by Pastor Doug Robinson-Johnson
I visited the Harriet Tubman Underground Railroad Visitor Center in Church Creek, Maryland, shortly after it opened in 2017. When I returned home to Massachusetts, I found myself reflecting deeply on three experiences from that visit. Looking back, I believe those moments of enlightenment were gifts from God—better late than never—that prepared me for what God would call me to do next in 2019.
As I entered the museum, I was drawn through exhibits about Tubman’s childhood in slavery toward a window overlooking the landscape she once crossed in her flight to freedom. From there, I entered the Night Forest simulation, where visitors are invited to imagine navigating toward freedom using only the stars above. Finally, I was drawn to maps of the Underground Railroad itself—the network of people and places where those escaping slavery could find mercy, shelter, and safety.
One of those safe houses was located just down the street from my church in Newton, Massachusetts. I had no idea.
In school, I had learned a simplified version of the story: once Harriet Tubman and others reached Philadelphia, they were essentially free. But after visiting the museum, I made my way to the Jackson Homestead and Museum in the town where I worked, Newton, where I learned more about the Fugitive Slave Act of 1850 and the continuing danger faced by escaped slaves, even in the North. When I arrived, a docent remarked with some surprise, “You’ve lived here for six years, and this is your first visit?” Then, with grace and kindness, she added, “Oh well—better late than never.”
In 2019, God called me into ministry at National United Methodist Church. My appointment included responsibility for ministry across three campuses, one of which was a richly multicultural congregation. Many members had grown up celebrating Juneteenth—the day when news and enforcement of the Emancipation Proclamation finally reached enslaved people in Galveston, Texas, more than two years after Abraham Lincoln had signed it. Better late than never.
Earlier in my life, I might have viewed Juneteenth as a celebration belonging primarily to the Black community. I might have thought it was enough to honor Martin Luther King Jr. Day and continue moving forward with the work of civil rights. But my visit to the Harriet Tubman Underground Railroad Visitor Center had changed me. It had opened my eyes to the ways freedom has often been delayed, denied, or made incomplete for people of color in America.
As a result, I came to embrace Juneteenth alongside those National UMC parishioners not only as a celebration of liberation but also as an opportunity for personal confession. Leviticus 25:1–17 describes God’s vision of Jubilee, a time when debts were forgiven, land was restored, and those held in servitude were set free. The passage makes clear that God does not intend for any human being to remain trapped in bondage forever. Yet forms of servitude, oppression, and injustice persist in every generation. Juneteenth invites us to consider that we are likely to be on one side or the other of such oppression, just like our ancestors in Galveston, Texas. It is better to come to that truth sooner than later. But better late than never.
