In the year 1963. From chapter 4, King of Soul:
This Sunday morning, Aerlie and her friends visited the other church, the big one with the tall steeple and rich brick exterior in the middle of downtown Jackson.
People can maybe change their minds about a thing or two but there is a certain impediment amongst the monumental edifices of history; it gets built up as an obstruction to justice and mercy and thereby renders the processes of righteous change quite difficult.
Institutions crop up in society like trees, and once they get rooted in the wild and they grow up to be immovable trunks, these botanous growths can be quite a stupendous presence that hinders the seedlings down on the forest floor. Men cut them down in order to make best use, but in some cases institutions can be pruned instead of cut down and thereby by n by suit the purposes of men like for instance the ornamental trees in the town square, the magnolias, the azaleas, camellias. You can prune them and they’ll do better, produce more loverly flowers and generally garnish the surroundings with myriads of beauty and provide nesting opportunities for the bluebirds of happiness.
In the South, one institution that needed to be dealt with—and it was, so to speak, at the town square—was the Church, because down here in Dixie, it’s a big deal.
So this Sunday morning, just a few days after the killing of Medgar Evers, Aerlie Mufroe and her NAACP friends timidly traipsed up high stone steps and entered into the high holy place of the white folks’ worship.
What they found out was: Bad idea.
But wait a minute. As there’s a silver lining around a cloud every now and then, they discovered something special about the institution of Church in southern society, and as even a blind squirrel finds an acorn every now and then, so they were able to find one good nut amongst the hard-shelled congregants of First Baptist Church, and it happened this way:
This little old lady spoke to the usher. She said, “Please let them in, Mr. Calloway. We’ll sit with them.”
To which Mr. Calloway replied, “Mrs. Dixon, the church has decided what is to be done. A resolution has been passed, and we are to abide by it.”
The impediment was, as we were saying before, the institution thing. Sometimes they have to be pruned in order to thrive better. Toward that end, Mrs. Dixon replied to Mr. Calloway, “Who are we to decide such a thing? This is a house of God, and God is to make all of the decisions. He is the judge of us all.”
In other words, this wasn’t about what men think they have to do. This wasn’t about the committee’s resolution. This wasn’t about President Kennedy trying to convince Gov. Wallace of anything, or about Congress legislating some heavyhanded proclamations upon Ross Barnett, the Governor of Mississippi. It wasn’t about all that Federal Guvmint intrusion and contusion.
This is about God and men, and women too. Here were two intrepid Christian women whispering in the back of the church, one white and one black, and they were trying to convince poor Mr. Galloway to just let the tide of history come gushing through the main entrance of First Baptist, but he wasn’t going to do it because he was just, as Cousin Bob had sung, just a pawn in the game.
So Aerlie, even as determined as she was to make a dent in the way things were, surveyed the scene. She took stock of the situation, sized everything up, made a quick assessment of the situation, the plusses and the minuses, the risks and the benefits, and so she decided that this thing wasn’t going to happen without a big counter-productive blowup because Mr. Calloway and the other ushers threatened to call the police if Aerlie and her friends didn’t leave.
Even though they were Christians. On both sides they were.
“We appreciate very much what you’ve done,” said Aerlie to Mrs. Dixon, and the black folks walked away from the white church.
Not to be outdone, someone suggested they try another church. So they did. A few blocks away, they visited the Episcopalians.
Two ushers were standing in the back of the church when Aerlie and her friends entered. Uh-oh, here we go.
But lo and behold and I say unto thee, the usher looked at Aerlie and he asked, “May we help you?”
“Yes,” said the young college student. “We would like to worship with you today.”
““Will you sign the guest list, please, and we will show you to your seats.”
So they sat down; the church service went without a hitch. When it was over, the minister invited them to visit again.
That’s one small step for woman, one giant leap for man’s religion.
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