Martin Luther King, Jr., and the African-American
Social Gospel
Most recent studies of Martin Luther King, Jr., emphasize
the extent to which his ideas were rooted in African-American
religious traditions. Departing from King's own autobiographical
account and from earlier studies that stressed the importance of
King's graduate studies at Crozer Theological Seminary and Boston
University, contemporary scholars have focused attention on King's
African-American religious roots. The Martin Luther King, Jr., Papers
Project has contributed to this scholarly trend by documenting the
King family's long-standing ties to Ebenezer Baptist Church and
the social gospel ministries of his father and grandfather, both
of whom were civil rights leaders as well as pastors. The
King project's research also suggests, however, that the current
trend in scholarship may understate the extent to which King's African-American
religious roots were inextricably intertwined with the European-American
intellectual influences of his college years. The initial volumes
of the project's fourteen-volume edition of King's papers have contributed
to a new understanding of King's graduate school experiences, demonstrating
that his academic writings, though flawed by serious instances of
plagiarism, were often reliable expressions of his complex, evolving
Weltanschauung. Moreover, King's writings make clear that his roots
in African-American religion did not necessarily separate him from
European-American theological influences, because many of the black
religious leaders who were his role models were themselves products
of predominantly white seminaries and graduate schools. Rather than
being torn between two mutually exclusive religious traditions,
King's uniquely effective transracial leadership was based on his
ability to combine elements of African-American and European-American
religious traditions.
King was deeply influenced by his childhood immersion
in African-American religious life, but his years at Crozer and
Boston increased his ability to incorporate aspects of academic
theology into his sermons and public speeches. His student papers
demonstrate that he adopted European-American theological ideas
that ultimately reinforced rather than undermined the African-American
social gospel tradition epitomized by his father and grandfather.
Although King's advanced training in theology set him apart from
most African-American clergymen, the documentary evidence regarding
his formative years suggests that his graduate studies engendered
an increased appreciation for his African-American religious roots.
From childhood, King had been uncomfortable with the emotionalism
and scriptural literalism that he associated with traditional Baptist
liturgy, but he was also familiar with innovative, politically active,
and intellectually sophisticated African-American clergymen who
had themselves been influenced by European-American theological
scholarship. These clergymen served as role models for King as he
mined theological scholarship for nuggets of insight that could
enrich his preaching. As he sought to resolve religious doubts that
had initially prevented him from accepting his calling, King looked
upon European-American theological ideas not as alternatives to
traditional black Baptist beliefs but as necessary correctives to
those beliefs.
Tracing the evolution of his religious beliefs
in a sketch written at Crozer entitled "An Autobiography of Religious
Development," King recalled that an initial sense of religious estrangement
had unexpectedly and abruptly become apparent at a Sunday morning
revival meeting he attended at about the age of seven. A guest evangelist
from Virginia had come to talk about salvation and to seek recruits
for the church. Having grown up in the church, King had never given
much thought to joining it formally, but the emotion of the revival
and the decision of his sister to step forward prompted an impulsive
decision to accept conversion. He reflected, "I had never given
this matter a thought, and even at the time of [my] baptism I was
unaware of what was taking place." King admitted that he "joined
the church not out of any dynamic conviction, but out of a childhood
desire to keep up with my sister." In the same sketch, he wrote
that, although he accepted the teachings of his Sunday school teachers
until he was about twelve,
this uncritical attitude could not last long,
for it was contrary to the very nature of my being. I had always
been the questioning and precocious type. At the age of 13 I shocked
my Sunday School class by denying the bodily resurrection of Jesus.
From the age of thirteen on doubts began to spring forth unrelentingly.
King's recognition that he did not share some of'
the religious convictions of other family members might have been
emotionally devastating, but his inalienable sense of belonging
to the church led him toward reconciliation rather than continued
rebellion. Although his convictions removed him from the kind of
fundamentalist faith that placed great importance on emotionalism
and a conversion experience, he never considered abandoning his
inherited faith. His early doubts did not interfere with his intense
involvement in church life, his love of church music, or his fascination
with the art of preaching. His father, Martin Luther King, Sr.,
noted the way in which his son absorbed attitudes ("he loved church
... the feeling for ceremonies and ritual, the passionate love of
Baptist music") and skills ("a great speaker ... and he sang, too,
in a fine, clear voice") that would prepare him for a preaching
career. Letters written to his parents in his early adolescence
reveal an intimate knowledge of the details of Baptist church life:
congregational governance, ward meetings, church finances, and continual
social events.
