Long and Dusty Road

By The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud

And so, our long and dusty journey into the wilderness has begun. Lent not only helps us to recall the forty days that Jesus spent in the wilderness as he prepared himself for his ministry but it also gives us an opportunity to go inward and prepare ourselves all over again for the reality that God has for us. It's an opportunity for us to ask ourselves "Where am I as another Lent begins? Where am I on my faith journey at this moment in time?"

When we look closer at today's Gospel, there is an invitation there for us to understand more abundantly what it means to move from the river into the desert. Jesus, after having been baptized in the River Jordan was led into the desert by the power of the Spirit. It is in the barren desert, rife with temptation and angst, that Jesus comes to understand what the will and purpose that God had for his life. And while Satan or the devil or whichever axis of evil tempted him, we find that the choices Jesus had to make were quite similar to those that we confront in our own personal and spiritual decisions.

Forty days is a long time to roam in a barren desert. But imagine what it would be like to roam in a barren desert for 40 years or more. A desert that borders a land rich with resources; where it borders a land touted to have equal opportunity for all; where it borders a land where all you had to do was work hard to achieve the so-called "American" dream. What do you think would happen to your psyche if intermittingly during those 40 years of desert roaming, you came ever so close to leaving the dustiness of that place only to have someone block your exit and push you even further into the thistle and brush of the desert? Many of us would crumble and fall prey to the vultures circling above. Some of us would compromise our very souls to buy our way out that place. And then, there are others like Absalom Jones, Sojourner Truth, Harriet Tubman, and one in particular whose story I'd like to share with you briefly, The Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray, who not only lived barren, desert lives, but who emerged with absolute resolve, from their personal deserts as significant contributors to our American and African-American history and heritage.

The Rev. Dr. Pauli Murray was the granddaughter of a slave and a great-granddaughter of a slave owner who overcome extraordinary barriers throughout her life. She was born during the height of Jim Crow segregation in Durham, North Carolina in 1910 and was forced endure the wholesale burdens of being a black person in a segregated society. Murray had considerable talents as a writer, activist, and attorney, yet these talents would and could not spare her from the prolific racism and sexism that denied her other educational and career opportunities throughout her life. She lived a lifetime on the margins of racial identity and came to a deep understanding of the connectedness that bound all people together and scoffed at the absurd cruelty of segregation. Murray believed strongly that whites, as well as blacks, had much knowledge and experience to gain from racial interaction and she spent most of her years refuting the shallow myths of segregation. Murray's racial policies centered on inclusiveness of all of the races and later on when her gender became another barrier, she focused as much energy and verve on addressing yet another oppressive system that proved to slowly strangle and kill the spirits of those affected.

As I was pulling my thoughts together for my sermon this week, I took a few minutes and I called Rev. Sandye Wilson who was a protégé of Pauli Murray and I asked her to share some thoughts of Pauli. Rev. Sandye told me that Pauli's life was very much like today's Gospel story – a life of living in the desert. Rev. Sandye went on to tell me, that when Pauli emerged from her wilderness, she ended up doing some extraordinary things in the midst of constant conflict. Pauli she said evaded and eluded many temptations to sell out her soul and principles and oftentimes, was soundly rejected by her own people and community. Yet, Rev. Sandye went on to say, "Pauli remained strong in the face of incredible odds and adversities – she was never afraid because she knew she was never alone." From the little that I've been able to read of Pauli, she refused to be kept down by regrets or expectations of her past. Instead, she lived on the fringes of history and in many cases, just pulled history along with her.

Pauli's journey that eventually led to a law degree from Howard University, a master's degree from the University of California's law school and a Ph.D. from Yale was neither a clear or straight path – she travelled many a long and dusty road in pursuit of her dreams.

Pauli took leading roles in both the civil rights and feminism movements. A friend said of her, "Murray was a civil rights activist before there was activism and a feminist when feminists could not be found." Pauli was a living testament to the ability of a black woman to garner achievements to the match of anyone, black or white, male or female. Her political activism challenged the exclusion of blacks and women before many of these issues were even on the national forefront. She fought for integration before it became a goal of the leading civil rights organizations such as the NAACP whose primary focus was on achieving equal rights, not integration. In 1940, Pauli along with a friend were arrested, jailed and fined for refusing to go to the back of a Virginia bus. This was a precursor to the "jail-no bail" strategy that would gain popularity 20 years later. While a student at Howard in the mid 40's, she participated in sit-in movements to desegregate Washington D.C.'s restaurants and other public facilities long before sit-in's were the mode of choice for the civil rights movement in the 60's.

