One Sunday, Aimee Semple McPherson denounced hundreds of KKK Klansmen who came to her church dressed in their usual regalia.
Her sermon that day was about a Black farmer who was escorted out of a prominent church in the big city. Once outside, he was invited to attend a African-American church about a mile down the road. The man sat down on the church steps, and started weeping until a stranger put his hand on the farmer’s shoulder and said, “I too, have been trying to get into that church for many, many years.” When the farmer looked up, he saw the “sad, compassionate face of Christ” beside him.
Then Sister Aimee looked at the Klansmen seated in her church and told them, “You men who pride yourselves on ‘patriotism,’ who have pledged yourselves to make America free for ‘White Christianity,’ listen to me. . . . Ask yourselves, how is it possible to pretend to worship the greatest Jew that ever lived and then despise living Jews and to judge the value of a man by the color of his skin? I say unto you as our Master said, ‘judge not, that ye be not judged.’”
Roberta recalls her mother’s “eyes burning with an unquenchable fire.” The Klansmen rose from their seats and left.