Ebeneezer Baptist. That’s the red brick church I walked to from downtown Atlanta one icy, cold afternoon two winters ago. In the peace plaza next to the building, there’s an eternal flame. Facing the Georgia marble tomb where MLK Jr. and his bride, Coretta, are laid to rest, we defrosted our fingers in its warmth.
It’s a national holiday. Government offices are closed. There won’t be any mail delivered to my box.
And today, I’m reflecting on MLK Jr.’s dream.
It’s a good dream.
It’s actually a great dream.
It’s God’s dream.
It’s a dream of white-skinned people and black-skinned people sitting down at a table together to share food and friendship.
It’s a dream of justice and freedom from discrimination for all Americans in every state of the union.
It’s a dream of black youth being judged by the content of their character rather than the color of their skin.
And it’s a dream of unified revelation of the glory of the Lord to all people.
The whole palette of colors God created are all equally beautiful to Him.
Red and yellow, black and white, all are precious in His sight.
Whenever any of His creative masterpieces are treated as inferior or demeaned, when injustice and violence is perpetrated against them, God is the first one to cry. And whatever breaks his heart, should break ours too.
So, I have a tradition. In recognition of this holiday, I always try to watch a movie that sensitizes me with the suffering of slavery, segregation and discrimination because
I don’t want to overlook the degradation that black people experience.
I don’t want to diminish the trauma in African American people’s stories.
I don’t want to forget the courage and sacrifices made for the sake of equal rights and freedoms.
Instead, I want to listen sensitively to the concerns of minority populations.
I want to contribute to peace and harmony between races.
I want to embrace a holy vision of liberty and justice for all.
The dream—it won’t be fully realized before heaven, but I look forward to the day when all God’s children join hands and sing the words of the old Negro spiritual, “Free at last, free at last. Thank God almighty, we’re free at last.”
BONUS: My top 10 impact movies on this issue.
Lee Daniels’ The Butler