I picked the drum major instinct sermon to abridge and read for my congregation this Sunday, along with some observation at the end, not because of the controversy around the quote on the memorial, but because it is a beautiful, prayerful and relevant sermon that resonates today as much as it did fifty years ago. The sermon is based on Mark 10.35-45 and was preached about 2 months before King’s death. Here’s how it was preached this morning:
Let it Be Said
This MLK weekend is special in several respects. Today is King’s birthday and people all across the world will be having a candlelight vigil for unity among the non-violent movements for social change. We have a lot of people in the streets, all around the world. Whether it’s brave folks in Syria or Russia or the United States, there are people non-violently seeking change and freedom and King lingers in the mind of people here and all around the world. So tonight right after youth group, at the Community House, at 7 o’clock, we will have a brief and impromptu candlelight vigil to join with a worldwide movement for peace, justice and unity. All of you are welcome to attend. I imagine there will be some prayers, some silence and some music. You should come.
But there’s another landmark, literally, surrounding this MLK weekend. It’s the first one after the dedication of the MLK memorial on the Washington Mall. When King stood on the steps of the Lincoln memorial in the national mall, and told the gathered thousands that he had a dream, many told him he shouldn’t be there, including friends like Bobby Kennedy, and I don’t think anybody thought that one day he too would have a memorial near this monument to liberty and freedom.
But even today it isn’t done without controversy. Yes there are still racists who despise what King stands for, but the nature of the monument itself calls into question whether this nation has wrapped its head around what King was trying to say to them. The central quote of the monument is a symbol of this – not only is it taken grossly out of context, it isn’t even his words. It says, “I was a drum major for justice, peace and righteousness.” Maya Angelou thinks it makes him sound arrogant, and it conveys the opposite of what he was preaching when he said something similar. In light of the controversy, a committee has been formed to change the quote. You may have read about this, it was just announced. Fortunately for me, it just adds relevance to what I had chosen to read for you today. This week I spent time reading, rereading and abridging King’s “Drum Major Instinct” into a shorter version for today’s worship.
I picked this sermon not because of the misquote on his memorial, although this will help you understand what he was saying about being a drum major. I picked this sermon because he is preaching from the gospel, preaching the word of God and preaching to a church, not that different from this one here: A church of Jesus Christ concerned with truly living out the call and ministry of Jesus in the world. To understand King, you have to see him foremost as a pastor. It is fundamental to his identity and leadership. So let us return to today’s scripture, but do it in the words of Dr. King. Here we go:
‘The setting is clear. James and John are making a specific request of the master. They had dreamed, as most of the Hebrews dreamed, of a coming king of Israel who would set Jerusalem free and establish his kingdom on Mount Zion, and in righteousness rule the world. And they thought of Jesus as this kind of king. And they were thinking of that day when Jesus would reign supreme as this new king of Israel. And they were saying, “Now when you establish your kingdom, let one of us sit on the right hand and the other on the left hand of your throne.”
Now very quickly, we would automatically condemn James and John, and we would say they were selfish. Why would they make such a selfish request? But before we condemn them too quickly, let us look calmly and honestly at ourselves, and we will discover that we too have those same basic desires for recognition, for importance. That same desire for attention, that same desire to be first. Of course, the other disciples got mad with James and John, and you could understand why, but we must understand that we have some of the same James and John qualities. And there is deep down within all of us an instinct. It’s a kind of drum major instinct—a desire to be out front, a desire to lead the parade, a desire to be first. And it is something that runs the whole gamut of life.
And so before we condemn them, let us see that we all have the drum major instinct. We all want to be important, to surpass others, to achieve distinction, to lead the parade. Alfred Adler, the great psychoanalyst, contends that this is the dominant impulse. Sigmund Freud used to contend that sex was the dominant impulse, and Adler came with a new argument saying that this quest for recognition, this desire for attention, this desire for distinction is the basic impulse, the basic drive of human life, this drum major instinct.
When we were in jail in Birmingham the other day, the white wardens and all enjoyed coming around the cell to talk about the race problem. And they were showing us where we were so wrong demonstrating. And they were showing us where segregation was so right. And they were showing us where intermarriage was so wrong. So I would get to preaching, and we would get to talking—calmly, because they wanted to talk about it. And then we got down one day to the point—that was the second or third day—to talk about where they lived, and how much they were earning. And when those brothers told me what they were earning, I said, “Now, you know what? You ought to be marching with us. You’re just as poor as Negroes.”
