I Cannot Hate Any Man

As a young man, Martin Luther King, Sr., hated every White man he knew and the unfair system that White men had devised to keep the Black man down. His hatred consumed him. Yet on his mother’s dying bed he promised her that he would not hate anymore, even though he didn’t know how he could keep that promise. “Hatred,” she told him, “makes nothing but more hatred, Michael. Don’t you do it.”[1]

This man of God stood firm in his faith and in his promise to his mother, embodying the very essence of Christian forgiveness that would inspire a nation.

While the world knows his famous son, few understand the profound faith journey of Martin Luther King, Sr., including the puzzling contradictions that would make him both a champion of brotherhood and a man initially opposed to a Catholic president—contradictions that reveal the complex intersection of faith, politics, and pragmatism in twentieth-century America.

From Michael to Martin: A Name That Changed History

Born Michael King on December 19, 1899, in the small farming community of Stockbridge, Georgia, United States, he was raised in poverty by James Albert King and Delia Linsey King. The segregated South showed no mercy to young Michael, who witnessed the lynching of a Black man and once had to physically restrain his drunken father from beating his mother. Yet even as a child he found solace in Floyd Chapel Baptist Church, where his mother took her children regularly to know the Bible and the God of the Bible.

At 18 Michael left the farm and walked to Atlanta, driven by an unshakable conviction that God had called him to ministry. Living with few possessions but rich in determination, he worked as a mechanic’s helper and railroad firefighter while pursuing his education. When he registered at Bryant School in Atlanta, he started at the fifth grade, which he had to repeat two or three times. English grammar was his greatest challenge. He later was admitted to Morehouse College and failed English three times. He was introduced to a group of young men who encouraged him not to quit and shared with him an awe of city life, cars, the mysteries of college scholarship, and, most of all, of their callings to the ministry.

In 1919 Michael met Alberta Williams, daughter of Rev. A. D. Williams, pastor of Ebenezer Baptist Church. After an eight-year courtship marked by her family’s encouragement for him to complete his education, they married on Thanksgiving Day 1926. Their union would produce three children: Willie Christine in 1927, Michael, Jr., in 1929, and Alfred Daniel in 1930.

The pivotal moment came in 1934 when Rev. King traveled to Berlin for the Baptist World Alliance. He recalled, “In Jerusalem, when I saw with my own eyes the places where Jesus had lived and taught, a life spent in the ministry seemed to me even more compelling.”[2] But it was his visits to sites associated with Protestant Reformer Martin Luther that profoundly impacted him.

Deeply moved by Luther’s courage in challenging religious corruption and standing for biblical truth, Michael King changed his name to Martin Luther King—and his eldest son became Martin Luther King, Jr. As he witnessed the rise of Nazism and anti-Semitism during that trip, King must have understood that standing up for civil rights in America would become even more crucial.

This wasn’t merely about adopting a famous name—it represented a spiritual transformation. Like the sixteenth-century Reformer who declared, “Here I stand. I cannot do otherwise,”[3] King, Sr., would spend his life standing for righteousness, even when it brought danger to his family.

The Brotherhood Paradox: Faith, Freemasonry, and Religious Prejudice

Yet Martin Luther King, Sr.’s commitment to righteousness contained puzzling contradictions that reveal the complex religious landscape of his era. Despite his advocacy for justice and equality, King, Sr., was a member of the Prince Hall Masonic Lodge—the historically Black branch of Freemasonry that emphasized brotherhood across racial and religious lines. His membership in the 23rd Lodge in Atlanta connected him to a fraternal tradition that included his father-in-law, Rev. A. D. Williams, and would later influence his son’s civil rights work through the movement’s headquarters being located inside the Most Worshipful Prince Hall Grand Lodge of Georgia on Auburn Avenue.

King, Sr., demonstrated the transformative power of Christian love—a love so radical it could forgive even the men who had destroyed his family.

