In 1853, Unitarian minister and abolitionist Theodore Parker predicted the ultimate abolition of slavery with the following words: “I do not pretend to understand the moral universe; the arc is a long one, my eye reaches but little ways; I cannot calculate the curve and complete the figure by the experience of sight; I can divine it by conscience. And from what I see it bends towards justice.”
In 1967 the Rev’d Dr. Martin Luther King paraphrased Rev’d Parker’s words in his 1967 “Where Do We Go From Here” speech to the Southern Christian Leadership Conference by saying “The arc of the Moral Universe is long, but it bends toward Justice.”
This weekend we are celebrating our country’s 238th birthday. The 238th anniversary of a radical, risky, and dangerous thing a group of men in Philadelphia undertook on July 4, 1776.. You know there had to have been resistance and reactionism to the decision taken that day; the narrative of US history has polished all that down to a little more than a footnote. But when such a major change to the status quo is launched there is always pushback.
Today is a good time, amidst all the celebration of this weekend, to pause and reflect on the American narrative.
Drawing from our hymnals today we are singing three national hymns which speak to the narrative of the United States.
The first was “My Country ‘Tis of Thee.” is also known by its tune’s name “America.” Right there is an assumed narrative: “America.” Surely we all learned this song in elementary school and it was part of the narrative about our country we also learned at that time. “Land where my fathers died, land of the Pilgrims’ pride…”
And the final verse of “My Country ‘Tis of Thee”: “Our fathers’ God, to thee, author of liberty, to thee we sing;long may our land be bright with freedom’s holy light; protect us by thy might, great God and King.” There was a custom in many Episcopal churches to sing that final verse along with the Doxology as the offerings were brought to the altar. I don’t know if that’s still the case anywhere any more, but I remember it distinctly in the first church I served as curate in Alexandria, Virginia almost 30 years ago.
For me “My Country ‘Tis of Thee” represents one narrative, one story of our country. It was the dominant one, the one I grew up with, as perhaps many of you did as well.
Our second hymn today, “Lift Every Voice and Sing” represents another narrative of our country — and, by extension points to many more, many more narratives, many more stories. The words were written by the African American educator, attorney, dipolomat, and poet James Weldon Johnson in 1900. It is included both in Hymnal 1984 and our supplemental Lift Every Voice and Sing, Vol II. It is known as the African American National Anthem.
It’s in the second verse of “Lift Every Voice and Sing” that we hear the strong theme of a different American narrative: “Stony the road we trod, bitter the chastening rod, felt in the days when hope unborn had died..We have come over a way that with tears has been watered, we have come treading our path through the blood of the slaughtered…”
Of course there are many American narratives: the narratives of African Americans, the narratives of women. The narratives of gay and lesbian people, the narratives of laborers. The narratives of Native American people and the narratives of immigrants. The narratives of every conceivable theological stripe within Christianity as wells as those of Muslims, Jews, Hindus, Buddhists, atheists. The narratives of the very land, water, and air itself.
And for many years, I believe, the dominant narrative, the one represented by our opening hymn for the most part took pride in acknowledging and showing “tolerance” to all those other narratives. E pluribus unum — out of the many one, and all of that. As long as those other narratives understood that they weren’t really the narrative. As long as they understood they were secondary to the dominant narrative, the one so many of us grew up with.
The arc of the Moral Universe is long, but it bends toward Justice.
See here’s the thing. Over the past, I don’t know, 10, 20, 50, 60 — who knows exactly, who can pinpoint the date and time — some time between the end of World War II and today — all these other “secondary” narratives starting coming to similar conclusions: my narrative is just as valid as the “primary” narrative. It is not less than. It is not subordinate to. It is valid, it is strong and it needs to become part of the whole.
And what happens when the dominant narrative is challenged? Fear sets in. And anxiety. And reactionism. Today we are seeing fear and reactivity writ large unfolding all around us. From the temples of government in Washington to groups wrapping themselves in flags that proclaim “Don’t tread on me!” to people carrying assault weapons into coffee shops to show they can. We see it all around us and perhaps we despair.
It is such a very human thing to react with fear and anxiety when our prevailing narrative is challenged. And the greater, the more varied the challenge, the greater the fear, and acting out. Think of a time in your own life when there was upheaval. Think of any time in the world’s history when there was upheaval. Think of the forces behind it. Think of the reactivity it engendered.
The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.
It is not a smooth arc. It is not without challenges, setbacks — dark ages even. But it does ultimately bend toward justice.
There is a third national hymn we will sing today. And for me it points to a bigger narrative, a narrative that weaves together all our narratives. “O beautiful, for spacious skies,” it begins. It too calls upon God not to protect us by his might but to call us to greater responsibility to “crown thy good with brotherhood.” It reminds us that heroes died because they loved their country as well as “mercy more than life.” And this national hymn also calls upon God to keep us ever mindful and “mend thine every flaw, confirm thy soul in self-control, thy liberty in law.”
I do believe that the arc of the moral universe bends toward justice, though at times it may not be readily apparent. I do believe that because I know that the arc of God’s narrative bends toward justice. The arc of both our holy texts, Hebrew and Christian testaments alike, are filled with God’s movement toward liberation, from the first act of creation through the liberation of the Hebrew people from the bondage of slavery in Egypt through the liberation of humanity from the bondage of death in the death and resurrection of Jesus Christ — the arc of our sacred narrative bends toward justice and freedom. Despite setbacks and challenges and dark ages.
And that arc of God’s narrative continues. You see I believe it is God’s Holy Spirit that has prompted us, urged us, hit us over the head with a two by four at time to continue working for justice, for freedom — for all. Just as the abolitionists did. Just as the suffragists did. Just as Harvey Milk did. Just as we continue to be called to do.
The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice. Because God’s vision for all people, spelled out in today’s first reading from Zechariah, is this “…the battle bow shall be cut off and God shall command peace to the nations; his dominion shall be from sea to sea, and from the River to the ends of the earth… Return to your stronghold, O prisoners of hope; today I declare that I will restore to you double.” AMEN.