The autobiography of martin luther

tinued indefinitely. Black men have slammed the door shut on a past of

deadening passivity. Except for the Reconstruction years, they have never

in their long history on American soil struggled with such creativity and

courage for their freedom. These are our bright years of emergence;

though they are painful ones, they cannot be avoided.

1968

We know from past experience that Congress and the President

wouldn't do anything until we developed a movement around which

people of goodwill could find a way to put pressure on them, be-

cause it really meant breaking that coalition in Congress. It was still a

coalition-dominated, rural-dominated, basically Southern Congress.

There were Southerners there with committee chairmanships, and

they were going to stand in the way of progress as long as they could.

They got enough right-wing Midwestern or Northern Republicans

to go along with them.

This really meant making the movement powerful enough, dra-

matic enough, morally appealing enough so that people of good-

will—the churches, labor, liberals, intellectuals, students, poor

people themselves—began to put pressure on congressmen to the

point that they could no longer elude our demands.

Our idea was to dramatize the whole economic problem of the

poor. We felt there was a great deal that we needed to do to appeal

to Congress itself. The early demonstrations would be more geared

toward educational purposes—to educate the nation on the nature

of the problem and the crucial aspects of it, the tragic conditions

that we confront in the ghettos. After that, if we had not gotten a

response from Congress, we would branch out. And we were honest

enough to feel that we weren't going to get any instantaneous results

from Congress, knowing its recalcitrant nature on this issue, and

knowing that so many resources and energies were being used in

Vietnam rather than on the domestic situation. So we didn't have

any illusions about moving Congress in two or three weeks. But we

did feel that, by starting in Washington, centering on Congress and

departments of the government, we would be able to do a real edu-

cational job.

We called our demonstration a campaign for jobs and income

because we felt that the economic question was the most crucial that

black people, and poor people generally, were confronting. There

was a literal depression in the Negro community. When you have

mass unemployment in the Negro community, it's called a social

problem; when you have mass unemployment in the white commu-

nity, it's called a depression.

We would begin activity around Washington, but as that activity

was beginning, some people would be talking to Washington. Some

would be coming on mules to Washington. Some would be in their

buggies being pulled by the mules. And we would have a mule train,

all moving toward Washington, so that we would have forces mov-

ing out of the South—Mississippi joining forces with Alabama, Ala-

bama joining with Georgia, Georgia joining with South Carolina,

South Carohna with North Carolina with Virginia, and right on into

Washington. Other forces would be coming up out of Chicago and

Detroit and Cleveland and Milwaukee, others coming down from

Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore—all moving toward

Washington.

We would place the problems of the poor at the seat of govern-

ment of the wealthiest nation in the history of mankind. If that

power refused to acknowledge its debt to the poor, it would have

failed to live up to its promise to insure "life, liberty, and the pursuit

of happiness" to its citizens. If this society fails, I fear that we will

hear very shortly that racism is a sickness unto death.

The American people are infected with racism—that is the peril.

Paradoxically, they are also infected with democratic ideals—that is

the hope. While doing wrong, they have the potential to do right.

But they do not have a millennium to make changes. Nor have they

a choice of continuing in the old way. The future they are asked to

inaugurate is not so unpalatable that it justifies the evils that beset

the nation. To end poverty, to extirpate prejudice, to free a tor-

mented conscience, to make a tomorrow of justice, fair play, and

creativity—all these are worthy of the American ideal.

We have, through massive nonviolent action, an opportunity to

avoid a national disaster and create a new spirit of class and racial

harmony. We can write another luminous moral chapter in Ameri-

can history. All of us are on trial in this troubled hour, but time still

permits us to meet the future with a clear conscience.

We have the power to change America and give a kind of new

vitality to the religion of Jesus Christ. And we can get those young men

and women who've lost faith in the church to see that Jesus was a

serious man precisely because he dealt with the tang of the human amid

the glow of the Divine and that he was concerned about their problems.

He was concerned about bread; he opened and started Operation

Breadbasket a long time ago. He initiated the first sit-in movement

The greatest revolutionary that history has ever known. And when peo-

ple tell us when we stand up that we got our inspiration from this or

that, go back and let them know where we got our inspiration.

I read Das Kapital and The Communist Manifesto years ago when

I was a student in college. And many of the revolutionary movements

in the world came into being as a result of what Marx talked about.