And I said, “You are put in the position of supporting your oppressor, because through prejudice and blindness, you fail to see that the same forces that oppress Negroes in American society oppress poor white people. And all you are living on is the satisfaction of your skin being white, and the drum major instinct of thinking that you are somebody big because you are white. And you’re so poor you can’t send your children to school. You ought to be out here marching with every one of us every time we have a march.”
Now that’s a fact. That the poor white has been put into this position, where through blindness and prejudice, he is forced to support his oppressors. And the only thing he has going for him is the false feeling that he’s superior because his skin is white—and can’t hardly eat and make his ends meet week in and week out.
And not only does this thing go into the racial struggle, it goes into the struggle between nations. And I would submit to you this morning that what is wrong in the world today is that the nations of the world are engaged in a bitter, colossal contest for supremacy. And if something doesn’t happen to stop this trend, I’m sorely afraid that we won’t be here to talk about Jesus Christ and about God and about brotherhood too many more years.
But this is why we are drifting. And we are drifting there because nations are caught up with the drum major instinct. “I must be first.” “I must be supreme.” “Our nation must rule the world.” And I am sad to say that the nation in which we live is the supreme culprit. And I’m going to continue to say it to America, because I love this country too much to see the drift that it has taken. God didn’t call America to do what she’s doing in the world now. God didn’t call America to engage in a senseless, unjust war as the war in Vietnam.
But let me rush on to my conclusion, because I want you to see what Jesus was really saying. What was the answer that Jesus gave these men? It’s very interesting. One would have thought that Jesus would have condemned them. One would have thought that Jesus would have said, “You are out of your place. You are selfish. Why would you raise such a question?”
But that isn’t what Jesus did; he did something altogether different. He said in substance, “Oh, I see, you want to be first. You want to be great. You want to be important. You want to be significant. Well, you ought to be. If you’re going to be my disciple, you must be.” But he reordered priorities. And he said, “Yes, don’t give up this instinct. It’s a good instinct if you use it right. It’s a good instinct if you don’t distort it and pervert it. Don’t give it up. Keep feeling the need for being important. Keep feeling the need for being first. But I want you to be first in love. I want you to be first in moral excellence. I want you to be first in generosity. That is what I want you to do.”
And he transformed the situation by giving a new definition of greatness. And you know how he said it? He said, “Now brethren, I can’t give you greatness. And really, I can’t make you first.” This is what Jesus said to James and John. “You must earn it. True greatness comes not by favoritism, but by fitness. And the right hand and the left are not mine to give, they belong to those who are prepared.”
And so Jesus gave us a new norm of greatness. If you want to be important—wonderful. If you want to be recognized—wonderful. If you want to be great—wonderful. But recognize that he who is greatest among you shall be your servant. That’s a new definition of greatness.
And this morning, the thing that I like about it: by giving that definition of greatness, it means that everybody can be great, because everybody can serve. You don’t have to have a college degree to serve. You don’t have to make your subject and your verb agree to serve. You don’t have to know about Plato and Aristotle to serve. You don’t have to know Einstein’s theory of relativity to serve. You only need a heart full of grace, a soul generated by love. And you can be that servant.
I know a man—and I just want to talk about him a minute, and maybe you will discover who I’m talking about as I go down the way because he was a great one. And he just went about serving. He was born in an obscure village, the child of a poor peasant woman. And then he grew up in still another obscure village, where he worked as a carpenter until he was thirty years old. Then for three years, he just got on his feet, and he was an itinerant preacher. And he went about doing some things. He didn’t have much. He never wrote a book. He never held an office. He never had a family. He never owned a house. He never went to college. He never visited a big city. He never went two hundred miles from where he was born. He did none of the usual things that the world would associate with greatness. He had no credentials but himself.
He was only thirty-three when the tide of public opinion turned against him. They called him a rabble-rouser. They called him a troublemaker. They said he was an agitator. He practiced civil disobedience; he broke injunctions. And so he was turned over to his enemies and went through the mockery of a trial. And the irony of it all is that his friends turned him over to them. One of his closest friends denied him. Another of his friends turned him over to his enemies. And while he was dying, the people who killed him gambled for his clothing, the only possession that he had in the world.
