# LCMS Convention Proceedings_St. Louis Missouri_1977_S135
# Machine transcription, uncorrected — CHI Digital Archive (demonstration)

BLACK CENTENNIAL SERMON 101

As I stand here tonight reflecting over the hundred
years of Black Lutheran ministry, I am acutely aware
that I am the first Black pastor, or pastor involved in
Black Lutheran ministry, to have the privilege to
preach toa Missouri Synod in convention. In this role I
feel that I speak for the many veterans of this crucial
and difficult ministry who tried seemingly in vain to
alert the church to the potential and difficulties of this
ministry. I hope and pray that, with God’s help, I can
get their message over to the Synod.

J know that they are among the cloud of witnesses
watching us tonight. I think of Dr. N. J. Bakke, the
guiding spirit behind the first fifty years. His entire
ministry was devoted to this work. He tried in vain to tell
the church how best to do this ministry. I think of F. J.
Lankenau, the inspired and visionary president of
Luther College, New Orleans, who saw his dream
deferred because of lack of funds. I think of Dr. Henry
Nau, for twenty-five years president of the college and
seminary in Greensboro, N.C., and one of the most
knowledgeable and competent missionaries of his day.
He tried to lay out a strategy for foreign missions which
would be effective, but he was a man whose ideas were
at least twenty years ahead of his time.

I think tonight in reflection of Dean Robert Otho
Lynn, whose heroic stand against despotism in the
church was never appreciated in his day; Dr. M. N.
Carter of Chicago, who became quite disillusioned with
our Lutheran church in his last days because of the
apparent refusal of many of our white Lutherans to
evangelize the Blacks moving into the changing
communities; of my sainted brother, Moses S. Dickin-
son, who was next in line for the vice-presidency of the
Synod—a heartbeart away—but whose heart failed him
in death before he could attain unto the position. I hope
and fervently pray that I sound their message clear
because I feel that I speak for them tonight and that
their message has been muted for so long.

Reflecting upon Black Lutheran ministry from the
perspective of the book Roses and Thorns, the conven-
tion drama, and the testimony of many of the veterans
of this special ministry, one must conclude that,
although we celebrate

One hundred years of Word and sacrament,

Bringing God’s love to people who repent,
And strength and peace and joy to heart’s content,

the words of the Black National Anthem aptly describe
this ministry where they read:

We have come over a way that with tears has been watered.
We have come treading our path through the blood
of the slaughtered.

It would perhaps be too optimistic to conclude that
stanza by saying, “Out from the gloomy past, till now
we stand at last Where the white gleam of our bright
Star is cast.”

As I stand here tonight and reflect upon the
character and commitment of Black people all across
this land, the Black people towards whom this ministry
has been directed for the past one hundred years, I am
so proud to be a Black Lutheran American. Discrimina-
tion has plagued us all the way, but I say in the words

of Paul Lawrence Dunbar’s poem, “The Ode to
Ethiopia”:

O mother race, to thee I bring

This pledge of faith unwavering,

This tribute to thy glory.

I know the pangs which thou didst feel

When slavery crushed thee with its heel,

With thy dear blood all gory.

Sad days were those, ah, sad indeed,

As Dunbar is concluding this poetic masterpiece, he
pens the words I love. I want you to check out the
validity of his assertion where he says:

No other race, or white or black,

When bound, as thou wert to the rack,

So seldom stooped to grieving.

No other race, when free again,

Forgot the past, and proved them men

So noble in forgiving.

That is why I am so proud to be a Black Lutheran
tonight, for it is in this segment of the church’s
ministry all races and nationalities, cultures and
conditions of God’s people are accepted, respected, and
served, accepted into our churches, our pulpits, our
schools, and our homes. I pray God that it will ever be
so.

We could ramble in this glorious past all evening
and enjoy every minute of it, but the sentence “We have
come” is very delusive. It seems to denote a task
completed. It reminds me of the words of Henry van
Dyke in his poem “America for Me,” where he says:

I know that Europe’s wonderful,
Yet something seems to lack.

The past is too much with her
And the people looking back.

Of America he said:

The glory of the present

Is to make the future free.

We love our land for what she is
And what she is to be.

It is truly a blessing from God to be able to sit and to
reflect, to close out everything else and in our minds be
able to relive many of the thrilling moments of our past
and, vicariously, other thrilling or chilling moments of
our past, but there comes a time when one must say
with the apostle: “Forgetting those things which are
behind, and looking forward to those things which are
before, I press towards the mark for the prize of the
high calling of God in Christ Jesus.”

Thanks be to God for the ability to forget many
things of our past. Sometimes remembering them can
make us bitter and remorseful or proud and overconfi-
dent. I know that there are many under the sound of my
voice tonight whose homes are unhappy and whose
lives are miserable because they cannot or refuse to
forget incidents that happened between them and
friends years ago. It drives many into serious depres-
sion. This is why psychotherapists utilize shock
treatments to break up the memory patterns, and the
patient becomes happy when he no longer remembers
the event and incidents which made him unhappy.

We have paused and reflected. It is our hope that the
pause has been or will be one that refreshes, that will
enable us to extract courage from despair and hope in