Moreover, King was aware that the accomplishments
of his father's generation of African-American religious leaders
represented more than just emotional folk preaching and scriptural
literalism. Despite theological differences, King attributed his
decision to enter the ministry to the influence of a father who
"set forth a noble example that I didn't [mind] following." King's
father and grandfather were not only Baptist ministers but also
pioneering exponents of a distinctively African-American version
of social gospel Christianity. When King's grandfather, the Reverend
A. D. Williams, arrived in Atlanta in 1893, social gospel activism
was becoming increasingly common among both black and white urban
clergymen. After taking over the pastorate of Atlanta's Ebenezer
Baptist Church in March 1894, Williams built a large congregation
through forceful preaching that addressed the everyday concerns
of poor and working-class residents. Baptist denominational practices
encouraged ministers such as Williams to retain the support of occasionally
rebellious congregations through charismatic leadership that extended
beyond purely spiritual matters. Having arrived in Atlanta on the
eve of a major period of institutional development among African-American
Baptists, Williams joined two thousand other delegates and visitors
who met at Atlanta's Friendship Baptist Church in September 1895
to organize the National Baptist Convention, the largest black organization
in the United States.
For the remainder of his life, Williams played
a leading role in Baptist affairs, both at state and national levels.
In addition, he took the lead in responding to W. E. B. Du Bois's
call for civil rights activism by joining five hundred other black
Georgians in February 1906 to form the Georgia Equal Rights League.
In 1917, Williams became one of the founders of the Atlanta branch
of the National Association for the Advancement of Colored People
(NAACP). After becoming president of the local chapter in 1918,
he mobilized newly enfranchised African-American women in a campaign
to register black voters. He also led a successful drive to pressure
white officials into providing improved educational facilities for
black children. This effort resulted in the establishment of a black
high school that Martin Luther King, Jr., later attended.
Martin Luther King, Sr., continued this tradition
of social gospel activism after he married Williams's only daughter
in 1926. Although his son would sometimes depict him as a conservative,
King, Sr., identified himself as a social gospel preacher who believed
that his ministry should be focused on the everyday needs of his
congregation rather than otherworldly concerns. While a theology
student at Morehouse College, King, Sr., had been exposed to the
liberal theological ideas of C. D. Hubert, who headed the school's
theology program. As the two ministers struggled to retain the loyalty
of their congregations during the Great Depression, King recalled
that Williams insisted, "Whosoever carries the word must make the
word flesh." King explained that Williams used church funds to "make
food available to the hungry and clothes to those without them.
We kept children while mothers worked. The church bought and supplied
medicines. Ebenezer tried to be an anchor as the storm rose."
After taking over Ebenezer upon Williams's death
in 1931, Martin Luther King, Sr., expanded the scope of his predecessor's
politically engaged ministry. Early in 1935, he organized meetings
to encourage blacks to register to vote and, despite resistance
from more cautious clergyman and lay leaders, organized a march
to City Hall. A year later he became chairman of the Committee on
the Equalization of Teachers' Salaries, which was formed to protest
against discriminatory policies that paid higher salaries to white
teachers than to equally qualified blacks. In spite of receiving
threatening hate letters, he played a leading role in the sustained
struggle for pay equity.' King's firm insistence that the Christian
church should participate in civil rights activities set him apart
from politically conservative scriptural fundamentalists. In 1940,
he revealed his commitment to social gospel Christianity in an address
on "the true mission of the Church" delivered to the Atlanta Missionary
Baptist Association:
Quite often we say the church has no place in
politics, forgetting the words of the Lord, 'The spirit of the
Lord is upon me, because he hath [anointed] me to preach the Gospel
to the poor; he hath sent me to heal the broken-hearted, to preach
deliverance to the captives, and the recovering of sight to the
blind, to set at liberty them that are bruised."
... God hasten the time when every minister will
become a registered voter and a part of every movement for the
betterment of our people. Again and again has it been said we
cannot lead where we do not go, and we cannot teach what we do
not know.
As ministers a great responsibility rests upon
us as leaders. We can not expect our people to register and become
citizens until we as leaders set the standard.
In addition to seeing his father as both a social
activist and a scriptural conservative, King, Jr., was also aware
of many other models of politically engaged religious leadership.
