Attentiveness: Martin and Mahalia
I was not quite ten years old when I sat on the floor of my parent’s bedroom watching the black and white Motorola television, August 28, 1963. We were in Cincinnati, Ohio, and my parents, if I remember correctly, were intrigued by, if not anxious about, the “March on Washington and what it might mean.”[1]
I vaguely remember Dr. King (age thirty-four) speaking and his rhetoric about “I have a dream.” The language and imagery of “little Black boys and Black girls . . . join[ing] hands with little white boys and white girls as sisters and brothers” can be memorable to a young lad. I remember almost nothing else about the speech. Later I found out it was labeled the “I Have a Dream” speech.
I believe as a Christian it is important to remember, and to continue to remember more deeply and accurately, and increasingly with the mind of Christ. Paul said it so well: “Finally, brothers and sisters, whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, whatever is admirable—if anything is excellent or praiseworthy—think about such things.” (Philippians 4:8, NIV) Holy days (holidays) and saints’ days should be a time to step back and remember with the mind of Christ and the guidance of Paul.
So this year, as I reflected upon the legacy of Martin Luther King, Jr. on the day that celebrates his memory, I read a chapter on Martin Luther King, Jr. from the angle of his struggle with depression; I listened to the speech again, and I looked briefly at some of his writings. I also studied some about his relationships with his many detractors and the special relationship he and his family shared with Mahalia Jackson, one of the greatest singers of the twentieth century. (Do I exaggerate?). I offer one brief vignette about their bond for our reflection:
Dr. King’s academic work focused on the personhood and personality of God as opposed to the more dispassionate and highly philosophical view of God from modern theologians like Paul Tillich. King was not a stoic, but a deeply passionate person driven by truth, justice, peace, and reconciliation as presented in the Scriptures. These unwavering commitments, especially being a reconciler, meant that he was attacked from all sides: from the FBI for being a communist sympathizer; from the Black leaders who pushed to bring change through the use of violence; from white leaders in the South who resisted integration; and from many American citizens when he spoke out against the Vietnam War.
In the face of such opposition he would sometimes sink into depression and had a hard time getting out of bed.[2] On a number of occasions he would listen to gospel songs, often from Mahalia Jackson, and this would revive his sense of purpose and give him courage. He asked her to sing before he spoke at the March on Washington, where she sang the lament, “I’ve been ‘Buked, an’ I’ve been Scorned.” As the story goes (and it has been told by multiple people who were present), his speech had been written employing the metaphor of a “financial transaction”: the Constitution and the Declaration of Independence as a type of promissory note, promising the “funds” as being freedom for all. But when Blacks would go to cash the check, there were insufficient funds to receive “the riches of freedom.”
But Ms. Jackson again inspired King by gently pressing him: “tell them about the dream, Martin.” He had given the “dream speech” multiple times before, and it had inspired many. With Jackson’s prodding, he put aside his manuscript that included the refrain highlighting “the valley of despair,” and transitioned instead to say, “. . . I still have a dream.” The rest is history.
It remains one of the most memorable speeches of the twentieth century, and is worth reading over and over, filled with truth-telling about our nation’s unfilled promises, compassion for the suffering, courage, and a dream. It is replete with a biblical view of justice, reconciliation, peace, transformation, and dreaming.
I am meditating this year on the importance of theology, justice, and the arts (music!), along with loving God with all of your mind. Dr. King earned a master’s and doctorate, and then he applied that thoughtful approach to leading a local church as well as a social movement for greater justice, and to being attentive to the moment in which he lived. At the particular moment when he gave his “I Have a Dream Speech” on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in 1963, he called for a dream that embodies more than a metaphorical financial transaction. It was a dream intended to unite at a time of great division. Though riots transpired in the cities of the United States after 1963, in 1965, the Voting Rights Act was passed by about eighty percent in Congress and the Senate. That dream, at least in part, was realized.
[1] The only other memory I have of watching that television was less than 3 months later, November 22, 1963, when John F. Kennedy was assassinated.
[2] MLK (1929-1968) only lived to be thirty-nine, which we often forget, and he struggled with depression during his short life. See alumna Diana Gruver’s (MASF ’16) Companions in the Darkness: Seven Saints who Struggled with Depression and Doubt (Downers Grove, IL: IVP, 2020).
Dr. Scott W. Sunquist, President of Gordon-Conwell Theological Seminary, is author of the “Attentiveness” blog. He welcomes comments, responses, and good ideas.