Be real. America hated Dr. King then and now.

The annual performative histrionics about Dr. King's are ending (again). Now the real work begins (again).

Once again, we've completed our annual ritual of performative idolization of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Hopefully, you enjoyed the fancy breakfasts, well-dressed keynotes, and the gazillion social media posts.

I retweeted. Therefore, I am.

This would have been Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.'s 95th birthday if the government hadn't killed him. I'm no psychic, but my best guess is that he would not appreciate the post-Obama politics that are characterized by attempts to secure free speech for racists on Twitter but book bans for kids in schools. He wouldn't applaud the people who lionize his "dream" speech while fighting against his calls for systemic racial justice in the form of economic reparations and guarantees for education, housing, and income.

By now, many commentators have already reminded us that Dr. King, the man we now see as a beacon of hope and a primary symbol of the civil rights movement today, was one of the most unpopular leaders in America on the day he died. We must remember that this holiday we take for granted was an improbable idea for many years before Ronald Regan begrudgingly signed it into law in 1983.

Being so facile about our understanding of Dr. King, so ready to suck down the Spenda™ Kookaid that has become the commercialized media version of him, and so incurious about the deeper meanings of his teachings is akin to killing him again every year.

I include myself in this criticism. I've read and digested Dr. King's writing in spurts over the years. I'm as willing to write reflexively about him because the holiday to honor his name feels like it has lost its salt.

That's a bible reference. Dr. King was a theologian. We don't talk about that because the way we reconstructed him after his death is only a scandal until you remember what they did to Jesus.

Two speeches from Dr. King's portfolio make convenient bookends to his philosophical achievements. The first is his earliest known sermon, "Paul's Letter to American Christians," delivered in 1958.

The second is his prophetic "I've Been to the Mountaintop" speech given in Memphis on April 3, 1968, days before white supremacy assassinated him.

In his earliest speech, Dr. King adopted the persona of Apostle Paul to critique America's spiritual and moral progress, juxtaposing it against the backdrop of its scientific advancements. This sermon highlighted the profound discrepancies between the nation's technological achievements and ethical development. Through Paul's voice, Dr. King questioned whether America's moral and spiritual growth was keeping pace with its material progress, a theme increasingly relevant in our rapidly advancing world.

In an age when generative AI and big tech have us on the deck for a fourth industrial revolution, and yet we still have arguments about whether or not we should feed the nation's children, I think Christians could do well to re-read the speech that brought Dr. King into our lives. Its message remains intact and urgent as the day he wrote it.

Dr. King's last speech echoes a different but equally powerful theme. Here, he spoke of the ongoing struggle for civil rights and economic justice, mainly focusing on the plight of sanitation workers in Memphis. This speech is renowned for its foreboding sense of King's mortality and destiny. His words, "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," resonate with a prophetic vision for the future, a future of equality and justice.

When I visited Memphis in 2015, one of my tour guides told me that a man still working for the city's sanitation division was there when Dr. King came to fight for worker's rights. This man was still working after all those years and still hadn't been made financially whole by the city that killed a King.

Connecting the letter to Christians with the pursuit of the promised land provides a lens for reifying Dr. King's enduring vision. Though years apart, both speeches reflect a steadfast commitment to justice, nonviolence, and the importance of moral and spiritual integrity. His consistent emphasis on these principles forms the cornerstone of his enduring legacy.

Those of us who claim faith and still believe in human progress must remember that faith without works is dead.

In 2024, as we face our own societal and global challenges, the teachings and messages of Dr. King remain profoundly relevant. His call for moral and ethical considerations to keep pace with material progress, his advocacy for unity and nonviolent protest, and his unyielding belief in the power of love and justice offer us guidance and inspiration.

Dr. King's vision encourages us to strive for a society where everyone is valued, and justice prevails. His life and words remind us that, despite our challenges, hope and resilience are potent forces for change.

Many of his words have stuck with me and inspired me to take action and to be focused on justice.

Here’s one: “Everybody can be great...because anybody can serve. You don't have to have a college degree to serve. You don't have to make your subject and verb agree to serve. You only need a heart full of grace. A soul generated by love.”

I wish I could say that I have a heart full of grace or a soul generated by love, but, in fact, I have a mind full of noise and a soul weary from trying to make sense of the needless suffering we still cause each other.

So, in more practical terms, if being great seems too high a mountain to climb, being good is the next best vista. Being good could mean donating time, money, and talent to organizations feeding the hungry, visiting the incarcerated, supporting single mothers, clothing those who shiver, fighting to end rampant militarism, and inviting people reflective of humanity’s diversity to a common table.

I’ve seen Dr. King’s mountain top. I may not get there, but I want you to know today, that we, as a people, will get to the promised land.