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Part I.

Introduction: When UUs and History Meet

In the summer of 2006, while I was a seminarian at Meadville Lombard Theological School in Chicago, I had the opportunity to join the recently retired Reverend Gordon Gibson, his wife Judy, and thirty fellow UU ministers and ministers-in-training, for a tour of the deep south. Gordon named it a Southern Civil Rights Tour.

In the mid-1960s, Reverend Gibson’s first ministerial call was to the UU church in Jackson Mississippi. During the years he and Judy lived and worked in Mississippi, they had the opportunity to meet and work with many of the leaders of and participants in the Civil Rights Movement who had been every degree of activists, some since the 1950s. Many of these men and women had grandparents who were slaves, and parents who grew up in the post-Civil War South and the reality of Jim Crow.

Every black person we met, including our bus driver Joseph, were ‘foot soldiers’ during those turbulent times. All generations of local residents marched, were arrested, were chased by the KKK, were beaten and even killed, but they never gave up trying to register at their local courthouse so they could vote.

Our 8-day itinerary would take us to Nashville; then to Birmingham and the 16th Avenue Baptist Church where we attended the Sunday service with folks who were there on April 29, 1963, when the four elementary school girls were putting on their choir robes for church and were suddenly blown apart by a KKK bomb; to Marion Mississippi (the childhood home of Coretta Scott King); to Selma and the Edmund Pettis Bridge; to Montgomery (the place where Rosa Parks started a year-long bus boycott) and a tour of Martin Luther King’s Dexter Avenue Church; to Money Mississippi and the site of 12 year old Emmet Till’s brutal and hideous murder in 1955; to the Neshoba County Fairgrounds -- the heart of the KKK white supremist community where the murder of three civil rights workers inspired the movie, Mississippi Burning; to Jackson where I stood in Medgar Evers’ kitchen where, after passing through Evers’ body then the living room window, the assassin’s high-powered bullets pierced through the wall into the kitchen bouncing off the refrigerator and one finally exploding the watermelon that was setting on the kitchen counter; and then a visit to beautiful Tougaloo College founded in 1869 for 2 freed black slaves. And if all that wasn’t enough, we ended the tour in Memphis Tennessee where, as I gazed out the window of the warehouse across the street from the Lorraine Hotel, I knew I was in the exact spot Dr. King’s assassin sat waiting for him to walk out onto the hotel room balcony on the morning of April 4, 1968.

Needless to say, the tour was life-changing for me because until then, I had only experienced the American Civil Rights Movement through a child’s eyes watching and listening to Walter Cronkite on the evening news.

The scrapbook I put together after the tour not only has pictures, journal entries, and souvenirs, it has transcripts of the conversations we had in the churches with the foot soldiers, the youngest of whom we met were in their sixties. The packet I put together for you to take home, if you’d like, is transcripts of conversations, we had with some of the folks we met in Marion. While they were deeply involved for years in trying to get their county clerk to let them register and vote, many of them had been traveling the thirty miles or so to Selma to be part of the march to Montgomery after the killing of Jimmie Lee Jackson.

Where the Civil Rights Movement and Unitarian Universalism intersect in real life, is the story of James Reeb. All my adult life, I have been an activist and if I’ve learned one thing about the struggle for justice is that you can’t give up.

So every time an opportunity arises to share my story and the stories that were given to me, I take it because, from the very beginning of time, stories are how humans learn the difference between wrong and right.

There are so many different ways to be an activist in the struggle for justice, that anyone who chooses to serve this greater good must start by learning the stories and then passing them on. For some, being a story-teller is being a dedicated activist.

I often wonder which one of my grandchildren will want my scrapbook and who will be the story keeper and story teller after I am gone. No matter which grandchild it is, I am confident these stories, and all the ones which have not been gifted to me, will continue to inspire action in the service of all that causes life to flourish. 3

My grandchildren are already learning from me about the American Civil Rights Movement, and how all the layers of connected issues still have a vital role in the epic struggle for true justice --- and don’t let anyone tell us otherwise.

Part II.