He admired the Reverend William Holmes Borders, who had built Wheat
Street Baptist Church into Atlanta's largest black church and who
possessed the academic credentials that King's own father lacked.
Although both ministers had struggled from poverty to graduate from
Morehouse College, Borders had also obtained a divinity degree from
Garrett Theological Seminary and a master's degree from Northwestern
before returning to Atlanta, where he taught religion at Morehouse
and became an outspoken preacher at Wheat Street. According to biographer
Taylor Branch, King and his friends studied "Borders' mannerisms,
his organizational style, and above all the high-toned sermons in
which he aroused his congregation without merely repeating the homilies
of eternal life."
After entering Morehouse College at the age of
fifteen, King was profoundly influenced by the example of the college's
president, Dr. Benjamin Elijah Mays, a family friend who was the
kind of dedicated, intellectually sophisticated religious leader
that King wished to emulate. Selected in 1940 to succeed John Hope
as head of Morehouse, Mays was the first Morehouse president with
a Ph.D. Although not a "Morehouse man" himself, Mays had internalized
the Morehouse tradition calling for students to use their skills
on behalf of the black community. An outstanding debater during
his own undergraduate years, Mays often used his Tuesday morning
talks to the student body as occasions to express his commitment
to the social gospel and to challenge Morehouse students to struggle
against segregation rather than accommodate to it. By the time King
entered college, Mays had returned from a trip to India as one of
a growing number of African-American disciples of Mahatma Gandhi.
King later described Mays as one of the "great influences" in his
life.
At Morehouse, King received his initial exposure
to modern critical theology when he took a course on the Bible taught
by another family acquaintance, Professor George D. Kelsey, a Morehouse
graduate who had recently received his doctorate from Yale. In 1945
Kelsey had initiated an Annual Institute for the Training and Improvement
of Baptist Ministers and had thereby gained the admiration of King,
Sr., who described Kelsey as a teacher who "saw the pulpit as a
place both for drama, in the old-fashioned, country Baptist sense,
and for the articulation of philosophies that address the problems
of society." Kelsey later remembered King, Jr., as an earnest student
who took the subject matter of the course seriously. "I made it
my business to present lectures on the most strenuous teaching of
Jesus," Kelsey recalled. "It was precisely at this time that Martin's
eyes lit up most and his face was graced with a smile." " Shortly
after teaching King, Kelsey published an article arguing that "the
problem of race is indeed America's greatest moral dilemma," giving
King a phrase that he would use in his first book, Stride
Toward Freedom (1958).
In addition to Mays and Kelsey, King was also undoubtedly
aware of many black religious leaders who combined academic erudition
with a thorough grounding in African-American religious traditions.
While at Crozer Seminary, King often debated theological and political
issues with J. Pius Barbour, a family friend and Morehouse graduate,
who had graduated from the seminary a decade before King's arrival.
King was also familiar with the progressive ideas of Howard University
president Mordecai Johnson, whose 1949 speech in Philadelphia recounting
a trip to India stirred King's interest in Gandhian ideas. Howard
Thurman, whose influential social gospel statement Jesus and
the Disinherited appeared in 1949, was also a family friend
of the Kings: he had attended Morehouse with King, Sr. When Thurman
became Boston University's dean of the chapel, he developed a personal
acquaintance with King, Jr., who was then attending the university.
Benefiting from this extensive exposure to proponents
of African-American social gospel, King was able to perceive theological
training as a means of reconciling his inclination to follow his
father's calling with his desire for intellectual respectability.
King's descriptions of his decision to enter the ministry reveal
that he had accepted the social mission of the church even though
he had not yet resolved his theological doubts. He realized that
the Baptist religion he had absorbed during his youth had derived
mainly from daily contact with church life rather than from theological
reflection. Growing up in the church provided a substitute for orthodox
theological convictions; born a Baptist, he never felt the need
to affirm all the tenets of the denomination. In his "Autobiography
of Religious Development," he explained: "Conversion for me was
never an abrupt something. I have never experienced the so called
.crisis moment.' Religion has just been something that I grew up
in. Conversion for me has been the gradual intaking of the noble
ideals set forth in my family and my environment, and I must admit
that this intaking has been largely unconscious."
