciliation with all people as a key aspect of our individual and collective spiritual formation. The topic still creates anxiety in many, including myself—the fear of saying the wrong thing in the wrong situation is real. However, I have realized that communicating nothing is just as powerful and just as wrong. My silence speaks just as loudly to my friends of all races about my perspectives and fears. Will I speak out against inequality at the risk of creating instability and anxiety among some who typically don’t experience that feeling? Will I vocally confront and raise concerns about the comments of those with whom I disagree? Will you?

The decision of whether or not to visibly and vocally engage in this conversation is still my privilege and the privilege of the white moderate. How will I and how will each of us respond today to the frustration voiced by Dr. King so many years ago? The answer to that question is one measuring stick of the legacy of the man that we celebrate on January 21 st .

“The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.”

- Martin Luther King Jr.’s (Strength to Love, published in 1963).

Bill Neal is an Elder at Common Ground Northeast. He has been involved in various ministry opportunities including house church leadership, and children’s ministry. He and his wife Carrie have been married for 20 years and have two daughters. He retired from Eli Lilly and Company and in the process of figuring out what is next professionally. In the meantime, he is enjoying the extra time with family and the increased flexibility in schedule!

Celebrating the Life of Martin Luther King Jr. [01.21.19]