The Talk: Struggle of Dance and Love

The Talk: Struggle of Dance and Love

            This Saturday I am the keynote speaker for the Collin College Power Leadership Breakfast.  When my friend Ada asked if she could submit my name, I was honored and said yes.  I was pretty sure I would not be chosen because I am a 59-year-old white guy.  I always imagined the speakers for these events as dynamic black speakers.  I was selected.  Perhaps my friend Ada made a good case. Or the committee heard of the work I have been doing in racism.  God certainly has a mischievous sense of humor.

            My talk is to be 20-25 minutes.  I have struggled with what to say.  It is not that I don’t have enough to say.  I read books.  I listened to podcasts.  I had deep conversation with people around racism.  I have pages and pages of notes.  But people do not want to hear me report on what I have heard and read and seen. I am being asked to share out of who I am, out of my reflections on Dr. King, out of my own broken heart around racism.  I am asked to speak a word of hope in the midst of this time.

            Normally when I prepare a sermon, I do my bible study.  I have some ideas float around in my head. I try to connect what the text says to who the congregation is. I structure an outline.  At this point, I have a pretty good bible study.  But it is not a sermon.  For the outline to become a sermon requires deep soul work.  It means truly wrestling with the text until a Yes rises up in me.  This wrestling can consume two or three days.  I have gone to bed Saturday night not knowing how the sermon was going to end, which is not a good thing for me or the hearer of the sermon. I keep wrestling through the night.

            At some point in this process, the Spirit shows up. I never know when that will be. Sometimes the Spirit helps me to see what I need to say.  Sometimes the Spirit shows me where I have missed the point and might even tell me what that point needs to be.  I say the Spirit because this is my experience. Something comes from somewhere to engage and encounter me in a new way.  I feel the energy.  I feel the grace.  After much struggle and wondering if I am going to have anything new to say, I am gifted with what needs to be proclaimed.

            This is my experience with the Martin Luther King Power Leadership Breakfast talk.  I wrote a good outline with lots of good points. I did lots of work on the outline.  The outline is too long, way longer than the 20-25 minutes. It is hard for me to get my head wrapped around, so I can imagine how difficult it will be for the listener. Martin Luther King’s legacy, ongoing racism today, the inability to talk are all important topics that need to be discussed. How do I speak in a way to be heard?

            I was so frustrated on Wednesday that I had an hour-long prayer time in my prayer chair, then went to Erwin Park, a wonderful rustic park in north McKinney with majestic trees. I walked in anger, using language I don’t normally use.  I was mad at the Spirit.  Where was she? I was frustrated at me.  What was I missing? I said some breath prayers and glared at the sky.  Why won’t this come together? What more am I to do?  What is blocking me?

            I found a wonderful cedar tree, filled with branches that went every direction. I sat down and looked at this 50-foot-tall tree.  I told it my story of struggling.  I discussed with it all the work I have done, all my frustration, all my fears over not being ready.  Then I sat in silence and listened. 

            I heard no response.  Then quietly this thought came to my mind. “You are a lover of soul and an inviter to the dance.” I sat with that.  This talk, to which I have given so much importance, is an opportunity to be a lover of soul and an inviter to the dance.  That will mean struggle.  That will mean lots of seeking and reading and listening.  That will mean surrendering, giving up in order to let that dance emerge and the soul sing.  This invitation will ask much of me so I can ask much of the listeners.

            I spoke a thank you to the wonderful cedar tree and headed home, not knowing where the talk will go but knowing I will love soul(s) and I will invite others to the dance.