“Like anybody, I would like to live a long life. Longevity has its place. But I’m not concerned about that now. I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the Promised Land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land!”

                                                                        Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., April 3, 1968

When Dr. King delivered his “Mountain Top Speech”, the audience responded with excitement and shock.  For many in attendance, it was clear that Dr. King was prophesying his own death, and sadly, he was assassinated the next day. But what else was Dr. King saying to his audience on April 3, 1968?  What meaning does this hold for Black people in 2025 and beyond?  This essay will examine this excerpt, its history, and its broader implications.  This author submits that we have been on the mountaintop too long, and it is time to come down. 

I am sure that many of you reading this are aware that the “mountain top” harkens back to the biblical story of Exodus and the biblical Hebrews escaping from bondage in biblical Egypt.  After all that they witnessed and endured at the hands of their captors, they had finally escaped, but would soon discover they were not free.  While traveling from Egypt to the promised land of Canaan, Moses left them for a while to speak with God.  During this relatively brief time, the Hebrews lost their faith, logic, and focus.  They returned to the mental state of their enslavement and began to symbolically and practically refasten their shackles.  They began to return to the spiritual practices of their oppressors and, as a result, in effect, long for the days of their captivity.  They were unprepared for freedom because they were unprepared to release the chains of familiarity. Upon returning from his communication with God, Moses was enraged at the site of his people celebrating the ways of the oppressor and, therefore, their oppression.  Despite all they had witnessed and survived, they were not ready for liberation. 

As punishment for their transgression, they had to wander in the desert for forty years until those who were still mentally enslaved would die off, and a new generation could replace them.  And what of Moses? During the course of the journey in the desert, Moses also lost faith and did not heed the words of God and, as a result, would not enter the promised land.  While he was allowed to see it, he also demonstrated that he, too, was not fully free from the shackles of the past and would not fully enjoy the fruits of his labor.

So, what does this mean to Black people today?  It means that for as long as we are holding to the trappings of our oppressors and longing for the gentle touch of the oppressor, we may see a promised land, imagine a promised land, but will never enter a promised land.  We will remain forever at the mountaintop.  We will continue to wander and survive, but we will perish before we reach our true potential.  Likewise, those who claim to lead us may get a little further and “see” a little more, but like Moses, will never enter the promised land. 

The author concludes that the promise land is not a predetermined geographic location but a metaphorical one that can be built in any place at any time. It is a place that can only be entered by creating a new narrative, a new future, and a new perspective completely divorced from our current one.  If we hold on to the language, symbolism, philosophies, and spiritual perceptions of those who have oppressed us, our promised land will remain an unfulfilled promise. 

We must stop passing down our chains to each new generation, shackling them with our vices, mythologies of inferiority, and desire to be welcomed and embraced by those who would do us harm. We must envision a future free of labels that divide us and restrict our thinking, artificial borders drawn up by our oppressors long before our birth must be erased, and free ourselves of imagery that denies our divinity and language that celebrates and encourages our demise.   Harriet Tubman reportedly stated, “If I could have convinced more slaves they were slaves, I could have freed thousands more.” 

To enter a promise land, we must be prepared to see our chains, discard them, and never pick them up again.  When our patience and faith are tested, we must resist the urge to return to the familiar, for it is the familiar that keeps us enslaved.  How do we do this?  We must get comfortable with being uncomfortable.  We must realize that gold chains are still chains and that the birth of freedom is a painful but glorious process that must be endured if a better future is to be realized.  So, let us free ourselves, come down from the mountaintop, cross the river, and enter the promised land together.