When he was dead he was buried in a borrowed tomb, through the pity of a friend.
Nineteen centuries have come and gone and today he stands as the most influential figure that ever entered human history. All of the armies that ever marched, all the navies that ever sailed, all the parliaments that ever sat, and all the kings that ever reigned put together have not affected the life of man on this earth as much as that one solitary life. His name may be a familiar one. But today I can hear them talking about him. Every now and then somebody says, “He’s King of Kings.” And again I can hear somebody saying, “He’s Lord of Lords.” Somewhere else I can hear somebody saying, “In Christ there is no East nor West.” And then they go on and talk about, “In Him there’s no North and South, but one great Fellowship of Love throughout the whole wide world.” He didn’t have anything. He just went around serving and doing good.
This morning, you can be on his right hand and his left hand if you serve. It’s the only way in.
Every now and then I guess we all think realistically about that day when we will be victimized with what is life’s final common denominator—that something that we call death. We all think about it. And every now and then I think about my own death and I think about my own funeral. And I don’t think of it in a morbid sense. And every now and then I ask myself, “What is it that I would want said?” And I leave the word to you this morning.
If any of you are around when I have to meet my day, I don’t want a long funeral. And if you get somebody to deliver the eulogy, tell them not to talk too long. And every now and then I wonder what I want them to say. Tell them not to mention that I have a Nobel Peace Prize—that isn’t important. Tell them not to mention that I have three or four hundred other awards—that’s not important. Tell them not to mention where I went to school.
I’d like somebody to mention that day that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to give his life serving others.
I’d like for somebody to say that day that Martin Luther King, Jr., tried to love somebody.
I want you to say that day that I tried to be right on the war question. (Amen)
I want you to be able to say that day that I did try to feed the hungry. (Yes)
And I want you to be able to say that day that I did try in my life to clothe those who were naked. (Yes)
I want you to say on that day that I did try in my life to visit those who were in prison. (Lord)
I want you to say that I tried to love and serve humanity.
Yes, if you want to say that I was a drum major, say that I was a drum major for justice. Say that I was a drum major for peace. I was a drum major for righteousness. And all of the other shallow things will not matter. I won’t have any money to leave behind. I won’t have the fine and luxurious things of life to leave behind. But I just want to leave a committed life behind. And that’s all I want to say.
Yes, Jesus, I want to be on your right or your left side, not for any selfish reason. I want to be on your right or your left side, not in terms of some political kingdom or ambition. But I just want to be there in love and in justice and in truth and in commitment to others, so that we can make of this old world a new world.’
This sermon made me think about the kind of life I want to leave behind, and challenged me to reign in and redirect my ambition and ego, the same instinct for attention we all have, and to hear how Jesus Christ has defined success differently than the rest of the world.
But this also has a profound message for us as a collective community. I have tremendous faith that United Church of the Valley will continue as a church family and institution for many years to come. I have faith we will address the deficit in our budget, I have faith we’ll keep the metaphorical doors open. But what’s the point of survival? What kind of life are we going to lead? What kind of legacy are we going to leave behind? What is going to be said for UCV?
Do we want it said that we had the biggest steeple or the greatest choir? Do we want it said that we had the best programs, the most dynamic minister, or the most educated congregation? Do we want it said we were a drum major in the pomp and parade of life? No, that legacy is shallow in comparison to this: Let it be said that United Church of the Valley tried to love somebody. Let it be said that United Church of the Valley tried to be right on the war question. Let it be said that United Church of the Valley tried to feed the hungry. Let it be said that United Church of the Valley welcomed everybody, no matter where they were on their journey. Let it be said that United Church of the Valley wasn’t afraid to pick up the cross. Let it be said we loved Jesus Christ.
We are going to survive, and we are going to continue to strive to be on the left side or the right side of Jesus, not because of some selfish or material reason. We continue to strive, we continue to survive, because God is transforming this world around us, and we want to be there –to be there in love, in justice, in commitment, so that this old world can me made anew. AMEN.
Tags: Drum Major Instinct, greatness, James and John, Mark 10, Martin Luther King, MLK, MLK Memorial, service, United Church of the Valley
January 28, 2012 at 12:09 pm |
Reblogged this on Thoughts of Martin Luther-King.