The consistency of King's basic religious and political
convictions throughout his life suggest that his collegiate training
was not a transformative experience but was rather a refinement
of preexisting religious attitudes. Recognizing that a Ph.D. degree
from a northern university would set him apart from most other Baptist
ministers, he approached his graduate education with skepticism
and perhaps even a touch of cynicism, self-consciously acquiring
academic credentials-that would add intellectual respectability
to ingrained beliefs rooted in early religious experiences. King's
rejection of scriptural literalism did not lead him away from the
Baptist church but toward an increasing interest in liberal theology.
His understanding that religious belief could be rooted in reason
also enabled him to think more seriously about an idea he had previously
rejected: becoming a minister.
The elder King had always wanted both of his sons
to follow his career choice and eventually, perhaps, serve as pastors
for the Ebenezer congregation. He listened to his wife's entreaties
on the need for the children to make their own career choices, while
hoping that his sons would make use of his connections among Baptists:
"family ties, school and fraternal relationships, the so-called
hometown connections that kept phones ringing and letters moving
in consideration of help requested and granted, favors offered and
accepted." Despite being aware of their father's wishes, however,
King, Jr., and his younger brother, A. D., were reluctant to conform
to paternal expectations. The latter dropped out of Morehouse before
finally deciding on a ministerial career, and the former spent his
first three undergraduate years determined to become first a physician
and then a lawyer--but not a minister like his father. Determined
to assert his independence from his father and continuing to question
aspects of his father's religious beliefs, King, Jr., nevertheless
received a strong impetus toward becoming a preacher from his father's
ever-present example.
A crucial period in King's deliberations about
his career came during the summer of 1947, when he led religious
services for his fellow student workers at a tobacco farm in Simsbury,
Connecticut. Even before leaving Atlanta he had received his preaching
license, and--more than he had during his 1944 stay in Simsbury--welcomed
the opportunity to lead the weekly religious gatherings at the farm.
After several weeks of deliberation, he telephoned his mother from
Simsbury to tell her of his intention to become a minister. By the
time he returned to Morehouse for his final year, he had pushed
doubt out of his mind. His initial inclination to become a doctor
or lawyer was overwhelmed by an "undying urge to serve God and humanity
through the ministry." The decision was the culmination of his experiences.
'My call to the ministry was neither dramatic nor spectacular,"
he later wrote in his application to seminary.
It came neither by some miraculous vision nor
by some blinding light experience on the road of life. Moreover,
it was a response to an inner urge that gradually came upon me.
This urge expressed itself in a desire to serve God and humanity,
and the feeling that my talent and my commitment could best be
expressed through the ministry.... During my senior year in college
I finally decided to accept the challenge to enter the ministry.
I came to see that Cod had placed a responsibility upon my shoulders
and the more I tried to escape it the more frustrated I would
become.
Once the decision was made, King's friends recognized
its inevitability, given his experiences, contacts, and abilities.
Even at this early stage in his development as a preacher, his abilities
as a pulpit orator were evident to those who heard him. Samuel DuBois
Cook recalled that King delivered a "Senior Sermon" in the Morehouse
Chapel a week before graduation. "He knew almost intuitively how
to move an audience," Cook remembered. "He asserted that there are
moral laws in the universe that we cannot violate with impunity,
anymore than we can violate the physical laws of the university
with impunity." King resolved to become a minister, but he continued
to reject the anti-intellectualism that he associated with fundamentalism.
His subsequent critical study of biblical texts and religious practices
was driven by a desire to strengthen the rationale for a decision
he had already made. He applied to several seminaries known to be
academically rigorous and hospitable to liberal religious views,
including Andover Newton in Massachusetts, Union in New York, and
Crozer in Pennsylvania.
King's graduate school education should be viewed
within the context of his struggle to synthesize his father's Christian
practices and his own theological skepticism. Seen from this perspective,
King's experiences at Crozer and Boston constituted neither a pilgrimage
toward the social gospel views of his Crozer professors nor a movement
toward the personalism of those at Boston. Instead, King eclectically
drew upon the writings of academic theologians as he moved away
from Christian liberalism toward a theological synthesis closer
to aspects of his father's religious faith, particularly toward
a conception of God as a source of support in times of personal
need. Rather than becoming more liberal in college, he became increasingly
skeptical of intellectualized conceptions of divinity. As King became
increasingly aware of the limitations of liberal Christian thought,
he acquired a renewed appreciation for his southern Baptist roots.
