Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. was assassinated on April 4, 1968, my tenth birthday. I remember all the adults in my life wept for days. It was a cataclysmic tragedy that would be repeated two months later when Robert F. Kennedy met with the same fate.

The hatred that attended Dr King’s murder was raw and intense, a violent sickness that filled the hearts of far too many who believed that in order for them to “win” someone had to lose. Someone had to be dehumanized, brutalized and silenced. That very hatred motivated many more to fight against its evil sway. The racial strife seemed hellish at the time. Sadly, this hatred and bigotry would only thrive and grow stronger, more confident and brazenly vicious with the passage of time. Hatred is alive and well at this hour.

The only solution is for us to love. May the God of justice and mercy draw us all into the Spirit’s tether. May love thrive, and one day emerge strong and peacefully victorious, as from a borrowed tomb.

This is our only hope.