The great tragedy is that Christianity failed to see that it had the

revolutionary edge. You don't have to go to Karl Marx to learn how to

be a revolutionary. I didn't get my inspiration from Karl Marx; I got it

from a man named Jesus, a Galilean saint who said he was anointed

to heal the broken-hearted. He was anointed to deal with the problems

of the poor. And that is where we get our inspiration. And we go out in

a day when we have a message for the world, and we can change this

world and we can change this nation.

"A great movement in Memphis"

During one week in March 1968 I made about thirty-five speeches.

I started out on Thursday in Grosse Point, Michigan. I had to speak

RESOLUTIONS

And I'm simply saying this morning, that you should resolve that you

will never become so secure in your thinking or your living that you for-

get the least of these. ... In some sense, all of us are the least of these,

but there are some who are least than the least of these. I try to get it

over to my children early, morning after morning, when I get a chance.

As we sit at the table, as we did this morning in morning devotions, I

couldn't pray my prayer without saying, "God, help us, as we sit at this

table to realize that there are those who are less fortunate than we are.

And grant that we will never forget them, no matter where we are." And

I said to my little children, "I'm going to work and do everything that I

can do to see that you get a good education. I don't ever want you to

forget that there are millions of God's children who will not and cannot

get a good education, and I don't want you feeling that you are better

than they are. For you will never be what you ought to be until they are

what they ought to be."

From sermon on January 7, 1968

four times in Detroit on Friday. Saturday I went to Los Angeles. I

had to speak five times. Then on Sunday I preached in three

churches in Los Angeles. And I flew from there to Memphis.

As I came in to Memphis, I turned around and said to Ralph

Abernathy, "They really have a great movement here in Memphis."

The issue was the refusal of Memphis to be fair and honest in its

dealings with its public servants, who happened to be sanitation

workers. One thousand three hundred sanitation workers were on

strike, and Memphis was not being fair to them. They were demon-

strating something there that needed to be demonstrated all over

our country. They were demonstrating that we can stick together

and they were demonstrating that we are all tied in a single garment

of destiny, and that if one black person suffers, if one black person

is down, we are all down. The Negro "haves" must join hands with

the Negro "have-nots." And armed with the compassionate travel-

er's check, they must journey into that other country of their broth-

er's denial and hurt and exploitation. One day our society will come

to respect the sanitation worker if it is to survive, for the person

who picks up our garbage is in the final analysis as significant as the

physician, for if he doesn't do his job, diseases are rampant. All labor

has dignity.

Now let me say a word to those of you who are on strike. You

have been out now for a number of days, but don't despair. Nothing

worthwhile is gained without sacrifice. The thing for you to do is stay

together and say to everybody in this community that you are going to

stick it out to the end until every demand is met, and that you are going

to say, "We ain't gonna let nobody turn us around." Let it be known

everywhere that along with wages and all of the other securities that

you are struggling for, you are also struggling for the right to organize

and to be recognized.

We can all get more together than we can apart And this is the

way we gain power. Power is the ability to achieve purpose, power is

the ability to affect change, and we need power. And I want you to stick

it out so that you will be able to make Mayor Loeb and others say

"Yes," even when they want to say "No."

Now the other thing is that nothing is gained without pressure.

Don't let anybody tell you to go back on the job and paternalistically

say, "Now you are my men and I'm going to do the right thing for you.

Just come on back on the job." Don't go back on the job until the

demands are met Never forget that freedom is not something that is

voluntarily given by the oppressor. It is something that must be de-

manded by the oppressed. Freedom is not some lavish dish that the

power structure and the white forces in policy-making positions will

voluntarily hand out on a silver platter while the Negro merely fur-

nishes the appetite. If we are going to get equality, if we are going to get

adequate wages, we are going to have to struggle for it. . . .

You know Jesus reminded us in a magnificent parable one day that

a man went to hell because he didn't see the poor. His name was Dives.

And there was a man by the name of Lazarus who came daily to his

gate in need of the basic necessities of life and Dives didn't do anything

about it. And he ended up going to hell. There is nothing in that para-

ble which says that Dives went to hell because he was rich. Jesus never

made a universal indictment against all wealth. It is true that one day

a rich young ruler came to Him talking about eternal life and he ad-

vised him to sell all, but in that instance Jesus was prescribing individ-

ual surgery, not setting forth a universal diagnosis. If you will go on

and read that parable in all of its dimensions and its symbolism you

will remember that a conversation took place between heaven and hell.