Homily: When UUs and Justice Meet

Excerpt (adapted) from “Uplifting the Vision: James Reeb and the Struggle for Civil Rights” by Beth Lefever

James Reeb, A Unitarian Universalist minister was about as devout a Christian Presbyterian as one could ever expect to find.

A biblical literalist who, while in college, would rise at 3 a.m. on a Monday morning to study rather than break the biblical injunction to rest on the sabbath. Reeb was uncompromising in his ideals, values, and beliefs until, after diligent and exhaustive thought, study and discussion with those he respected and trusted, he came to the conclusion his childhood beliefs were significantly lacking.

James Reeb was a man of utmost integrity who found living outside his belief system intolerable. When that insight occurred, he realigned his values-structure and committed fully and deeply to change. This is how he became a Unitarian.

What guided his intense passion to remain true to his ideals? As he explained it, he was guided by an inner light that would not let him go, and which informed all of the important decisions he made in his life.

This light apparently began to shine early in Reeb, for he trod the moral high ground from boyhood, working hard to live out those values, honed and hewn through careful thought, study, discourse and debate. Perhaps it was a light reflected off his parents, both of whom also strove to live morally righteous lives.

James’ father was a caring, attentive man, who worked hard to provide for his small family. James’ mother, whose first child was stillborn, was in labor when she dedicated the life of her 4 second baby to God. A devout woman, she held firmly to that ideal and was supported by Jim’s equally devout father. Mrs. Reeb devoted herself to the care and nurturing of her son who, though born healthy, fought several serious illnesses throughout his childhood.

The most debilitating of these diseases was rheumatic fever, which kept young James confined to total bed rest for a very long period of time during which his mother nursed and tutored him and was his closest companion.

James was doted on, in the best sense of the word, by his highly principled parents. As his biographer, Duncan Howlett, suggests, as a child who was often the center of attention, James, “… learned early both to demand it and respond successfully to it.”

But this love of attention was just one among any number of characteristics and occurrences which guided and informed his life’s journey. Another was a physical anomaly which profoundly affected who he was to become.

Though attractive in both appearance and temperament, he was cross-eyed as a child, and he learned early what it was like to be set apart because of physical characteristics over which one had no control. As a teenager, James underwent an operation which corrected the problem and he was grateful to feel less visually distinctive and more able to fit in. But his sensitivity and capacity for empathy were strongly shaped out of this experience.

Another formative influence was the home atmosphere in which he was raised. James’ parents were thoughtful, intelligent people who highly valued both education and religion. From an early age, James embraced those values also, particularly in matters of faith. He was a very serious student.

As he studied and matured, James became more staunchly literal in his interpretation of the Bible and he struggled to live according to his understanding of Biblical mandates. For example, while studying the Sermon on the Mount in college, he became quite distraught that he could not bring himself to give away the second of his two suits, believing that was what Jesus would have him do.

He really needed two suits, however, because he was very involved in church, often providing pulpit supply during the time when those in the pulpit were expected to be dressed up. 5

Another of his ideals was serving the poor. Reeb fervently believed he was called by the life and message of Jesus to put his efforts into serving the disadvantaged.

He began doing so in earnest after he became ordained a Presbyterian minister and then serving as a hospital chaplain in Philadelphia. There he came face to face with the meaning of poverty, and the cultural deprivation and restrictions resulting from it.

There too, he first came to know African Americans. Reeb came to the stark realization that, save the prejudice, poverty and discrimination which so powerfully affected their lives, (folks with black skin) were people just like him.

James’ journey to Unitarian Universalism included a lot of painstaking soul-searching which was informed by his deepening understanding of the psychiatric principles to which he was exposed in school. The real-life experiences of being a hospital chaplain in a large diverse city like Philadelphia also were very influential.

This growing understanding of psychiatry began to create a crisis of faith for the young minister. He began to believe psychiatry demonstrated a far greater understanding of human problems than did theology, a realization that begged the painful question for him: “Was God less understanding than many doctors?” That question caused him to examine his theology even more closely, taking seriously the doubts that others might simply have learned to embrace as part of the complexity of religious faith.