She was rejected early on to the University of North Carolina law school because of her race and later on, after winning a fellowship to Harvard University, was denied admittance there because of her gender. These experiences guaranteed that Pauli would be both pioneer in civil rights and women's rights. In 1945 Murray successfully completed her Masters of Law degree from the University of California, Berkeley. Her master's thesis was The Right to Equal Opportunity in Employment, which Thurgood Marshal labeled the "bible" for civil rights lawyers. Twenty years later, she was the first African American to be awarded a Doctor of Juridical Science degree from Yale University Law School.

She was a trusted friend and advisor to Eleanor Roosevelt, although their relationship was often called "mercurial and contemptuous." The First Lady sought Pauli's wisdom and council on matters of racial and gender equality. In the 60's, she became a founding member of the National Organization of Women where she is fondly remembered as the one who bridged the gap between race, gender, culture and class with passion and dedication, but without bitterness or malice.

How I came to know about Pauli Murray was that I knew her to be one of the "infamous 11" women who were ordained on January 8, 1977 in Philadelphia. I was 15 years old at the time, a sophomore in high school who secretly dreamed of ordained ministry one day. What a cathartic event that was for me! I remember cutting out and saving the picture from an article from whatever magazine and seeing Pauli Murray's face among the women. Not only were there female priests, but there was one there who looked like me to boot. I carried that picture in my prayer book for many years. It served as a constant reminder to me that things were possible even when they didn't appear to be possible. Somewhere along the way, I lost that picture, but by that time, I no longer needed it because the image was indelibly seared into my brain. The spiritual fortitude and boldness of these women allowed a young teenaged girl to one day realize her own dream.

At 67 years of age, Pauli Murray became the first African-American woman ordained priest in the Episcopal Church. In her autobiography, Song In A Weary Throat: An American Pilgrimage, she wrote: "Several days before ordination, I was suddenly seized by an agony of indecision, as though I had been assaulted by an army of demons. The thought that the opponents of women's ordination might be right and that I might be participating in a monstrous wrong terrified me… I prayed fervently for some sign that I was doing God's will." As the story goes, during the ordination service, Pauli was the last one to be ordained. At the very moment when the bishop laid hands on her head, the sun broke through and streams of colored light shined down through the stained glass windows. The audience gasped, and later on, Pauli was told about the moment. She took it as a true sign of God's will. Her ordination to the priesthood was a powerful sanction of her identity in the oneness of God. One month after her ordination, Pauli had the opportunity to celebrate the Holy Eucharist in the Episcopal Chapel of the Cross in Chapel Hill, the same chapel where records show that on December 20, 1854, her grandmother, Cornelia Smith, a slave child of Mary Ruffin, was baptized. Pauli said of her experience at Chapel Hill that she finally believed that "all of the strands of my life had come together."

Pauli Murray worked incessantly to obliterate any barrier that kept us apart as people. She not only dreamed of a world and society where all of God's people could come together regardless of their differentness, she worked tirelessly to be a model of change. She did not waiver or falter in the face of her own oppression nor did she cower or run from the inevitable opposition from those who were staunchly against any type of change. Pauli knew, better than most, that any type of oppression is a sickness that is a sure killer of the spirit and mind. She knew that the only way to continue the liberation of the human spirit was to "soak ourselves in the waters of our baptism."

Pauli Murray died of pancreatic cancer in July, 1985. With all that she accomplished with her life, for the good works she manifested during our country's most difficult times, her fight for inclusion and connectedness continued and still continues after her death. She forced people to look at the entire picture of oppression. "Don't make me choose which issue to fight for," she once said, "I am as oppressed as a woman in a man's world as I am as a Negro in a White world." Some people – black and white, men and women – hated her for that. As Rev'd Elizabeth Kaeton said, "Why even in ECUSA (the Episcopal Church), it's 'easier' to remember Absalom Jones than Pauli Murray. And this has remained so. It has taken our Church nearly 20 some odd years to even consider Pauli important enough to be included in our Lesser Fasts and Feasts.

None of us will ever have to endure the obstacles that Pauli Murray had to in her life. And virtually none of us will have the opportunities to be leaders in so many different aspects of history as she had. However, all of us do have the opportunity to accept God's invitation to wade in the waters of His absolute love and truth and to set our hearts on fire in passionate service to Him.

Amen.

© 2008 The Rev. Deacon Christine McCloud