Growing up, I often wondered what it would be like to stand alongside heroes—people who didn’t just talk about changing the world but gave their lives to it. People like Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. While in college, I read about his leadership, his speeches, and his dream of a “Beloved Community.” It sparked something in me, much like the power of Dr. King’s words when he declared, “I don’t know what will happen now. We’ve got some difficult days ahead. But it doesn’t matter…because I’ve been to the mountaintop…. 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.” That conviction—the unwavering hope in the face of uncertainty—reminds me that even when the journey is steep and the days are hard, we press on, knowing that God’s promises await just beyond the horizon. We will need this conviction in the days ahead.
Dr. King’s Beloved Community was more than an idea; it was a vision of justice, equality, and love. A world where barriers that divide us—race, class, power—are broken down, and we live into the truth that we are all God’s beloved. But as I reflect on his dream today, it’s hard to ignore how far we still are from living it out.
- We fall short when we choose silence over speaking up against injustice, fearing discomfort or conflict more than we value the dignity and worth of others.
- We fall short when we cling to the safety of sameness, seeking out only those who look, think, and live like us, instead of embracing the richness of God’s diverse creation.
- We fall short when we confuse charity with justice—offering temporary fixes rather than working to dismantle the systems that perpetuate inequality.
- We fall short when our churches reflect exclusion rather than the radical hospitality of Christ, prioritizing convenience or tradition over creating spaces where everyone feels they truly belong.
- We fall short when we offer prayers for peace but neglect the hard work of confronting the injustices that make peace impossible.
Dr. King’s Beloved Community calls us beyond these shortcomings, challenging us to dismantle the barriers that divide and to live fully into the truth of God’s kingdom—a kingdom where justice and love flow freely for all.
Each year on MLK Day, I revisit Letter from a Birmingham Jail, King’s response to white clergy who critiqued his work as “unwise and untimely.” These leaders called for peace without justice, a negative peace that avoided conflict but allowed oppression to persist. King’s response is as poignant now as it was then:
“Shallow understanding from people of good will is more frustrating than absolute misunderstanding from people of ill will. Lukewarm acceptance is much more bewildering than outright rejection.”
Those words hit home for me every time I read them. If I’m honest, there have been moments when I’ve prioritized keeping the peace over pursuing justice. Times I’ve used words like “unity” or “love” not as bridges to hard conversations but as shields to avoid them. It’s easy to assume that, had I been alive in 1963, I would have marched with King. But when I read his letter, I wonder if I wouldn’t have been among those urging him to wait.
In his letter, King describes the process of “self-purification” as preparation for the hard work of justice. It was a time of prayer, reflection, and honest questioning. Would they endure blows without retaliating? Could they withstand the challenges ahead? This practice reminds me of Lamentations 3:40: “Let us examine our ways and test them, and let us return to the Lord.”
This idea of self-purification feels urgent for us as a church today. Wellspring’s vision is to be a God-loving, inclusive community of compassion, healing, growth, and service. But living that vision requires more than good intentions; it calls us to examine how we’re showing up in the world: Are we actively breaking down the barriers—of race, class, or power—that prevent us from living as God’s beloved community? Are we listening with humility to the voices of those who are different from us, even when their stories challenge our comfort or assumptions? Are we willing to confront the ways we fall short and allow God to reshape us into a people of compassion, justice, equality, and radical love?
MLK Day offers us the chance to pause, reflect, and recommit. I encourage you to take some time this week for your own self-purification. Read Letter from a Birmingham Jail—not just to admire King’s words but to ask how they speak to us here and now. Pray for the Spirit’s guidance in the work of healing and justice. Seek out stories and perspectives that stretch you, challenge you, and deepen your understanding.
Wellspring, this is the work of becoming the Beloved Community—a people formed by God’s story, living out Christ’s love in tangible, transformative ways.
As we journey together, may we be reminded of who we are and whose we are. Let’s be the church the world needs right now.
In grace and peace,
Pastor Corey
Read The Letters:
Prayer for Justice:
Grant us, Lord God, a vision of your world as your love would have it:
a world where the weak are protected, and none go hungry or poor;
a world where the riches of creation are shared, and everyone can enjoy them;
a world where different races and cultures live in harmony and mutual respect;
a world where peace is built with justice, and justice is guided by love.
Give us the inspiration and courage to build it, through Jesus Christ our Lord.
Open my eyes that I may see the needs of others
Open my ears that I may hear their cries;
Open my heart so that they need not be without succor;
Let me not be afraid to defend the weak because of the anger of the strong,
Nor afraid to defend the poor because of the anger of the rich.
Show me where love and hope and faith are needed,
And use me to bring them to those places.
And so open my eyes and my ears
That I may this coming day be able to do some work of peace for thee.
Amen.