As he did with all things, Reeb delved deeply into his own heart in search for answers and sought the advice of others with whom he had a spiritual and intellectual rapport. Among these were his parents, who were concerned about his growing doubts, and finally heartbroken by his decision to leave the Presbyterian ministry.

His choice to move into the Unitarian ministry did nothing to assuage their dismay. But they had taught him to be true to himself, and as close as he was to his parents, and as much as their distress saddened him, he honored that which they had so successfully taught him.

His move to Unitarianism also was sparked by the book, Today’s Children, Yesterday’s Heritage by Unitarian educator Sophia Lyon Fahs. The book was given to him by a friend, and what Fahs had to say resonated deeply with James. 6

He had come to believe that “…true religion must be centered in man rather than in God.” Reverend Reeb was beginning to identify himself more and more as a humanist rather than a theist.

He also began to seriously question the spiritual efficacy of creedal churches. In a letter written to a friend around this time he said:

A church based on a confession cannot in the final analysis be devoted to seeking truth. It must be devoted to upholding the ideas set forth in the creed.

These ideas may be true. It is just that, to my mind, the confessional church does not provide a setting within which to test whether they are or not. Any man considering the validity of the essentials of the confession realizes what conclusions he must reach if he is going to be able to remain within the church.”

He sought out a Unitarian Pastor, The Reverend Dr. Harry Scholefield of the First Unitarian Church of Philadelphia, with whom he could discuss his changing beliefs. After their first discussion, Reeb’s decision to move into Unitarian ministry came very quickly, though the denomination’s acceptance of him took far longer than he would have liked.

Eventually however, Reverend Reeb was invited to the position of Assistant Minister at all Souls Church in Washington D.C., where his biographer, Duncan Howlett, was the Senior Minister.

Reeb took with him to All Souls a highly tuned sensitivity to the human struggle, and specifically to the plight of African Americans in this country.

For five years, Reeb thrived at All Souls Church throwing himself wholly, as was his fashion, into his new-found faith, and particularly into community outreach. He organized a clothing closet, as well as transportation to doctor’s appointments for children whose mothers worked.

He also joined with Howard University to form a University Neighborhoods Council to explore ways to improve the lives of people living in the neighborhoods around the church.

Finally, he came to see his passion lay not in parish work, but rather in working with the underprivileged. He wanted to take the church into the worst urban slums where he really could live out his theological beliefs of serving the poor and disadvantaged. This work fit very well 7 with his earliest views of what Jesus would have him do. And it surely fit the UU principles he had come to embrace and love.

Upon leaving All Souls, Reeb went to work for the American Friends Service Committee in Boston just as that organization was preparing to launch a new community development program in Roxbury, Massachusetts. Reverend Howlett described it as, “a virtual Negro ghetto where the social needs were very great.”

This is what Reeb wanted more than anything. According to Howlett (James wanted), “To go to the decaying heart of a city and work among the people who were its victims.”

The Unitarian Universalist Association, in response to this move, changed Reverend Reeb’s status from ‘full fellowship’ to ‘associate fellowship.’

Despite the professional slight, Reeb was not dissuaded from his new commitment, and it was while working in Roxbury that he heeded Dr. King’s call to join the march to Montgomery.

He did not do so rashly. He did not do so fearlessly, He was the father of four young children and the sole support of his family. He knew the risks and was not unafraid.

In considering it, he did what he so often did when sorting through tough issues and difficult choices. He discussed it with those he trusted, including his wife, Marie, who supported his making the trip. He also discussed it with a black colleague and friend, The Reverend Virgil Wood, who was an early representative for the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (in New England).

Wood urged him to go saying, “In the first place, it is important for you to be there as a human being. Secondly, it will be an eye-opener for you to see for yourself what can happen to protesters in the South - not just to see it on television, but to be there and take a whack or two of your own. But most of all, and I’m speaking as a Negro, I think it is important for a white man to stand with the Negro in whatever hell hole he finds himself. It is important for white people to share in the sufferings Negroes have had to endure.”