And on the other end of that long distance call between heaven and hell

was Abraham in heaven talking to Dives in hell. It wasn't a millionaire

in hell talking with a poor man in heaven, it was a little millionaire in

hell talking with a multimillionaire in heaven. Dives didn't go to hell

because he was rich. His wealth was his opportunity to bridge the gulf

that separated him from his brother Lazarus. Dives went to hell because

he allowed Lazarus to become invisible. Dives went to hell because he

allowed the means by which he lived to outdistance the ends for which

he lived. Dives went to hell because he sought to be a conscientious

objector in the war against poverty.

And I come by here to say that America too is going to hell if she

doesn't use her wealth. If America does not use her vast resources of

wealth to end poverty and make it possible for all of God's children to

have the basic necessities of life, she too will go to hell. I will hear

America through her historians, years and generations to come, saying,

"We built gigantic buildings to kiss the skies. We built gargantuan brid-

ges to span the seas. Through our space ships we were able to carve

highways through the stratosphere. Thrpugh our submarines we were

able to penetrate oceanic depths." It sijems that I can hear the God of

the universe saying, "Even though you have done all of that, I was

hungry and you fed me not I was naked and you clothed me not. The

children of my sons and daughters were in need of economic security

and you didn't previse it for them. And so you cannot enter the

kingdom of greatness." This may well be the indictment on America.

And that same voice says in Memphis to the mayor, to the power struc-

ture, "If you do it unto the least of these of my children you do it unto

me."

... Having to live under the threat of death every day, sometimes I

times from my own people, sometimes I feel discouraged. Having to go

to bed so often frustrated with the chilly winds of adversity about to

stagger me, sometimes I feel discouraged and feel my work's in vain.

But then the holy spirit revives my soul again. In Gilead, there is

balm to make the wounded whole. If we will believe that, we will build

a new Memphis. And bring about the day when every valley shall be

exalted. Every mountain and hill will be made low. The rough places

will be made plain, and the crooked places straight And the glory of

the Lord shall be revealed, and all flesh shall see it together.

32

UNFULFILLED DREAMS

Delivers final address at Bishop Charles J. Mason Temple in

Memphis

APRIL 4

7guess one of the great agonies of life is that we are constantly trying

to finish that which is unfinishable. We are commanded to do that

And so we, like David, find ourselves in so many instances having to

face the fact that our dreams are not fulfilled.

Life is a continual story of shattered dreams. Mahatma Gandhi

labored for years and years for the independence of his people. But

Gandhi had to face the fact that he was assassinated and died with a

broken heart, because that nation that he wanted to unite ended up

being divided between India and Pakistan as a result of the conflict

between the Hindus and the Moslems.

Woodrow Wilson dreamed a dream of a League of Nations, but he

died before the promise was delivered.

The Apostle Paul talked one day about wanting to go to Spain. It

was Paul's greatest dream to go to Spain, to carry the gospel there. Paul

never got to Spain. He ended up in a prison cell in Rome. This is the

story of life.

So many of our forebears used to sing about freedom. And they

dreamed of the day that they would be able to get out of the bosom of

slavery, the long night of injustice. And they used to sing little songs:

"Nobody knows de trouble I seen, nobody knows but Jesus." They

thought about a better day as they dreamed their dream. And they

would say, "I'm so glad the trouble don't last always. By and by, by

and by I'm going to lay down my heavy load." And they used to sing it

because of a powerful dream. But so many died without having the

dream fulfilled.

And each of you in some way is building some kind of temple. The

struggle is always there. It gets discouraging sometimes. It gets very

disenchanting sometimes. Some of us are trying to build a temple of

peace. We speak out against war, we protest, but it seems that your

head is going against a concrete wall. It seems to mean nothing. And so

often as you set out to build the temple of peace you are left lonesome;

you are left discouraged; you are left bewildered.

Well, that is the story of life. And the thing that makes me happy is

that I can hear a voice crying through the vista of time, saying: "It may

not come today or it may not come tomorrow, but it is well that it is

within thine heart. It's well that you are trying." You may not see it.

The dream may not be fulfilled, but it's just good that you have a desire

to bring it into reality. It's well that it's in thine heart.

