wfn.org | A letter to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

[NewsDesk <NewsDesk@UMCOM.UMC.ORG>]

Nov. 23, 1998	Contact: Thomas S. McAnally((615)742-5470(Nashville,
Tenn.     {685}

NOTE TO EDITORS:   A photo of Bishop White is available for use with
this story.

NOTE TO READERS:  Each year, United Methodist  Bishop Woodie W. White
writes a letter to his friend and colleague, the late Dr. Martin Luther
King Jr.  White, 63, was the first staff executive for the
denomination's Commission on Religion and Race, where he served from
1969 to 1984. He was elected a bishop in 1984 and served eight years as
bishop in the church's Illinois Area.  He was appointed to the Indiana
area in 1992  This year's letter from White to the civil rights leader
follows:

Dear Martin,

Now I reflect on 30 years -- 1968-1998.  It hardly seems so.  In some
ways it seems so long ago, and in others, only yesterday.  There are
events so indelibly etched in my memory even the smallest detail takes
an unwarranted importance.  The night of your death, for instance, I
remember what I was wearing!

As I reflect on the occasion of your birth, it is this 30-year period
which has captured my recollection.

So much has changed!  Too much remains the same!

Martin, I remember well the nation's mourning at your tragic death: the
shock, anger, pain and wonderment concerning the future.  I recall
joining thousands in Atlanta as we walked solemnly behind the mule drawn
wagon bearing your body.  I've never seen so many people weep.  I've
never heard such silence!

Thirty years ago -- 1968.  The Methodist Church and the nation were
radically different.  As The United Methodist Church was created in the
merger of the Evangelical United Brethren and The Methodist Church, it
was still a structurally and organizationally segregated church with
distinct
racial annual conferences and jurisdictions.  But the new church said no
more!  And the structure of segregation came down!

Now 30 years later some of the changes in the church are so remarkable,
yet so almost unnoticed.  Only a few weeks ago Martin, Governor George
Wallace died. There was perhaps no more single voice in the 1960s that
personified the depth and determination of racism and segregation than
his. I still remember his defiance declaring, "Segregation yesterday.
Segregation today.  Segregation tomorrow.  Segregation forever!"

Long before his death, he became a different man.  At his funeral, a
United Methodist bishop who is black participated.  Yes, Martin, an
African American serves as bishop in Alabama, presiding over a
constituency that is predominantly white.

Today persons of color serve throughout The United Methodist Church as
bishops, district superintendents, conference and general church staff,
as well as board members in far greater proportion than our numbers
would dictate.

But there is something different I detect in both church and society.
Today there appears no moral driving force to make the nation, or even
the church, more inclusive.  Sometimes it seems begrudgingly, or simply
obligatory.

But the doors of opportunity have opened, however slowly or reluctantly,
and people of color are represented in almost every sphere of corporate,
government, community, and religious life.  Those of us who remember how
it used to be give thanks for these signs of progress.

But, Martin, all is not well!  I fear that in our efforts to eradicate
racism and segregation we gave more attention to changing laws than
changing hearts!  Today I believe problems of race are not bad laws but
bad hearts.  The challenge is to change hearts and attitudes, as well as
behavior.

I am particularly disappointed with the state of race in the "North."
The North that I knew as a boy prided itself, perhaps unduly so, on its
racial openness.  Today racism in the North is more pervasive, subtle,
silent and sinister and, sometimes, ugly.

For the first time in 50 years, for instance, more black people have
moved to the South than from it!  You would be surprised and I'm sure
pleased with the progress in race made in the South in the past 30
years.

Martin, there is now a phrase coined in the corporate world called the
"glass ceiling."  It refers to the notion that women of color in the
business and corporate world can only rise so far up the corporate
ladder and then reach a point where they are no longer permitted to
ascend.  It is real and represents the next legacy of racism and
prejudice to be toppled.

Martin, I am writing this letter in the quiet of morning before dawn.
And I write from your beloved Atlanta.  You recall it was called, "A
city too busy to hate."  And in so many ways it proved to be so.  It is
in the morning just before dawn that my spirit seems most hopeful.  When
I observe what has been accomplished in the past 30 years in race in the
church and society, I am encouraged.  Some gains have even exceeded our
dreaming.

Yet, when I observe all that has not been achieved in bringing down the
walls of racism, prejudice and ethnocentrism, I know how much has still
to be done both in the church and society.

As always Martin, I write in hope.  As always, I write in thanksgiving.

We shall overcome!

United Methodist News Service
(615)742-5470
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