His Crozer papers occasionally referred to his experiences in order
to explain his theological preferences. He noted that his initial
attraction to liberalism stemmed from its willingness to answer
new problems of cultural and social change," unlike its theological
opponent, fundamentalism, which sought "to preserve the old faith
in a changing milieu."" As he continued his studies, however, King
found his initial attraction to liberal theology "going through
a state of transition-" His personal experience with "a vicious
race problem" had made it "very difficult ... to believe in the
essential goodness of man"; on the other hand, he explained that
"in noticing the gradual improvements of this same race problem
I came to see some noble possibilities in human nature." While remaining
wary of his father's conventional religious beliefs, King was becoming,
he acknowledged, "a victim of eclecticism," seeking to "synthesize
the best in liberal theology with the best in neo-orthodox theology."
At Crozer, King was ' introduced to personalism,
a philosophical school of thought that had developed in the late
nineteenth century at Boston University and other American universities.
After reviewing a text by Boston professor Edgar S. Brightman, a
leading personalist theologian, King reported, in an essay for one
of his classes, that he was .. amazed to find that the conception
of God is so complex and one about which opinions differ so widely."
King conceded that he was still "quite confused as to which definition
[of God] was the most adequate," but thought that Brightman's personalist
theology held the greatest appeal. Its emphasis on the reality of
personal religious experience validated King's own religious experiences.
King reaffirmed his belief that "every man, from the ordinary simplehearted
believer to the philosophical intellectual giant, may find God through
religious experience." His reading of Brightman led him to
discover his own spirituality:
How I long now for that religious experience
which Dr. Brightman so cogently speaks of throughout his book.
It seems to be an experience, the lack of which life becomes dull
and meaningless. As I reflect on the matter, however, I do remember
moments that I have been awe awakened; there have been times that
I have been carried out of myself by something greater than myself
and to that something I gave myself. Has this great something
been God? Maybe after all I have been religious for a number of
years, and am now only becoming aware of it.
Brightman's explanation of religious experience
convinced King that he could experience God's powerful presence
in his own life without the benefit of a sudden religious conversion.
Personalism validated the notion that experience rather than intellectual
reflection should be the basis of religious belief "It is through
experience that we come to realize that some things are out of harmony
with God's will," King wrote in another essay. "No theology is needed
to tell us that love is the law of life and to disobey it means
to suffer the consequences."" King's adoption of personalism as
a theological orientation enabled him to reject abstract conceptions
of God while continuing his search for cogency and intellectual
sophistication.
By the time King entered Boston University, he
was learning how to use his theological training to enrich his preaching
and, in the process, return to his roots as a Baptist preacher.
King's academic theological studies at Crozer had encouraged him
to question many aspects of his religious heritage, but by his final
year King had also become skeptical of many tenets of theological
liberalism. The church of his parents and grandparents had imparted
an understanding of God and of the purposes of Christian ministry
that could not be displaced by theological sophistication. He later
explained that his study of personalism at Crozer and Boston reinforced
his beliefs rather than supplanted them. Personalism's "Insistence
that only personality--finite and infinite--is ultimately real strengthened
me in two convictions: it gave me a metaphysical and philosophical
grounding for the idea of a personal God, and it gave me a metaphysical
basis for the dignity and worth of all human personality."
At Boston, King expanded his criticism of theological
liberalism by adopting many of the ideas of Reinhold Niebuhr.
King applauded Niebuhr's rigorous analysis of "the fundamental weaknesses
and inevitable sterility of the humanistic emphasis" of liberalism
in the twentieth century. He was also drawn to Niebuhr's economic
and moral analysis of capitalism, such as the notion that modern
industrial civilization was responsible for "appalling injustices,"
particularly the "concentration of power and resources in the hands
of a relatively small wealthy class." Injustices are inherent in
human society, Niebuhr argued, because humans engaged in collective
activity are essentially immoral, whereas individuals acting on
their own possess a moral conscience. Niebuhr sought to resolve
the tension between "moral man and immoral society" by reinterpreting
the traditional Christian notion of agape, or divine love.
Agreeing with Niebuhr's analysis, King stated that agape may
not be achievable in an immoral society but "remains a leaven in
society, permeating the whole and giving texture and consistency
to life."
King was particularly receptive to Niebuhr's criticism
of love and justice as conceived in both liberal and orthodox theology.
