Martin Luther King Day is one of my favorite holidays.  My family has a long standing tradition of gathering early in the morning, lighting candles, and walking through the neighborhood singing “We Shall Overcome”, and then we make an effort to work as a family to do our little part to eradicate various injustices.

Part of that statement is true.  It is one of my favorite holidays.  You probably wouldn’t know that, however,  unless you asked me about it- because I like most families, just try to enjoy an extra day off.  It is important, though, because it keeps the story of the value of people in front of me.  This day keeps the story alive, of the struggle of people who see themselves as being made in God’s image- and the people who see them as less than that- and will do whatever it takes to repress that vision.

My family had the opportunity to go to the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis last year on our way to Florida, and the experience was powerful for me to say the least.  After an hour or two of reading of the struggle, watching video clips, and sitting in the bus where Rosa Park’s said “I am tired.” and refused to move; I found myself standing next to the place where King lost his life on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel.  I stood looking through a plexiglass window at King’s room to my right and straight ahead was the balcony.  The building across the street from which the shots came was in my line of sight as well.  Something caught my eye when looking down at the balcony deck- there was a square in the concrete which had been cut out and new concrete poured in it.  The square was approximately 18 inches long and wide, to my recollection.   Not sure where I got the information, if it was someone there, or a sign through our self guided tour, but I became aware that the square was the clean up work by the owner of the motel.  This square of concrete was where MLK’s blood was, and it was stained, and not able to be cleaned.  So, the owner, cut the blood stained concrete out, and poured new cement in its place.

This kind of clean up happens every day where there is violent crime, and also where there are tragic accidents.  The clean up helps the rest of us not think about, or even know about, what happened at that spot in the past.  This is helpful for our communities.  In this case, though, it reminded me that with this murder- the life cut short led a struggle affirming God’s image in all men.  His was an imperfect life, full of contradictions, and yet not afraid to speak of justice and the peaceful way of Jesus.  People joining in grabbed hold of their identity as image bearers and had the revelation that jail time, pain, or even death could not stop them from taking that identity on to themselves as individuals.  There was unspeakable freedom in understanding this, and true community as African Americans and any other people who had experienced a generational repression started to own their place in America with diginty.  There was a consistency starting to happen between people’s inner lives and how they hoped to express themselves in the outside world.  Even more importantly for all of us- there was a collective assumption of identity that created a wave of change and courage, and for that matter- conflict.

And, while MLK the man is not by any means solely responsible for Civil Rights progress; he was a life that was a part of creating hope and helping people live with courage.  He helped people believe that they had value.  He challenged people who worked so hard to preserve their own power and deny worth in others.  So while this man was a larger than life character, his blood got cleaned up and the square on the balcony spoke to the enormity of this life, and the value of every man.  I stared at the square and started to cry.  My children got uncomfortable as Dad was all emotional and weird.  I couldn’t stop, as I was broken- so sad that this life of great value created such a story, was cut down so quickly, and the evidence of his murder got removed by a concrete cutter.

As I walked away from the museum, and drove with my family for our vacation to Florida, I was struck with the knowledge of the value of every person.  Every person as being made in God’s image is made to be a creator and contributor, and some take this idea to heart and live it out in ways that make the world a better place.  They live it out in ways that personify the prayer of Jesus when he prayed “Your kingdom come, your will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.”  I was also stuck with how true power that creates sustainable change comes from the bottom up, from stables outside of Bethlehem, from streets in Selma, where people live every day.  When people choose to believe that they have a unique role to play in this big story- things change for the better.  God help those who fight to deny this identity in people, and God help us when we are asleep to this identity and choose to orient ourselves toward consumption.

The balcony square can remind us that:  every life has value, every life ends on earth, while our lives may intersect with tragedy- we can leave an impact that can go on for generations.  truth lives.

What unique role will you, will I, have in helping the world become a better place?

I hope to continue developing these ideas.

Chris King