While Freemasonry officially promoted brotherhood among men who believed in a Supreme Being, the reality was more complex—particularly in the segregated South, where Prince Hall Masonry existed separately from White Masonic lodges. Many of King, Jr.’s closest associates—Andrew Young, Julian Bond, Hosea Williams, and John Lewis—were all Freemasons, suggesting the fraternal network played a significant but largely hidden role in organizing the civil rights movement.[4]

This makes King, Sr.’s stance during the 1960 presidential election all the more intriguing. Despite his Masonic oath of tolerance and brotherhood, King, Sr., initially opposed John F. Kennedy’s presidential candidacy solely because Kennedy was Catholic. As a lifelong Republican who had endorsed Richard Nixon, King, Sr., embodied the deep Protestant suspicions of Catholicism that pervaded much of the American South, where many feared that a Catholic president would give undue influence to the pope in national affairs.

A Ministry Built on Social Gospel

King, Sr., wasn’t afraid to take bold stands against the oppressive Jim Crow system that governed every aspect of Black life in Georgia. These laws mandated separate schools, restaurants, hotels, theaters, and even cemeteries, while denying Black citizens basic voting rights and equal treatment under law. In 1939 he organized a massive voter registration drive, declaring at a rally of more than 1,000 activists, “I ain’t gonna plow no more mules. I’ll never step off the road again to let White folks pass.”[5] As chair of the Committee on the Equalization of Teachers’ Salaries, he braved racist threats to fight discriminatory pay policies, achieving significant gains for Black teachers. His efforts helped lay the groundwork for what would eventually become his son’s philosophy of nonviolent resistance, inspired by the teachings of Mahatma Gandhi.

His courage left an indelible mark on his children. Martin Luther King, Jr., later remembered witnessing his father stand up to a police officer who called him “boy”: “This is a boy,” his father said, pointing to young Martin. “I’m a man, and until you call me one, I will not listen to you.”[6] The shocked policeman nervously issued the ticket and left immediately. These early lessons in dignity and resistance would later merge with the nonviolent philosophy of Mahatma Gandhi to shape the civil rights movement that changed America.

The Great Controversy: When Faith Meets Politics

The most fascinating chapter in King, Sr.’s life unfolded during the crucial weeks before the 1960 presidential election, revealing how personal crisis can reshape deeply held convictions. On October 19, 1960, Martin Luther King, Jr., was arrested during a sit-in at Rich’s department store in Atlanta. What followed was a dramatic intersection of faith, politics, and family loyalty that would help determine the course of American history.

When King Jr. was sentenced to four months of hard labor and transferred to a maximum-security prison, the Kennedy campaign faced a delicate political calculation. Many advisors warned against intervening, fearing it would cost Kennedy crucial Southern White votes. But Senator John F. Kennedy personally called Coretta Scott King to express his concern, while his brother Robert F. Kennedy contacted the judge to secure King, Jr.’s release.[7]

The intervention worked, but it created a moral crisis for King, Sr. Here was a man who had spent decades fighting for justice and equality, who belonged to a fraternal organization that preached universal brotherhood, yet who had declared his intention to vote against Kennedy because of his Protestant convictions and knowledge of the history of papal political manipulation. When faced with Kennedy’s choice to help his son, King, Sr., made a stunning public declaration: “Yes, if I had a suitcase full of votes, I’d hand them over to John Kennedy, hoping he could use them in the upcoming election.”[8]

This dramatic reversal raises profound questions that echo through American history: How do personal loyalties intersect with religious convictions? Can political pragmatism coexist with moral principles? King, Sr.’s decision to abandon his lifelong Republican allegiance and his anti-Catholic stance in favor of a man who had been there for him in a personal time of need suggests that authentic faith sometimes requires us to make difficult choices.

The Kennedy brothers’ intervention proved decisive in one of the closest elections in American history. Kennedy won by just 118,550 votes nationwide, but carried such crucial states as Illinois, Michigan, and South Carolina largely because of the overwhelming Black support that King, Sr.’s endorsement helped secure.[9] The civil rights movement had found its political ally, but at the cost of exposing the religious contradictions that even its leaders carried.