In orthodoxy, "individual perfection is too often made an end in
itself," whereas liberalism "vainly seeks to overcome justice [through]
purely moral and rational suasions." Liberalism, King wrote, "confuses
the ideal itself with the realistic means which must be employed
to coerce society into an approximation of that ideal." King agreed
with Niebuhr's emphasis on making realistic moral choices and with
his social analysis, but he believed that Niebuhr lacked an adequate
explanation of how agape operates in human history: "He fails to
see that the availability of the divine Agape is an essential
[affirmation] of the Christian religion."
Given the academic environment in which he attended
graduate school, it is hardly surprising that King's theological
writings did not explicitly draw upon the insights of African-American
religion. Yet, although King's graduate school writings understated
the degree to which his attitudes had been shaped by African-American
religious writings, he was certainly aware of the publications of
Kelsey and Mays and probably those of Thurman and Borders. Once
accustomed to contrasting the religious emotionalism of his father's
religion with the intellectual sophistication he saw in the writings
of white academic theologians. King became aware during his graduate
research that orthodox Christianity was not necessarily anti-intellectual.
Overall, King's theological development in seminary
and graduate school reflected his lifelong tendency to incorporate
the best elements of each alternative. As when choosing between
capitalism and communism or between power politics and pacifism,
King sought to synthesize alternative orientations: "An adequate
understanding of man is found neither in the thesis of liberalism
nor in the antithesis of neo-orthodoxy, but in a synthesis which
reconciles the truths of both."" King described his graduate training
as an attempt to bring together "the best in liberal theology with
the best in neo-orthodox theology" in order to come to an understanding
of man. His enormous respect for the writings of Reinhold Niebuhr
derived from the pleasure he felt in finding a theological stance
that synthesized faith and intellect. He probably heard echoes of
his father's fundamentalism in Reinhold Niebuhr's neo-orthodoxy,
which reaffirmed the limits of human perfectibility. Niebuhr provided
an intellectual rationale for King's recognition of the limitations
of liberal theology. As King wrote during these years, he had become
"so enamored of the insights of liberalism that I almost fell into
the trap of accepting uncritically everything it encompasses." After
reading Niebuhr, King recalled becoming more aware of "the depths
and strength of sin" and
the complexity of man's social involvement and
the glaring reality of collective evil. I realized that liberalism
had been all too sentimental concerning human nature and that
it leaned toward a false idealism. I also came to see that the
superficial optimism of liberalism concerning human nature overlooked
the fact that reason is darkened by sin. The more I thought about
human nature, the more I saw how our tragic inclination for sin
encourages us to rationalize our actions. liberalism failed to
show that reason by itself is little more than an instrument tojustify
man's defensive ways of thinking. Reason, devoid of the purifying
power of faith, can never free itself from distortions and rationalizations.
By the time he finished his course work, King
had come to affirm some of the enduring values of his religious
heritage, particularly conceptions of a divine goodness capable
of acting in history. In one qualifying examination King declared
that, despite modern society's moral relativism, God's judgment
was final and eternal. "God has planted in the fiber of the universe
certain eternal laws which forever confront every man. They are
absolute and not relative. There is an eternal and absolute distinction
between right and wrong." One indispensable answer to the theodicy
question, King argued, was contained in the concept of the suffering
servant, one of the "most noble" teachings of the Old Testament.
"His suffering is not due to something that he has done, but it
is vicarious and redemptive. Through his suffering knowledge
of God is [spread) to the unbelieving Gentiles and those unbelievers
seeing that this suffering servant is innocent will become conscious
of their sins and repent and thereby be redeemed. The nation would
be healed by his [wounds]." The death of Jesus Christ on the cross
was the fulfillment of the prophecy of the suffering servant, but
King argued that humanity should not wait on His saving grace. An
individual's "faith and fellowship with God," King wrote, was the
"ultimate solution to the problem of suffering."
King's choice of a dissertation topic reflected
an interest in the nature of God that derived both from his academic
studies and from his preaching. In addition to writing several term
papers on the topic, King wove the theme of theodicy into several
sermons while at Boston, including one entitled "What Does It Mean
to Believe in God?" In his introduction to the dissertation King
explained that the conception of God should be examined because
of "the central place which it occupies in any religion" and because
of "the ever present need to interpret and clarify the God-concept."
By early 1953, when King enrolled in a course
on dissertation writing at the beginning of his research, he was
fairly certain about the conclusions he would reach in his dissertation.
