To Take Back Our Land Again ©
Reverend Janet Parsons
Gloucester UU Church
January 18, 2026
As I was writing this sermon yesterday, I heard that there was a large-scale protest taking place in Minneapolis, the city most recently targeted for authoritarian control of citizens and residents here in the land of the free.
It seems that a conservative influencer named Jake Lang, who served four years in prison for his actions in the January 6 riot, organized a rally at Minneapolis’ City Hall, where he announced he was going to burn a copy of the Quran and lead a march through a Somali immigrant neighborhood. He was met with a much larger crowd of protesters drowning him out by chanting “No one is illegal!” Eventually, they chased him into a nearby hotel by throwing water balloons at him in 10 degree weather, and blasting the soundtrack from Disney’s Frozen. He’s apparently from Florida, by the way.
Water balloons and Disney tunes. Add those to the Native American dances, as well as the inflatable costumes in Portland and the videos of brass bands creating dance parties at protests in Arizona, and you do get a sense that the American spirit might be dusting itself off and rising up once again.
We often ask ourselves if the United States is ever going to live up to any of its aspirations: of equality for all, of the words of the poem inscribed on the Statue of Liberty: “Give me your tired, your poor…”, and of the closing words of our national anthem, which names us as “The land of the free, and the home of the brave.”
Today, here on Martin Luther King weekend, we should be taking an honest look at ourselves, and asking ourselves if we are truly that: free and brave.
“O, let America be America again—
The land that never has been yet—
And yet must be—the land where every man is free…” (Langston Hughes, Let America Be America Again)
Those two words are interesting together: free, and brave. Freedom, and courage. Because it’s clear, once you think about it, that we simply cannot have one without the other. We cannot sustain our freedom without the courage to stand up for it. And we cannot maintain our courage without the freedom to gather, to speak, to act, to protest.
Over the past few years it has been painful to watch as people and institutions with power have exhibited a stunning lack of courage to defend themselves, and all of us, and to maintain their basic integrity. Politicians who vowed never to support the current president, until they did. Who decided to look the other way after a violent insurrection, even claiming it was just a bunch of tourists visiting the Capitol. Universities who decided to protect their assets and so gave in to demands to give up some of their autonomy. The Supreme Court. And just this week, the recipient of this year’s Nobel Peace Prize gifted her medal to the American president, thereby cheapening this almost sacred award for all time. Over and over, I have thought, “Just say No! Just stand your ground, and then others will join you and we can get through this.” But it seems that no one wanted to be the first one, and one after the other, they took the path of least resistance. Few have displayed any courage of their convictions.
Our theme this month is Resistance. We have looked back at history and told some wonderful stories, from the Three Wise Men resisting King Herod to the mill workers going on strike in Lawrence MA back in 1912. And as this month has gone on, we have watched as the situation in Minneapolis has worsened. We have watched the US government invade Venezuela. We are watching as the president threatens to take over Greenland. The times feel perilous, and we have every right to be afraid every morning when we check the news. And so, the question for us today, here on Martin Luther King Weekend, is, how do we resist fear?
Now, fear is actually a healthy, reasonable response to dangerous circumstances. We are hard wired to feel fear, as a warning system to us that we are encountering a threatening situation. I have lived a fortunate, sheltered life, but I know how sudden fear feels in my body: the turning over of my stomach. And I know to heed that sensation, not to try to ignore it, but to figure out the proper response.
Having courage does not mean feeling no fear. Courage is finding a way to take action in spite of the fear.
This weekend we honor the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King. Typically we share some of his eloquence. We salute his commitment to non-violent resistance and this year especially we applaud the lack of violence so far in cities targeted by paramilitary forces. Each year we take a look back, to try to learn what from the past can help to guide us today.
One story about Dr. King has been resonant for me in recent days, as I wonder how he carried on through so much hatred. When the Montgomery bus boycott began, King, the new young African-American minister in town, was recruited to lead it. People thought it would last for just a few days. But the days turned into weeks, and now it was January of 1956. King was 27 years old. As we know, the bus boycott lasted for over a year, and placed unimaginable stress on the young man, a new father, who was suddenly barraged with death threats.
One night, King gave up trying to sleep. I decided to read you this account of what happened that night in King’s own words, as recounted in his first book, Stride Toward Freedom. “I got out of bed and began to walk the floor. Finally I went to the kitchen and heated a pot of coffee. I was ready to give up. With my cup of coffee sitting untouched before me I tried to think of a way to move out of the picture without appearing a coward. In this state of exhaustion, when my courage had all but gone, I decided to take my problem to God. With my head in my hands, I bowed over the kitchen table and prayed aloud. The words I spoke to God that midnight are still vivid in my memory. ‘I am here taking a stand for what I believe is right. But now I am afraid. The people are looking to me for leadership, and if I stand before them without strength and courage, they, too will falter. I am at the end of my powers. I have nothing left. I’ve come to the point where I can’t face it alone.’
At that moment I experienced the presence of the Divine as I had never experienced Him before. It seemed as though I could hear the quiet assurance of an inner voice saying: ‘Stand up for righteousness, stand up for truth; and God will be at your side forever.’ Almost at once my fears began to go. My uncertainty disappeared. I was ready to face anything.” (Martin Luther King Jr., Stride Toward Freedom, 1958.)
It was a fortunate moment for King, pausing to ask for help, and in response hearing what he understood as the voice of God. For just three days later, local racists threw a bomb at his house. King’s wife Coretta and their baby were there with a friend; he was out at yet another community meeting. Fortunately, no one was injured. As word spread, a large mob showed up to surround the house and protect the family.
Perhaps the important message of this story is that Martin Luther King reached a place of such fear and vulnerability that he let his guard down, and prayed for help. And help came, first, in a clearly heard, disembodied message, and days later, from the outpouring of support from the African-American community in response to the bombing.
The King’s courage – Martin’s and Coretta’s – takes my breath away. Both their families tried to insist that they leave Montgomery. They refused. They had great courage, yes, but their courage came from both within themselves, and from outside; from their faith and from all the people around them. They were not alone.
All through this year, as we began to mobilize, to take to the streets with our funny signs and hats and chants, we have seen over and over that we gain strength and courage from one another. We have seen it for ourselves here on Cape Ann, and we witness it as we watch the actions of the residents of other cities. We see the courage of showing up: holding signs, honking horns, helping threatened neighbors get groceries, or taking their children to school. It takes courage to step forward, but we gain more courage as we absorb the courage of all those standing with us. Action by action, day by day, we can take back our land again.
We need one another to keep our democracy. We need community, shared experiences, shared history and values. We need to show up for one another, to face down masked thugs in our neighborhoods, to blow whistles and honk horns to alert neighbors, and to try to do what we can to lighten burdens when they become too much to carry. Strength in numbers, we like to say, but the strength is also in the common purpose.
America’s strength, and freedom, and courage, lies in our communities; our neighborhoods, our religious institutions, our schools, anywhere that we come together to share our endeavor and our heritage.
The words of one of our responsive readings came into my mind – the words of George Odell:
“…We need one another when we are in trouble and afraid.
We need one another when we are in despair, in temptation, and need to be recalled to our best selves again.
We need one another when we would accomplish some great purpose, and cannot do it alone…
All our lives we are in need, and others are in need of us.” (Singing the Living Tradition, #468, We Need One Another.)
Have courage, my friends. Borrow some from each other, and pass it along, and take back our land again.