And so, James Reeb responded to Dr. King’s call. 8

He responded as one of approximately 500 Unitarian Universalists ministers, (and dozens of) lay people who flew to Selma to march with Dr. King from Selma, over the Edmund Pettis Bridge, and another 50 or so miles to Montgomery.

James Reeb responded partly on the basis of the advice he had received, but in actuality, and as life had shaped him, he could have done no other thing. It was who he was. It was what he was about.

The plan was to march to Montgomery, crossing the Edmund Pettus Bridge where marchers had been brutally and violently halted two days before, in what has become known as “Bloody Sunday.” A judge had issued an injunction against the Tuesday march, and a final ruling wouldn’t be available until Thursday.

But Dr. King felt he couldn’t disappoint the hundreds of marchers who had traveled from all over the county to participate, so he negotiated a compromise which would allow them to march to just beyond the point on the bridge where they had been stopped on Sunday.

When they reached the point where they had been attacked on Sunday, the U. S Marshals indicated the marchers could proceed beyond that point, but Dr. King feared a trap and so turned the marchers around and led them back the same way they had come. He expected (the judge’s ruling on) Thursday’s would approve the march, and so he urged those who could to stay. Reeb made a last-minute decision to do so.

That night, he went to dinner with two other Unitarian ministers, Rev. Orloff Miller and Rev. Clark Olsen. They had asked around the organizer headquarters for a dinner recommendation and were referred to Walker’s Café, an integrated restaurant not far from Brown Chapel, the main gathering place for the marchers.

As we drove along the quiet tree-lined country road to Selma, we watched the video of an interview with Cark Olsen. He was one of the 500 UU ministers who answered the call from Dr. King to come to Selma and march to Montgomery after Bloody Sunday. He, Orlof Miller and James Reeb arrived in Selma and were waiting for the federal injunction to be lifted so the marchers could proceed. 9

All the meetings were being held at Brown’s Chapel and that is where the three men were headed when they left a small black=owned café after dinner. A couple of blocks to the west, three local white men left a small tavern and saw the ministers leaving the café. They drove down the street, circled around and approached the ministers. James Reeb was closest to the curb, so he caught the full force of the 2x4 one of the locals was swinging. His skull was fractured.

I came back by myself very early the next morning and stood on this place where another cold-blooded murder happened.

There is no visible blood on the sidewalk, but I know it is there – I can see it. I can smell it. I can feel. It. I will always cry because of it.

There is a memorial marker and when you turn around you see the whole side of the small building painted with a colorful mural dedicated to James Reeb. Jimmie Lee Jackson and all the other martyrs who died for the cause of freedom. These Civil Right markers can only be found at the movement churches, museums, an specific sites. There are none to be found at public or local government cites.

Because his family moved to Wyoming when he was a baby, James always considered himself to be from Casper. It was in Casper that I shook President Lyndon Johnson’s hand when I was in the second grade – soon after he had signed the Voting Rights Act. My oldest son was born in Casper and my youngest son currently works for the Natrona County Sheriff’s Department.

And, I can now add to my journal entry that several years after eating dinner at Walkers Café in Selma Alabama and bearing witness to the cause and circumstances of James Reeb’s death, I became the minister of the Unitarian Universalist church in Casper.

Neither Olsen nor Miller was seriously injured, but Reeb’s condition was critical. He died on March 11, 1964.

Two weeks later, 30,000 people marched from Selma, over the Edmund Pettus Bridge and into Montgomery. According to his biographers and friends, James would have liked to have seen that. He would have liked to have participated. And in fact, he did in a sense, for his death 10 swelled the number of marchers who came to Selma because his death finally rallied the necessary outrage across the country to affect change.

But Reeb also might have been dismayed that it took the death of a white minister to ignite the country to action, when the prior deaths and sacrifices of so many Blacks had not. He also might have been proud that he died as he had lived - passionately true to his convictions to the point that his death was the final catalyst for the passage of the Voting Rights Act in this country.

Perhaps the words he wrote a short time before his death describing the shift in his theological perspective were prophetic,

I want to participate in the continuous creation of a vision that will inspire people to noble and courageous living. I want to share actively in the adventure of trying to forge the spiritual ties that will bind mankind together in brotherhood and peace.