Now let me bring out another point. Whenever you set out to build a

creative temple, whatever it may be, you must face the fact that there is

a tension at the heart of the universe between good and evil. Hinduism

refers to this as a struggle between illusion and reality. Platonic philoso-

phy used to refer to it as a tension between body and soul. Zoroastrian-

ism, a religion of old, used to refer to it as a tension between the god of

light and the god of darkness. Traditional Judaism and Christianity

refer to it as a tension between God and Satan. Whatever you call it,

there is a struggle in the universe between good and evil.

Now not only is that struggle structured out somewhere in the exter-

nal forces of the universe, it's structured in our own lives. Psychologists

have tried to grapple with it in their way, and so they say various

things. Sigmund Freud used to say that this tension is a tension between

what he called the id and the superego. Some of us feel that it's a tension

between God and man. And in every one of us, there's a war going on.

It's a civil war. I don't care who you are, I don't care where you live,

there is a civil war going on in your life. And every time you set out to

be good, there's something pulling on you, telling you to be evil. It's

going on in your life. Every time you set out to love, something keeps

pulling on you, trying to get you to hate. Every time you set out to be

kind and say nice things about people, something is pulling on you to

be jealous and envious and to spread evil gossip about them. There's a

civil war going on. There is a schizophrenia, as the psychologists or the

psychiatrists would call it, going on within all of us. And there are times

that all of us know somehow that there is a Mr. Hyde and a Dr. Jekyll

in us. And we end up having to cry out with Ovid, the Latin poet, "I

see and approve the better things of life, but the evil things I do." We

end up having to agree with Plato that the human personality is like a

charioteer with two headstrong horses, wanting to go in different direc-

tions. Or sometimes we even have to end up crying out with Saint

Augustine as he said in his Confessions, "Lord, make me pure, but not

yet." We end up crying out with the Apostle Paul, "The good that I

would I do not: And the evil that I would not, that I do." Or we end

up having to say with Goethe that "there's enough stuff in me to make

both a gentleman and a rogue." There's a tension at the heart of

human nature. And whenever we set out to dream our dreams and to

build our temples, we must be honest enough to recognize it.

In the final analysis, God does not judge us by the separate incidents

or the separate mistakes that we make, but by the total bent of our lives.

In the final analysis, God knows that his children are weak and they

are frail. In the final analysis, what God requires is that your heart is

right

.And the question I want to raise with you: is your heart right? If your

be able to say about you: "He may not have reached the highest height,

he may not have realized all of his dreams, but he tried." Isn't that a

wonderful thing for somebody to say about you? "He tried to be a good

man. He tried to be a just man. He tried to be an honest man. His

heart was in the right place." And I can hear a voice saying, crying out

through the eternities, "I accept you. You are a recipient of my grace

because it was in your heart. And it is so well that it was within thine

heart."

I don't know about you, hut I can make a testimony. You don't

want you to know this morning that I'm a sinner like all of God's

children. But I want to be a good man. And I want to hear a voice

saying to me one day, '7 take you in and I bless you, because you tried.

It is well that it was within thine heart."

"I've been to the mountaintop"

And you know, if I were standing at the beginning of time with the

possibility of taking a kind of general and panoramic view of the whole

human history up to now, and the Almighty said to me, "Martin Lu-

ther King, which age would you like to live in?" I would take my mental

flight by Egypt, and I would watch God's children in their magnificent

trek from the dark dungeons of Egypt across the Red Sea, through the

wilderness, on toward the promised land. And in spite of its magnifi-

cence, I wouldn't stop there.

I would move on by Greece, and take my mind to Mount Olympus.

And I would see Plato, Aristotle, Socrates, Euripides, and Aristophanes

assembled around the Parthenon, and I would watch them around the

Parthenon as they discussed the great and eternal issues of reality. But

I wouldn't stop there.

I would go on even to the great heyday of the Roman Empire and I

would see developments around there, through various emperors and

leaders. But I wouldn't stop there.

I would even come up to the day of the Renaissance, and get a quick

picture of all that the Renaissance did for the cultural and aesthetic life

of man. But I wouldn't stop there.

I would even go by the way that the man for whom I'm named had

his habitat, and I would watch Martin Luther as he tacks his ninety-

five theses on the door at the church in Wittenberg. But I wouldn't stop

there.

I would come on up even to 1863 and watch a vacillating President

had to sign the Emancipation Proclamation. But I wouldn't stop there.

I would even come up to the early thirties and see a man grappling

with the problems of the bankruptcy of his nation, and come with an