What Shall I Do? | September 21, 2025 | Rev. Dr. Kathryn Benton

The Door of No Return

 Renamed: The Door of Return in Ghana

 This has been a week…a month…a year. A year of pain and horror…of disbelief and despair. It was described by a member at the recent Zoom gathering as the point of no return. The same person asked, What Shall I Do? This was a reference to the song of the same name that begins:

Hush, hush, somebody’s calling my name

Hush, hush, somebody’s calling my name

Oh, my Lord, oh my Lord what shall I do?

I do not profess to know the answer to this question, yet as all of us here, I do have to arise each morning to this question.

The song continues:

I’m so glad trouble don’t last always

I’m so glad trouble don’t last always

Oh, my Lord, oh my Lord what shall I do?

So, it seems that the writer of this spiritual still did not profess to know the answer to this question, but they were asking…just as the church member was asking. Even though they said with some certainty, trouble don’t last always, the writers/singers of this song were not so certain about what to do or what, if any, outcome would arise. There was an underlying belief in freedom…in the end of trouble. This song in particular, like so many spirituals, was also a ‘coded’ song that was meant to communicate ways to stay strong, but also ways to facilitate escape from enslavement. Hush, hush…I need to hear the one calling my name…calling me to freedom.

The words from the church member resonated in my soul, and I suspect the souls of many of us. With each news report, the situation becomes more and more dire…more and more painful. But this is not limited to news reports. If we are aware…if we hush long enough to notice, there are incidents all around us that hurt…that create a feeling of the door of no return…a feeling that is familiar, especially to marginalized people…people of color and even those of us that are allies…those of us who have decided to try to understand…to try to understand our own privilege and how it has contributed or even caused this pain. It is happening in plain sight. I’ll share an example of what I mean. Last week I went to the local park with my grandson, Freddy. As we were approaching the park I heard a loud speaker and wondered what was going on. When we got there, I saw a group of people gathered with some signs and candles. I realized that it was a ‘vigil’ for the death of Charlie Kirk. There were people with signs bearing the American flag, as well as the statement: I am Charlie Kirk. Reading this I was internally shouting, Now you’ve gone too far!!! I was immediately repulsed by the gathering, which included several pastors from local churches. The words of Ella Baker were echoing in my soul…

We who believe in freedom cannot rest

We who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes

Until the killing of black men, black mothers' sons

Is as important as the killing of white men, white mothers' sons

To be clear, I did not join the gathering. I was going to the playground, so I gave the group a wide berth and followed Freddy to the slide. I couldn’t shake my feeling of disgust, but I focused on the children and took a deep breath to calm my nervous system. It was then that I looked around. I noticed that all the people on the playground were people of color. And the group at the vigil was, without exception white. Now, I didn’t interview any of the people at either the vigil or the ones on the playground, but the feelings I was experiencing were profound. I realized that I felt at home on the playground and did not trust those at the vigil. It wasn’t until I was walking by the group again on my way home that I realized that there could be an answer to What shall I do? Was there something I could do? As a minister and a white person, it is my responsibility to address this, but I used the excuse of being with my grandson to continue walking past. Of course, I also didn’t clearly know what I would share with the group or if I would even be heard. But this was a moment that shook me to my core. I found myself telling others about it and find myself relating it here. On some level, I knew that as Ella Baker said, I cannot rest. Sweet Honey in the Rock continues with Ella’s Song:

The older I get the better I know that the secret of my going on

Is when the reins are in the hands of the young, who dare to run against the storm

Not needing to clutch for power

Not needing the light just to shine on me

I need to be one in the number as we stand against tyranny

Struggling myself don't mean a whole lot, I've come to realize

That teaching others to stand up and fight is the only way my struggle survives

I'm a woman who speaks in a voice and I must be heard

At times I can be quite difficult, I'll bow to no man's word

We who believe in freedom cannot rest

We who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes

Has Ella given us a blueprint of what we need to do? She says that it is about us having the courage to be in the struggle together and it is about teaching others, especially the young people. She says that’s the only way the struggle survives. She acknowledges that it is not easy…at times it can be quite difficult, but that we must be heard…indeed we cannot rest until freedom comes.

This is the hope…the hope that we will be able to hear our name being called through the din of atrocities and outrage…through the pain and despair…that we will be able to gather the strength and stamina to respond. I understand the belief that we are heading to the door of no return. More evidence came later in the week when I was meeting with a client of mine…this is often the place I find out about what is going on in the world, since I am not connected to social media or really to any media. She asked me if I had heard…heard what I asked, in a way, not really wanting to know. She said, did you hear about the two people found hanging from trees in Mississippi? I said, you mean there were lynchings? She said yes, exactly.

Now, I don’t want to end on this note, but I couldn’t help bringing it up. Whether it was an actual lynching, a suicide or something else is not what I’m here to argue or decide. But it remains my responsibility to listen to the one calling my name…calling all of our names. And that voice is the same one that guided and inspired Ella Baker…the same one that breathed life into each one of us…the one that causes the plants and animals to live…to grow…to flourish amid this mess. It is the voice of our Creator…the all-pervading presence. We are in this together here at Fellowship Church. Our name as a Beloved Community is being called…it is being called to stand against tyranny…to struggle, however that may look for each of us. Talking with a Board of Trustees member yesterday, I was encouraged. The person said, I hope for a better day. We will collectively hope for a better day…knowing that indeed trouble don’t last always. May we transform our pain…our struggle with the help of these words from Dr. Howard Thurman…

All around us worlds are dying and new worlds are being born; all around us life is dying and life is being born. The fruit ripens on the tree, the roots are silently at work in the darkness of the earth against a time when there shall be new lives, fresh blossoms, green fruit. Such is the growing edge! It is the extra breath from the exhausted lung, the one more thing to try when all else has failed, the upward reach of life when weariness closes in upon all endeavor. This is the basis of hope in moments of despair, the incentive to carry on when times are out of joint and men have lost their reason, the source of confidence when worlds crash and dreams whiten into ash. The birth of a child — life’s most dramatic answer to death — this is the growing edge incarnate. Look well to the growing edge!

May we look to this growing edge and to the sentiments of that board member. May we listen carefully to the voice of the genuine within and without…and may we hear our names, including the name of The Church for the Fellowship of All Peoples. We may not initially know exactly what to do, but we can continue to ask…What Shall I Do? And if we listen carefully, we may live our way into some answers.