In March of 2013 a crew of sculptors will take hammers and chisels to the monument dedicated to Martin Luther King, Jr. in Washington, D.C. They will work to erase the words etched into the monument since its creation, and in doing so, will remind us all that a central tenant of leadership is humility. The controversial quote reads, “I WAS A DRUM MAJOR FOR JUSTIC, PEACE AND RIGHTEOUSNESS,” and was intended to capture the essence of words from a famous King sermon in which he declared, "Yes, if you want to say that I was a drum major, say that I was a drum major for justice. Say that I was a drum major for peace. I was a drum major for righteousness. And all of the other shallow things will not matter." The sermon, entitled “Drum Major Instincts,” was an adaption of a similar sermon delivered by a white Methodist preacher named J. Wallace Hamilton 1952. Both Hamilton and King were emphasizing the need for leaders to guard their hearts from the temptation to step out in front and lead the parade - the temptation to be the drum major. When the revised quote showed up on the memorial in Washington Maya Angelou said it made King sound like “an arrogant twit.” Choruses of similar criticisms were unleashed until a decision was made to remove the quote entirely, and with it, an attempt to ensure that Martin’s legacy as a selfless leader continues.
Anyone who has ever served under a “Drum Major” will immediately understand why this decision is so important, and for those of us who struggle every day to fight the temptation “to lead the parade,” the removal of the misquote should cause us to stop for a moment of reflection on the condition of our own hearts, and the direction of our legacy. Perhaps most importantly of all, it should cause every one of us to consider once again the great cosmic scandal of the God-man who chose to enter creation by way of an unwed, teenage mother and her blue-collar boyfriend. We are skeptical of those who seek their own fame, and despite his right to move heaven and earth to announce his visit Jesus comes to us in the most vulnerable form one could imagine, through the least likely parents, in a strangers barn among a foreign land, in order to be murdered by the Roman and Jewish “drum majors” who he forgives with his last breath.
We long to follow men and women who ensure us by their life and deeds that sacrifice and selflessness are their modus operandi. We recognize Martin Luther King, Jr. as such a leader and bristle at the thought of tainting this image with quasi-cocky sentiments etched into his legacy. But we would do well to remember that while Martin Luther King, Jr. disregarded the claims of others that he was a drum major himself, the efficacy of his story should lead us all back to the fact that he was a man who was passionately pursuing the true Drum Major in a parade that we are all invited to march in.
