Verily I say unto you, “Inasmuch as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” Matthew 25:40
Recently, I had the opportunity to visit the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel in Memphis, TN. As most of you know, this was the place where Dr. Martin Luther King was assassinated in 1968. That terrible event took place on my 11th birthday. Even though I was in the safety of my home and far removed from the turmoil in Memphis, I can still remember being worried about what all of this meant and how it might impact me and my family.
Sadly, my thoughts were self-focused. It didn’t dawn on me at the time to wonder how that event was impacting the black community in Memphis and elsewhere. You see, in the place where I grew up everybody primarily looked like me – white. So I was insulated from the plight of the black community and their fight for equality. Over the years, I have grown in my understanding and am grateful for those who took a determined but non-violent approach to bring much needed change. Nevertheless, I know that my understanding is incomplete and in some respects always will be. How can a white man who grew up in the south ever fully grasp what the civil rights struggle means to those of color?
So as I stood there before the Lorraine Motel and looked at that iconic sign, I found myself wondering what the African Americans nearby were feeling? Were they angry? Were they sad? Were they grateful? It didn’t seem appropriate at the time to ask, so I was left with my questions. But I did know what I was feeling. I was sad that there were and still are people who think violence is the way to get what they want. I was grateful that race relations have improved since those days in the 60s but aware that there is still a long way to go. I was embarrassed as a white person to know that some people of my race had such hatred in their hearts and that some still do. I was troubled to think that there are some in the black community who carry a similar hatred in their hearts toward whites but encouraged to know that they are not in the majority. And I was humbled by the reminder that there are those whose commitment to a more just society is not swayed by threats and are willing to die if necessary for the sake of others in oppression.
A visit to the National Civil Rights Museum at the Lorraine Motel is something that I highly suggest everyone to make. But don’t go as a tourist. Don’t go merely as a history buff. Go with a heart that is open to experience and learn. You will be the better for it.