Paschal Moon: Harsh and violent grace

Fifty years ago today, the Reverend Doctor Martin Luther King, Jr., was assassinated at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis. He had gone there to support the strike by black sanitation workers protesting gross inequities in pay and provisions for safe working conditions.

The evening before, King had delivered a speech in which he called (as he always did) for unity, economic actions, boycotts and nonviolent protests. “The issue is injustice,” he said. “The issue is the refusal of Memphis to be fair and honest in its dealings with its public servants, who happen to be sanitation workers.”

It’s actually so painful to read his words from 50 years ago, and know that they describe the events of today.

“Somewhere I read of the freedom of assembly. Somewhere I read of the freedom of speech. Somewhere I read of the freedom of the press. Somewhere I read that the greatness of America is the right to protest for rights. And so just as I said, we aren’t going to let dogs or water hoses turn us around. We aren’t going to let any injunction turn us around. We are going on.”

As someone who called out failures in the system, and urged the country to do better, to be better, King routinely received death threats, and in fact his flight to Memphis had been delayed due to a bomb threat. He also dealt with these realities in his speech.

“Well, I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it really doesn’t matter with me now, because I’ve been to the mountaintop. And I don’t mind. Like anybody, I would like to live—a long life; longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go to up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the Promised Land. So I’m happy, tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. ‘Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.’”

A minute after 6pm on the night of the 4^th, a .30-06 round crashed through King’s head, and he was pronounced dead about an hour later. He was 39 years old.

Robert F. Kennedy, whose older brother John had also fallen under a sniper’s round not five years before, was campaigning for the presidency; he was flying to Indianapolis when he was told about the assassination. He ignored the notes given him by his speechwriters and spoke from his heart to a largely African-American crowd, who learned about King’s death from Kennedy. He told the audience that he understood their loss and their rage, and he urged them to follow King’s teachings and not turn their pain and fury into violence. In this speech, he quoted a variant of this passage from the Greek poet-playwright Aeschylus’s Agamemnon:

Zeus, who guided mortals to be wise,

has established his fixed law—

wisdom comes through suffering.

Trouble, with its memories of pain,

drips in our hearts as we try to sleep,

so men against their will

learn to practice moderation.

Favors come to us from gods

seated on their solemn thrones—

such grace is harsh and violent.

Riots did indeed break out across the country, but Indianapolis remained calm.

King’s favorite song was “Precious Lord, Take My Hand”. The legendary Nina Simone sang it at his funeral, so I’m giving it to you here, on the 50^th anniversary of our great national loss.

Aeschylus and gospel: my entries for National Poetry Month, Day 4.