Conversion is the starting point

Conversion is the starting point of every spiritual journey.  
It involves a break with the life lived up to that point;
it is a prerequisite for entering the kingdom. 
         Gustavo Gutierrez, We Drink From Our Own Wells

Conversion story #6

Thanks to the whitest sounding professor at my seminary, Calvin Augustine Pater, I was introduced to Dr. Martin Luther King Jr’s letter from Birmingham jail. Prof. Pater, known as being somewhat (perhaps entirely) erratic, argued convincingly to some, sympathetically to most, that King’s letter should be included in the New Testament canon.  The importance of that seminary debate hit home for me when I read Jonathan Rieder’s book Gospel of Freedom, an in-depth examination of King’s letter, published on the 50th anniversary of the original prison epistle.  Unlike in seminary, when I encountered King’s letter, this second time I was a pastor at a large city church, the kind of church and pastor that King wrote to in Birmingham, Alabama, 1963.

Eight pastors then wrote a letter telling Dr. King that though they were supportive of his civil rights work, at that moment and in their city- it was ultimately unwise and untimely (it was after all Holy Week and big churches are big productions and no one wanted to disrupt all of the special music and extra efforts made for a special, sweet, indeed holy, Easter celebration).  The eight pastors told King that though it was a peaceful march it could precipitate violence, thus they could not support it.
I knew reading this letter again that there were not eight but nine pastors who signed that letter. Had I been there my name would have been signed at the bottom too.  I know it would have.  I have moderated session meetings where I allowed bold actions to be tabled by others in order to keep the peace, I have cowered when a barrage of angry emails over something I wrote filled my Monday inbox and I have been in the pulpit with one eye on my text and the other on the budget lest I say something unwelcome and uncomfortable.  And don’t stop there, let’s look in the mirror a little more closely- I liked having a big church, the respect of my congregants and keeping things safe for everybody, myself included.  I would have signed that letter to Dr. King and have felt justified, even righteous for doing so.
That’s when the conversion happened. I could not deny that I was a white moderate, or as King described, a greater stumbling block to freedom than a member of the KKK.  So in my office at 1 Glenview Ave, with its own restroom and fireplace- what a study!, I fell to my knees and asked God to never let me love order more than justice, policy more than people, or comfort more than Gospel.  I asked God for more courage than I could muster on my own and clearer vision than my glasses could give.  ‘Let me not be silent when there was injustice to refugees, LGBQT and Black brothers and sisters’ I prayed and wept. I rose knowing I could never shed my cowardice but could rely upon the love of Jesus Christ, the one who through his strength, I could do all things.

One of the things that made King’s letter so effective was that he knew to whom he was writing. Often our attempts to educate, inspire, and admonish, are scattershot Facebook posts (or blogs?) that are ill timed, poorly devised bombs that just make a mess, offending someone, everyone, rather than engaging one’s heart, mind and conscience.
But, I do know that whether it's through a self righteous Facebook post, an inconvenient protest in the midst of a pandemic or words scribbled on the margins of a newspaper in a Birmingham jail- God is out to convert you.  He wants to get your attention, change your mind and turn your world upside down.  God wants to see you let go, give in, give way and give much to and for his Kingdom.  God wants to save your life. Who knows what exactly you are being converted from, but I know what you are being converted to- the kingdom of God, where black lives matter, the poor are filled, the cursed forgiven, the sick healed, the foreigner welcomed and where the one called by your name has a seat at the table.