King recognized the limitations in the thinking of theologians Paul
Tillich and Henry Nelson Wieman. "Both overstress one side of the
divine life," he wrote, "while [minimizing] another basic aspect.
Wieman [stresses] the goodness of God while minimizing his power.
Tillich stresses the power of God while [minimizing] his goodness.""
With his own beliefs still rooted in an African American religious
tradition that perceived God as a personal force interceding in
history, King found Tillich's and Wieman's conceptions of divinity
unworthy of worship. In the evaluative chapter, King expressed belief
in a "living" God, not Tillich's "being-itself" or Wieman's "source
of human good." "In God there is feeling and will, responsive to
the deepest yearnings of the human heart; this God both evokes and
answers prayer." Conceiving of such a God as a person was preferable
to Tillich's and Wieman's use of abstract philosophical terms. "It
would be better by far to admit that there are difficulties with
an idea we know--such as personality--than to employ a term which
is practically unknown to us in our experience." King concluded
that Tillich and Wieman both set forth a God who is less than personal,
despite their comments to the contrary suggesting that God was more
than personal, unable to be defined by the concept of personality.
"Both Tillich and Wieman reject the conception of a personal God,
and with this goes a rejection of the rationality, goodness and
love of God in the full sense of the words."
Despite his disagreement with certain aspects of
both men's conceptions of divinity, King appreciated their criticism
of humanism. King approvingly noted that Tillich and Wieman both
emphasized God's immanence, or "the primacy of God over everything
else in the universe." "Such an emphasis," he argued, "sounds a
much needed note in the face of a supernaturalism that finds nature
so irrational that the order of creation can no longer be discerned
in it, and history so meaningless that it all bears the 'minus sign'
of alienation from God." In a characteristic effort to reconcile
two positions that were in dialectical tension, King extracted what
he considered positive aspects of their thought to create an eclectic
synthesis. Echoing his preliminary analysis of their positions,
King asserted that "both Tillich and Wieman are partially correct
in what they affirm and partially wrong in what they deny. Wieman
is right in emphasizing the goodness of God, but wrong in minimizing
his power. Likewise Tillich is right in emphasizing the power of
God, but wrong in minimizing his goodness."
In the sermons King delivered while writing his
dissertation, he expressed his conception of God using more vivid
language than his stilted, derivative academic diction. He skillfully
incorporated into his sermons those aspects of his theological training
that affirmed his ties to the religion of his parents and grandparents.
His father later affirmed that his son's roots in the African-American
preaching tradition remained strong even after years of graduate
study. "M. L. was still a son of the Baptist South, there'd never
be any doubt about that."
King's ability to blend these elements can be seen
in his earliest known recorded sermon, "Rediscovering Lost Values."
King delivered the sermon to a large Baptist church in Detroit in
late February 1954, just days after finishing his final comprehensive
examination and a few weeks before the graduate school approved
his dissertation outline. In the Detroit sermon, King told the familiar
biblical story of Joseph and Mary, who realized, while walking to
Nazareth, that they had left Jesus behind in Jerusalem. just as
Joseph and Mary had returned to rejoin Jesus, King advised, society
should rediscover the precious values that had become lost in the
rationalizations that guided behavior in the modern world. "If we
are to go forward," he said, "if we are to make this a better world
in which to live, we've got to go back. We've got to rediscover
these precious values that we've left behind." Despite the many
technological advances and material comforts of American society,
King argued, humanity had lost the spiritual compass provided by
a deep and abiding faith in God. "The real problem is that through
our scientific genius we've made of the world a neighborhood, but
through our moral and spiritual genius we've failed to make of it
a brotherhood." King insisted that "all reality hinges on moral
foundations," that "this is a moral universe, and ... there are
moral laws of the universe, just as abiding as the physical laws."
Decrying ethical relativism—"Now, I'm not trying to use a big
word here"--King expressed a belief in moral absolutes that evoked
enthusiastic responses from the congregation.
I'm here to say to you this morning that some
things are right and some things are wrong. (Yes) Eternally so,
absolutely so. It's wrong to hate. (Yes, That's right)
It always has been wrong and it always will be wrong! (Amen)
It's wrong in America, it's wrong in Germany, it's wrong in Russia,
it's wrong in China! (Lord help him) It was wrong in two
thousand BC, and it's wrong in nineteen-fifty-four AD! It always
has been wrong, (That's right) and it always will be wrong!
