When will we ever learn?

On Palm Sunday, April 7, 1968, a young, poorly-prepared (his description) college student got up to preach in a small church in a small North Carolina town. 

Three days earlier, Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. had been assassinated in Memphis. The young man’s sermon was about reconciliation and, according to him, “I didn’t have a brave sermon, though I suspect my grief was visible.” A few minutes into his sermon, the entire congregation got up and walked out of the church. 

Fresh out of seminary in 1983, I began my ministry at a church in eastern North Carolina. One August day, in preparation for the new Sunday School year, I was cleaning out a classroom with the help of two  mothers whose children attended public schools. I overheard them talking about the upcoming school year and asking one another, “How many children are in your child’s class? One answered, “four,” and the other answered, “five.” 

Thinking I had heard wrong (how could public school classes have so few students?), I said, “Excuse me, did you say there are only four and five children in your children’s classes this year?” 

One of the women looked around the room, leaned in toward me, and in a hushed tone said, “white children.” 

In the early 2000’s, Rev. James Page, pastor of the Adoram Baptist Church in Wallace, and I worked closely together to make our dream of a local crisis center a reality. 

We ate lunch together regularly at Andy’s (now Highway 55). Finally, Duplin Christian Outreach Ministries opened in July 2005 and continues to serve the citizens of our county who are experiencing financial crises. 

One Saturday morning in February 2006, I received a phone call from a member of my congregation who asked if I had heard about the church burnings in Alabama. 

Over a week’s time, five black and four white congregations had their churches destroyed. The church member told me he was concerned because of my work with Rev. Page and DCOM. Immediately I assumed he was opposed to what we were doing and that we were collaborating and, I must admit, it made me angry. Then he told me, “I’m not telling you to quit doing what you’re doing. I support what you’re doing. I’m just concerned about you and your family’s safety. Just be careful and stay alert. There are some crazy people out there.” 

These are just three incidents — 1968, 1983, 2006 — 20 years apart. Here we are 20 years later. Unfortunately, there are too many similar instances still occurring to pick just one to relate. 

The “young, poorly-prepared college student” is now a retired, respected pastor. He is a friend, mentor, and inspiration to me. His life and ministry demonstrate the same conviction he shared in that pulpit in 1968. 

He wrote recently on Facebook about that experience and said, “And here we are 56 years later, and apparently we haven’t learned much. Lord, in your mercy . . .” Yes, Lord, in your mercy . . .

Philip Gladden is a retired Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) minister who lives in Wallace, NC.  He can be reached at gladdenphilip620@gmail.com.