Martin...

"Let us rise up tonight with a greater readiness, let us stand with a greater determination, and let us move on in these powerful days, these days of challenge, to make America what it ought to be. We have an opportunity to make America a better nation, and I want to thank God, once more, for allowing me to be here with you." -MLK in Memphis, April 3, 1968

"But a Samaritan, as he traveled, came where the man was; and when he saw him, he took pity on him. He went to him and bandaged his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he put the man on his own donkey, brought him to an inn and took care of him." -Luke 10:33-34

I often like to highlight on MLK each year that I was named after Rev. King. It's an amazing legacy, mostly because I was named by a dad who was raised in Alabama in the 60's. It's a special honor I carry with me, and something I try often to remember to live into and up to.

And yet, this year has been different. So much, in fact, has been different. But as MLK Day approaches, I'm finding myself wrestling with much of what Dr. King said this year in a new way. You see, like many of us, come MLK Day, I post some quote, trying to capture the essence of Dr. King's thinking and to prove my credentials as someone who cares. But this year, I've tried something different. This year, I've tried to actually listen to his words.

If you're anything like me, you see a lot of the quotes and memes with Dr. King's face and words this time of year. What I'm finding is that they don't even begin to capture the essence of the man. I've been listening to his speeches, beginning to end, and I can't help but think we've so watered down his idea of nonviolence to the point of apathetic reservation. Or we've manipulated his words to endorse our own attitudes and actions.

The truth is, when I hear his words, all of his words, I don't feel endorsed. I don't feel encouraged. I don't feel proud of myself. I feel disappointed.

I feel disappointed that the calls he made 60 years ago still haven't been heeded today, that the America he describes them feels painfully similar to the America we have with us in 2021.

I feel disappointed because his nonviolence was not apathy, but action. It demanded stepping into harm's with with an impossible strength, determined not to strike back, to highlight that aggression and evil were not the tools of those fighting racism, but to maintain it. His nonviolence was rooted in sacrifice, for which we all know how it ended for him.

I feel disappointed because his words about riots feel misplaced in 2021. We take his words and validate the destruction of property, which he saw as a distraction from the message. In damage, the focus could be taken off of the purpose and onto the methods. And yet, we also miss the point he had made, that riots are a natural outcome when an entire community has been stripped of equal opportunity to health care, education, living wages generation after generation.

I feel disappointed because like Bonhoeffer, the faith of Rev. King recognized that the work of justice on behalf of God's kingdom would cost something, and I find myself, like many others, confusing activity with cost. The work of justice involves real-life choices that don't always stand in my best interest. The work of kingdom building involves choices with real-life consequences. Rev. King had words for white folk, for suburbanites, for Christians, for those with influence. It wasn't easy to follow King much like it wasn't without risk to follow Jesus. It isn't today either.

In listening to his words, I've found both a new appreciation for King as well as a new disappointment in myself. Much like with Jesus, I often try to tone down his words to make them more palatable, as if I can excuse myself from responsibility in this effort. I have simply been sitting in his words, letting them wash over my like a crashing wave and allowing myself to simply wade with their tide. Listening to King's words has reminded me that ignoring pain doesn't mean it isn't so, but rather that I have simply omitted my own responsibility from being a part of the healing.

So may we heed once again the radical words of Rev. King because radical they are. May we let them inform us, challenge us, heal us, and compel us. May we stop neutering them so that we can feel better about ourselves, but hear them so that we can figure out what's next. Now more than ever, I'm feeling particularly...

forever unfinished...