... Some things in this universe are absolute. The God of the
universe has made it so.
In King's view contemporary society had lost sight
of this "mighty precious value," adopting instead "a pragmatic test
for right and wrong." In the modern world, he asserted, most people
believed that "it's all right to disobey the Ten Commandments, but
just don't disobey the Eleventh, Thou shall not get caught." The
moral decay that King identified in modern culture could be recovered
only by ethical living. "The thing that we need in the world today,
is a group of men and women who will stand up for right and be opposed
to wrong, wherever it is."
King argued that making ethical decisions was
impossible without rediscovering the precious value of faith in
God. King charged that many people, including those who attended
church every Sunday, had lost their faith in God. "We must remember
that it's possible to affirm the existence of God with your lips
and deny his existence with your life." Returning to the biblical
parable, King asserted that "we had gone a whole day's journey,
and then we came to see that we had unconsciously ushered God out
of the universe." The materialism of American consumer culture had
caused some to lose sight of God, and King cautioned that "automobiles
and subways, televisions and radios, dollars and cents, can never
be substitutes for God."
King's sermon drew upon traditional African-American
religious ideas, particularly the notion of God acting in human
history. Alluding to a verse in Psalm 23 and to a familiar hymn,
King concluded by affirming faith in the God "who walks with us
through the valley of the shadow of death, and causes us to fear
no evil," in the God "who has been our help in ages past, and our
hope for years to come, and our shelter in the time of storm, and
our eternal home." King concluded with a rousing affirmation
of God as an integral part of his life. "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."
Seen in the context of his preadult experiences,
King's graduate school years enabled him - to acquire academic credentials
while retaining his basic religious beliefs. When he applied to
Boston University's doctoral program, King had stressed his desire
to enter the world of theological scholarship, stating that he was
"desirous of teaching in a college or a school of religion. At Crozer,
King had initially been estranged from his roots, but by the time
he entered Boston University he had rediscovered the liberating
potential of his African-American Baptist heritage. Although he
clearly wanted to base his religious beliefs on solid theological
foundations, he left Boston as a preacher rather than as a scholar.
Forging an eclectic synthesis from such diverse sources as personalism,
theological liberalism, neo-orthodox theology, and the activist,
Bible-centered religion of his heritage, King affirmed his abiding
faith in a God who was both a comforting personal presence and a
powerful spiritual force acting in history for righteousness. This
faith would sustain him as the civil rights movement irreversibly
transformed his life.
King's rapid rise to prominence resulted from
his ability to combine the insights of European-American theological
scholarship with those of African-American homiletics. Although
his published descriptions of his 11 pilgrimage to non-violence"
generally emphasized the impact of his academic training," in more
personal statements he acknowledged his black Baptist roots. "I
am many things to many people," King acknowledged in 1965, "but
in the quiet recesses of my heart, I am fundamentally a clergyman,
a Baptist preacher. This is my being and my heritage for I am also
the son of a Baptist preacher, the grandson of a Baptist preacher
and the great-grandson of a Baptist preacher." Rather than being
torn between mutually exclusive cultural traditions, King's public,
transracial ministry marked a convergence of theological scholarship
and social gospel practice. Drawing upon a variety of intellectual
and religious traditions to arouse and enlighten his listeners,
King was profoundly affected by his experiences both as a preacher's
son at Ebenezer and as a diligent student at Crozer Seminary and
Boston University. King's theological education distinguished him
from all but a few African-American preachers and temporarily separated
him from his childhood environment, but theological studies ultimately
led King to a deeper appreciation of traditional African-American
conceptions of God as a source of support, especially in times of
personal crisis. Later in his career as a movement leader, King
would reflect that when he had "been battered by the storms of persecution,"
he had gained strength and determination from
the reality of a personal God. True, I have always
believe[d] in the personality of God. But in the past the idea
of a personal God was little more than a metaphysical category
that I found theologically and philosophically satisfying. Now
it is a living reality that has been validated in the experience
of everyday life. God has been profoundly real to me in recent
years.
Clayborne Carson
"Martin Luther King, Jr., and the African-American Social
Gospel." In African-American Christianity, edited
by Paul E. Johnson, 159-177. Berkeley: University of California
Press, 1994. Reprinted African-American Religion: Interpretive
Essays in History and Culture, ed. by Tomothy E. Fulop and
Albert J. Raboteau. New York: Routledge, 1997.
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