This episode reveals something deeper about the nature of religious liberty in America—what Ellen G. White described in The Great Controversy as the ongoing tension between liberty of conscience and religious prejudice. She warned, “When the leading churches of the United States, uniting upon such points of doctrine as are held by them in common, shall influence the State to enforce their decrees and to sustain their institutions, then Protestant America will have formed an image of the Roman hierarchy.”[10] King, Sr.’s initial opposition to Kennedy’s Catholicism reflected these very fears that had long pervaded Protestant America.

Faith Tested by Fire

King, Jr., credited his father with influencing his decision to join the ministry. The son said that his father had set a noble example that he didn’t mind following. As his son rose to national prominence during the Montgomery bus boycott, King, Sr., worried about the family’s safety but admired his son’s determination.

His life reminds us that true freedom isn’t just political or social—it’s the spiritual liberty that comes from knowing that neither death nor life, neither tragedy nor triumph, neither our prejudices nor our failures, can separate us from the love of God.

In 1964 King, Sr., traveled with a delegation to Oslo to see his son accept the Nobel Peace Prize. Tears streamed down King, Sr.’s face, as he realized how much had happened since he had faced so many racial obstacles in his tiny Georgia hometown. His heart overflowed with gratitude.

But joy would soon turn to unimaginable sorrow. On April 4, 1968, Martin Luther King, Jr., was assassinated in Memphis. The grieving father had little time to process this loss before tragedy struck again.

Three Tragedies, One Unshakable Faith

On July 21, 1969, a litter more than a year after King, Jr.’s assassination, King Sr.’s youngest son, Alfred Daniel, was found dead in his swimming pool. Alfred’s daughter Alveda later said that she felt her father was killed and put in the pool. When they pulled the body out, they began to pump his chest, but no water came out. He was dead when he hit the water. Though his death was ruled an accidental drowning, family members suspected foul play, knowing Alfred was an excellent swimmer.[11]

The third and most shocking tragedy came on June 30, 1974. Alberta King was playing “The Lord’s Prayer” on the organ at Ebenezer Baptist Church when 23-year-old Marcus Wayne Chenault, Jr., a Black man from Ohio, stood up, shouted, “You are serving a false god,” and opened fire. Alberta, church deacon Edward Boykin, and congregation member Jimmie Mitchell were shot. Chenault later revealed that his intended target had been Martin Luther King, Sr., but when he couldn’t find him, he shot Alberta instead.[12]

As King, Sr., sat in the front row at his wife’s funeral, having lost two sons and now his beloved Alberta, he declared, “I refused to be bitter, and I refused to question God.”[13] King, Sr., demonstrated the transformative power of Christian love—a love so radical it could forgive even the men who had destroyed his family. “There are two men I am supposed to hate. One is a White man, the other is Black, and both are serving time for having committed murder. James Earl Ray is a prisoner in Tennessee, charged with killing my son. Marcus Chenault was institutionalized as deranged after shooting my wife to death. I don’t hate either one. There is no time for that, and no reason, either. Nothing that a man does takes him lower than when he allows himself to fall so far as to hate anyone.”[14]

A Legacy of Unshakable Faith

What are we to make of Martin Luther King, Sr.—a man who would embrace Freemasonry and initially reject a presidential candidate because of his faith? A man who could fight tirelessly for civil rights while acquiescing to religious political pressures? A man who could forgive his family’s killers while struggling with his own contradictions?

Perhaps King, Sr.’s greatest legacy lies not in his perfection, but in his capacity for growth. He demonstrated that love truly can triumph over hate—even the hate we discover within ourselves.

King, Sr.’s response to these tragedies wasn’t passive resignation—it was active faith. After his son’s assassination he spoke at numerous events honoring Martin Luther King, Jr.’s memory. He served on the boards of Atlanta University, Morehouse College, and the National Baptist Convention. As a strong supporter of President Jimmy Carter, he delivered invocations at the Democratic National Convention in 1976 and 1980.

