ChuckFreeman.Org

We hear him referred to now more often than not as Dr., and he is. He earned a Doctorate in Theology from Boston University in 1955. But his essential self, his core identity, his to the bone being, his calling is to be a Reverend – a Preacher.

Dr. may sound more impressive to the ears and may garner more clout on a resume, but the authenticity, power and authority gushed like a geyser from a deeper well.

Hear now ongoing revelation from Rev. King’s sermon, “The Drum Major Instinct”.

“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…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.
- I want you to be able to say that day that I did try to feed the hungry.
- And I want you to be able to say that day that I did try in my life to clothe those who were naked.
- I want you to say on that day that I did try in my life to visit those who were in prison.
- 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.”

In the first year of his ministry in 1954, Rev. King preached “Rediscovering Lost Values” at 2nd Baptist Church in Detroit.

“As a young man with most of my life ahead of me, I decided early to give my life to something eternal and absolute. Not to these little gods that are here today and gone tomorrow, but to God who is the same yesterday, today, and forever.

Not in the little gods that can be with us in a few moments of prosperity, but in the God who walks with us through the valley of the shadow of death, and causes us to fear no evil. That’s the God.

Not in the god that can give us a few Cadillac cars and Buick convertibles, as nice as they are, that are in style today and out of style three years from now, but the God who threw up the stars to bedeck the heavens like swinging lanterns of eternity.

Not in the god that can throw up a few skyscraping buildings, but the God who threw up the gigantic mountains, kissing the sky, as if to bathe their peaks in the lofty blues.

Not in the god that can give us a few televisions and radios, but the God who threw up that great cosmic light that gets up early in the morning in the eastern horizon, who paints its technicolor across the blue —something that man could never make.”

The night before he was assassinated, Martin preached to the striking sanitation workers in Memphis, Tennessee. Behold the crescendo of his sermon.

“It really doesn’t matter what happens now…We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn’t matter with me now. Because I’ve been to the mountaintop. And I don’t mind. Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will.

And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people will get to the promised land. And I’m happy, tonight. I’m not worried about anything. I’m not fearing any man. Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord.”

I am humbly honored to be in the same flock as Martin Luther King – A Minister, a Reverend, a Preacher. Don’t neglect to honor his educational accomplishments, but call him Dr. – Second.

The seemingly inevitable recent assassination of Benazir Bhutto in Pakistan has set me into deep contemplation about the course of certain lives and nations. These words from modern day apostle Carl Jung resonate clearly.

“When one lives one’s own life …there is no guarantee – not for a single moment – that we will not fall into error or stumble into deadly peril.”

Ms. Bhutto knew the stakes were high. When she returned home from exile last October she publicly stated that retired military officers aligned to Islamic extremists could be plotting her assassination. Bhutto’s family history didn’t bode well for her survival either. Her father was executed and her two brothers also suffered violent deaths.

I live under no illusion that Ms. Bhutto and her family were holy innocents. Beneath all the power jockeying and money temptations however, they did seem to have a core commitment to democracy.

Benazir’s father was prime minister of Pakistan in the early 1970s. His government was one of the few in the 30 years following independence that was not run by the army.

Ms. Bhutto was imprisoned just before her father’s death and spent most of her five-year jail term in solitary confinement.

During stints out of prison for medical treatment, Ms Bhutto set up a Pakistan People’s Party office in London. She returned to Pakistan in 1986, attracting huge crowds to political rallies. Two years later she became one of the first democratically elected female prime ministers in an Islamic country.

Benazir Bhutto could have lived a safe and comfortable life in London with her family, teaching at a university and lecturing around the globe on democracy. Instead, she continued the costly calling of living democracy.

I recall the timely and moving words from the Jesus lexicon. “If anyone would come after me, they must deny themselves, take up their cross and follow me. For whoever wants to save her life will lose it, but whoever loses her life for me will find it.”

We walk a line with Bhutto and people of her lineage between glorifying and honoring martydom. I would love nothing more than for Benazir Bhutto’s death to birth a phoenix of democratic decency. History’s record is mixed at best.

There are things worse than physical death. In the recesses of my eternal gut I believe that living in sych with our integrity will never die. Apostle Jung continues his revelation.

“We may think there is a sure road. But that would be the road of death. Then nothing happens any longer – at any rate, not the right things. Anyone who takes the sure road is as good as dead.“