A Knock at Midnight

Midnight is a confusing hour when it is difficult to be faithful. The most inspiring word that the church must speak is that no midnight long remains. The weary traveller by midnight who asks for bread is really seeking the dawn. Our eternal message of hope is that dawn will come. Our slave foreparents realized this. They were never unmindful of the fact of midnight, for always there was the rawhide whip of the overseer and the auction block where families were torn asunder to remind them of its reality. When they thought of the agonizing darkness of midnight, they sang:

   Oh, nobody knows de trouble I’ve seen,
   Glory Hallelujah!
   Sometimes I’m up, sometimes I’m down,
   Oh, yes, Lord,
   Sometimes I’m almost to de groun’,
   Oh, yes, Lord,
   Oh, nobody knows de trouble I’ve seen,
   Glory Hallelujah!

Encompassed by a staggering midnight but believing that morning would come, they sang:

   I’m so glad trouble don’t last alway.
   O my Lord, O my Lord, what shall I do?

Their positive belief in the dawn was the growing edge of hope that kept the slaves faithful amid the most barren and tragic circumstances.

Faith in the dawn arises from the faith that God is good and just. When one believes this, he knows that the contradictions of life are neither final nor ultimate. He can walk through the dark night with the radiant conviction that all things work together for good for those that love God. Even the most starless midnight may herald the dawn of some great fulfillment.

This excerpt from Dr. King's great sermon "A Knock at Midnight" spoke to me this week, and helped me, here in my own particular midnight.




Honk to Grandmère Mimi at Wounded Bird.
Night street scene of Stanley, Virginia, by O. Winston Link, 1956.