So Ordinary

Published on January 14, 2012 by Doug Swagerty

Dear Church Family,

It seemed so ordinary. A few nights earlier Lois and I had enjoyed ribs at a restaurant on Beale Street, the center of night-life in downtown Memphis. After dinner we strolled the street with friends, keeping count of the number of Elvis impersonators we encountered and enjoying the sounds of live jazz music that seemed to stream from the doorways of every establishment.

We were enjoying our week in this city that we had only driven through in the past. One of the quaint charms of downtown Memphis is the cable car line that travels down Main Street before looping around and following the banks of the Mississippi River. Later in the week we were riding in one of the wooden cars when I looked to my left and saw something that looked strangely familiar. It was only a block away in space, but it felt like it was light years away in time. Then I suddenly realized what it was: the Lorraine Motel.

The front of the motel has been preserved in its original state, right down to the 1959 Dodge Royal and 1968 Cadillac parked below room 306. It was on the balcony outside that room that Martin Luther King, Jr. was shot on April 4, 1968.

No wonder it looked familiar. I immediately recalled the picture of King’s aides standing over King’s body on that balcony, all pointing to the origin of the gunshot. The image was seared in my mind, in much the same way as the scenes from Dealey Plaza in Dallas, where President Kennedy was killed in 1963.

But that day in Memphis I felt something odd. It was the same feeling I had when I first visited Dealey Plaza. In my mind, these places were larger than life. Balconies, grassy knolls, sixth floors of book depositories…they are all monumental sites of epic historical events. So I expected to feel awed, not odd.

Finally, I put my finger on it. It felt odd because the motel—just like the grassy knoll—seemed so ordinary. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized how fitting it was that I should feel that way. Because this motel was not simply the scene of an historic crime. More significantly, it had become a symbol of the hatred that leads to crime. And it struck me that this sort of hatred is, sadly, so very ordinary.

As we commemorate Martin Luther King Day this weekend, I would challenge each of you to think through the ways in which we unthinkingly tolerate, and perhaps even perpetuate, discrimination. King’s battle was against racism, which despite significant advances, still rears its ugly head in our society today. But there are other forms of prejudice as well. We can be guilty of socio-economic, cultural, sexual, age, religious, and political discrimination. Obviously, the list could go on and on. What are the all-too-ordinary ways we perceive life that God would want us to change? That’s the question for us, because each one of those expressions of hatred breaks the heart of God.

And that’s why I am really looking forward to tomorrow morning. A couple of years ago, Lois and I had lunch with a member of NCPC who shared his life’s story with us and we were deeply moved. At the time I thought it was a story that the whole church should hear. And tomorrow is the day. It’s a story about discrimination, but it’s also a story about redemption, and how we can make a difference in our world. I hope you’ll be there to hear it.

Blessings,

Doug