The King family’s opposition to the death penalty led to Chenault’s sentence being commuted from death to life imprisonment.[15] Even toward their mother’s killer, they chose mercy over vengeance, embodying the very love that had sustained them through their darkest hours.

King, Sr., died of a heart attack on November 11, 1984, at age 84, and was buried beside Alberta in South-View Cemetery. His legacy extends far beyond his famous son—it stands as a testament to faith’s power to transform suffering into strength, prejudice into understanding, hatred into love.

Lessons for Today

Faith anchors us in storms. When circumstances would have justified bitterness, King, Sr., chose forgiveness. His unwavering trust in God’s sovereignty carried him through losses that would have broken lesser men.

God uses ordinary people for extraordinary purposes. From a poor sharecropper’s son came a minister who shaped American history through his children and his own courageous stands for justice.

Growth is possible. King, Sr.’s journey from religious ignorance to political influence shows that authentic faith demands that we confront our own biases and choose love over fear.

Love truly is stronger than hate. In a culture increasingly divided by anger and resentment, hate speech and fake news, King, Sr.’s example shows that Christian love—the love that forgives the unforgivable and transcends the prejudices that divide us—remains our most powerful weapon against evil.

Character is revealed in crisis. Anyone can maintain faith when life is easy. King, Sr.’s true character emerged in his darkest moments, when he chose to trust God rather than succumb to despair. Yet even when victory comes in one area, we must guard against the wiles of those who would seek to use our influence for their own agenda.

As we face our own national divisions and personal trials, we need the witness of Martin Luther King, Sr.—a man who discovered that when everything earthly is stripped away, faith in Jesus Christ remains. His life reminds us that true freedom isn’t just political or social—it’s the spiritual liberty that comes from knowing that neither death nor life, neither tragedy nor triumph, neither our prejudices nor our failures, can separate us from the love of God.

In choosing forgiveness over hatred, growth over stagnation, hope over despair, King, Sr., demonstrated that the same faith that sustained him through unimaginable loss can sustain us through whatever trials we face. His legacy challenges us to live with such radical faith that our response to life’s worst moments—and our willingness to confront our own contradictions—becomes our strongest testimony to God’s transforming love.

[1] Martin Luther King, Sr., with Clayton Riley, Daddy King: An Autobiography (Chapel Hill, N.C.: University of North Carolina Press, 2017), p. 66.

[2] Ibid., p. 88.

[3] Attributed to Martin Luther at the Diet of Worms, Apr. 18, 1521.

[4] Clare S. Richie, “MLK’s Connection to Atlanta’s Freemasons,” Atlanta History Center, Jan. 13, 2020, https://www.atlantahistorycenter.com/blog/mlks-connection-to-atlantas-freemasons/.

[5] King, Sr., p. 91.

[6] Marshall Frady, Martin Luther King Jr.: A Life (New York: Penguin Books, 2002), p. 15.

[7] Lily Rothman, “The Phone Call That History Forgot: How JFK Helped MLK Get Out of Jail,” Time, May 26, 2017, https://time.com/4817240/martin-luther-king-john-kennedy-phone-call/.

[8] King, Sr., pp. 158, 159.

[9] Rothman.

[10] Ellen G. White, The Great Controversy (Mountain View, Calif.: Pacific Press Pub. Assn., 1911), p. 445.

[11] King, Sr., p. 175.

[12] “Chenault Israel,” Decatur Daily Review (Decatur, Illinois), Oct. 18, 1974, https://www.newspapers.com/article/the-decatur-daily-review-chenault-israel/24581284/.

[13] King, Sr., p. 176.

[14] Ibid., p. 191.

[15] Doug Monroe, “The Murder of Alberta King,” Atlanta Magazine, June 2014, https://www.atlantamagazine.com/civilrights/the-murder-of-alberta-king/.