Gratitude Monday: No lie can live forever

Today is Martin Luther King, Jr., day in the United States. The third Monday in January has been a federal holiday since 1986; I suppose that’s another line item on the grievance list of White supremacists. Boo hoo.

In March of 1965, King was one of the thousands who marched from Selma to Montgomery; when they reached the Alabama capital, he gave an address that resonates with me particularly strongly today. He began:

“Last Sunday, more than eight thousand of us started on a mighty walk from Selma, Alabama. We have walked through desolate valleys and across the trying hills. We have walked on meandering highways and rested our bodies on rocky byways. Some of our faces are burned from the outpourings of the sweltering sun. Some have literally slept in the mud. We have been drenched by the rains. Our bodies are tired and our feet are somewhat sore.

“But today as I stand before you and think back over that great march, I can say, as Sister Pollard said—a seventy-year-old Negro woman who lived in this community during the bus boycott—and one day, she was asked while walking if she didn’t want to ride. And when she answered, ‘No,’ the person said, ‘Well, aren’t you tired?’ And with her ungrammatical profundity, she said, ‘My feets is tired, but my soul is rested.’ And in a real sense this afternoon, we can say that our feet are tired, but our souls are rested.

“They told us we wouldn’t get here. And there were those who said that we would get here only over their dead bodies, but all the world today knows that we are here and we are standing before the forces of power in the state of Alabama saying, ‘We ain’t goin’ let nobody turn us around.’’

King enumerated continuing goals for marchers—segregated housing, segregated schools, poverty and ballot boxes. The latter are mentioned several times, because they are the keys that unlock all the rest. Then he served notice to all the White folks calling for the 1965 version of “unity” that the kind of unity they want—Black folks kept in their place—is not in the cards.

“The only normalcy that we will settle for is the normalcy that recognizes the dignity and worth of all of God’s children. The only normalcy that we will settle for is the normalcy that allows judgment to run down like waters, and righteousness like a mighty stream. The only normalcy that we will settle for is the normalcy of brotherhood, the normalcy of true peace, the normalcy of justice.

“And so as we go away this afternoon, let us go away more than ever before committed to this struggle and committed to nonviolence. I must admit to you that there are still some difficult days ahead. We are still in for a season of suffering in many of the black belt counties of Alabama, many areas of Mississippi, many areas of Louisiana. I must admit to you that there are still jail cells waiting for us, and dark and difficult moments. But if we will go on with the faith that nonviolence and its power can transform dark yesterdays into bright tomorrows, we will be able to change all of these conditions.”

And here we get to the part that I take to heart:

“I know you are asking today, ‘How long will it take?’ Somebody’s asking, ‘How long will prejudice blind the visions of men, darken their understanding, and drive bright-eyed wisdom from her sacred throne?’ Somebody’s asking, ‘When will wounded justice, lying prostrate on the streets of Selma and Birmingham and communities all over the South, be lifted from this dust of shame to reign supreme among the children of men?’ Somebody’s asking, ‘When will the radiant star of hope be plunged against the nocturnal bosom of this lonely night, plucked from weary souls with chains of fear and the manacles of death? How long will justice be crucified, and truth bear it?’

“I come to say to you this afternoon, however difficult the moment, however frustrating the hour, it will not be long, because ‘truth crushed to earth will rise again.’

“How long? Not long, because ‘no lie can live forever.’

How long? Not long, because ‘you shall reap what you sow.’’

William McCormick/Huntsville Times Archives/Alabama Department Of Archives And History

And this is what I’m holding on to today:

“How long? Not long, because the arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”

I am the most impatient person you will ever know. And seeing the events of the past eight years culminating in the return of the convicted felon to the White House, surrounded by sycophants and toadies has sent me up the walls. I’m infuriated by 95-year-old Nazis claiming the infirmities of age as a defense against standing trial for war crimes. I have been flipping out at the outrageously unqualified nominees for Executive Branch appointments. I scream knowing that Jack Smith had enough on the Kleptocrat to convict him for election interference, but prosecution was obviated by the election. And don’t get me started on Aileen Cannon and Samuel Alito. Having King remind me that—even if I do not live to see it—no lie lives forever and the arc of the moral universe will bend toward justice brings peace to my soul.

My soul needs that peace, and I am grateful for it today, this week and the coming four years. We definitely have difficult days ahead of us and we have many miles to go. Let us all keep our eyes on truth and justice as we march.

 

 

©2025 Bas Bleu