He, along with so many others who sacrificed so much in advancing the cause of civil rights, truly and fully lived the values which fully uplifted this vison.

We, all of us who are alive today, have benefitted from so many sacrifices, and we, hopefully, are better humans because of the inspiring examples of courage … for the world has never been a safe place. It has never been a fair place, nor is it even now.

As Unitarian Universalists, we profess high ideals and in looking to the lives of those who have struggled, made courageous sacrifices, been hurt, and even died, we see they were inspired by the very same values we consider our own.

May the stories of passion and commitment reinforce our own courage to continue the struggle for justice for everyone for as long as it takes.

Part III.

When UU and Justice Meet

When Dr. Martin Luther King delivered the eulogy at Reverend Reeb’s Memorial service on March 15, 1965, he said,

… when we move from the who to the what, the blame is wide and responsibility grows…. 11

James Reeb was murdered by the indifference of every minister who has remained silent…by the irrelevancy of a church that serves as an echo and not a voice…by the irresponsibility of every politicians who has moved down the path of demagoguery and who has fed his constituents the stale bread of hatred and the spoiled meat of racism… Reeb was murdered by the brutality of every sheriff and law enforcement agent who practices lawlessness in the name of law… and by the timidity of a federal government that can spend millions of dollars a day to keep troops in South Vietnam yet cannot protect the lives of its own citizens’ (and their) constitutional rights….

Yes, he was even murdered by the cowardice of every Negro who tacitly accepts the evil system of segregation, who stands on the sidelines in the midst of a might struggle for justice….

His death says to us that we must work passionately, unrelentingly, to make the American dream a reality, so he did not die in vain.

In times of conflict and struggle when many kinds of sacrifice are involved, it is in our human nature to search for meaning because reality exists in more than one dimension. Yes, death is the end of life, and in most instances, death is an expected and logical destination after, hopefully, a long and enjoyed life.

But when we move beyond the literal into that dimension where death demands justice because its unfairness is compelling us to find a greater meaning, we move away from a purely human dimension and into an existential dimension where the why questions exist – where the essence of God mingles with the human spirit.

Justice is an ideal Americans believe in so fervently, that our cumbersome and complex system of justice is one of the constitutional pillars of our self-governance model. When something bad happens to a ‘good person’ Americans want to make sure fairness is the defining feature of justice.

And so when our thoughts and actions move beyond the literal, we find ourselves in the world of values, morals, ethics, and true compassion. In the old paradigm, this realm was traditionally the purview of religion – of God. In cases where justice needs to be served because it seems no fair response can be formulated, traditionally, God has been the final arbitrator. 12

In the vivid cases where humans are struggling to arrive at justice, many times a seemingly unfair resolution is the best that can be done. And if one believes ultimate justice is in God’s hands, then a pathway to peace has been created.

But, if the human soul craves justice, that sense of fairness, in order to be healthy and thrive, and God’s justice is never actualized in a lifetime, then is it really possible for any human to be more understanding than God?

Unitarian Universalists value the inherent goodness, that inner light each of us is born with, as well as our natural capability to reach a greater understanding that, in the past, was only attainable through belief in a God.

UUs also value rationality, common sense, science, and the power of deep compassion. We do not believe humans are God but that we are capable of actualizing the divine power within high ideals, such as justice while we are still alive on this earth. In this way, it doesn’t really matter if you believe in a God, because the realm of values, morals, ethics and great compassion, is the realm of divinity – of that greater power which we have a sacred duty to access and use in order to arrive at a just response to unfairness.

This is what it means for human beings to give meaning to sacrifice, and in so doing, our activism within in the struggle for justice is a vital part of the transformative process.

High ideals and expectation of goodness shaped by common sense, fairness, science, deep empathy and compassion – are what give all the dimensions of our lives together meaning.

Justice is the high ideal where we can find peace after something bad has happened -- to anyone - - after all, every person is born with a divine inner light and UUs believe justice is better served when we start there first.