(Editor’s note: The following is a submission to The Recorder’s weekly column, “Faith Matters.” Each Saturday, a different faith leader in Franklin County offers a personal perspective in this space. To become part of this series, email religion@recorder.com or call 413-772-0261, ext. 265.)
The threatening phone calls started to pour in right after the newscast was over. My father, Rev. Charles Prestwood, a pastor and civil rights activist, appeared on the Huntley-Brinkley report as he spoke at a gathering of clergy in Washington, D.C., to memorialize James Reeb (bit.ly/2j1fZgd). Reeb, an Episcopal priest, was murdered for his participation in the Selma march in Alabama in 1965.
Though many supportive phone calls came, my mother was fearful enough that she asked some of the men from the church to stay at the house with her and us, her four children, until my dad returned home from Washington, D. C. “Daddy” told me later that the vitriol had been so violent, he sat up in a rocking chair with a shotgun across his lap for a few nights in a row to guard the house. He eventually realized that he couldn’t keep us safe — only God could.
The Selma March, a civil rights march from Selma to Montgomery, Ala., dominated the news cycle for the next few weeks, with pictures of the exultant crowd of marchers, and of detractors spewing hate. Crowds were often whipped into white-hot hate and several more people were killed for their decision to march.
I don’t really remember all that because I was 8 years old. But I do remember that Easter Sunday in Montgomery in 1965, about a month after James Reeb’s death.
You see, it was different in church. On that Easter Sunday, we experienced our first “kneel-in,” where members of black churches visited white congregations to see if they would be seated. Martin Luther King, Jr. had said in a 1960 news conference that “Sunday morning at 11 o’clock is one of the most segregated hours in Christian America.” The kneel-ins were an attempt to inspire the compassion and conscience of churchgoers.
I was sitting in the pew with my sisters, dressed in my Easter bonnet and my flowered Easter dress, with my white patent leather shoes. I had brought some jelly beans to church in my white patent leather purse and I was trying to surreptitiously get a few out to eat during the service. My father was in the pulpit and my mother was in the choir.
Suddenly, there was rustling in the back of the church and five African-American visitors were at the door. The ushers knew what to do. The church had been talking about this moment for a long time and decided to go against the tide and welcome any visitor who came. The official Board of the church had voted on it at the last meeting.
The visitors were politely shown to the front pew (because it was the only one open) and were handed their bulletins. Their shock and exhilaration were registered mutely on the faces of the parishioners. Though there was hardly a sound, I remember the moment because it felt like something huge was happening. This feeling was confirmed when I watched my mother’s face, flooded with tears and my father dabbing his eyes as he headed to the pulpit.
My mother remembers one tall, dark man singing in a resounding bass voice without looking at the words: “O Love Divine, What Hast Thou Done?”
After the service was over, my dad was jubilant and expansive at Sunday dinner. Maybe this would be the beginning of a wave of love that crashed over us all. Maybe everything would change.
But, it didn’t happen quite so quickly or easily. Nothing ever does.
However, we all treasured that moment in our hearts, knowing it was a vision of what could be.
Celebrating Martin Luther King, Jr. Day reminds us of the vision of the world where we are all judged by the “content of our character, rather than the color of our skin.”
What would it be like and how can we take a step closer to that day?
Athol Congregational Church, United Church of Christ, is a community church offering an extravagant welcome to all. Worship is at 10 a.m. Our newly renovated Church School has interactive classes for ages 3 to 18 at 10 a.m. Children learn about the Bible through hands-on activities such as crafts, computer games, puppets and our map room. Free breakfast for all children and teens is served from 9:30 to 10 a.m. The church is located at 1225 Chestnut St. Tel. 978-249-6202. Email: atholcc@verizon.net. Rev. Prestwood-Taylor’s email is: accucc@gmail.com