We as a nation must undergo a radical revolution of values… when machines and computers, profit motives and property rights, are considered more important than people, the giant triplets of racism, extreme materialism, and militarism are incapable of being conquered… true compassion is more than flinging a coin to a beggar; it comes to see that an edifice that produces beggars needs restructuring.”
I have been asked to speak about the enduring legacy of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. through the lens of religion. This, I believe, is a fitting way to reflect on his life and witness. When President Ronald Reagan declared Martin Luther King Jr. Day—after a long and difficult period of national negotiation—he spoke of King’s religious legacy in these words: “King was truly a prophetic voice… guided by the deepest principles of our Christian faith.”
Dr. King stands firmly within the progressive, liberationist tradition of Christianity. Like the prophets before him, he made common cause with the poor, the marginalized, and the despised of society. He identified God as the God of the oppressed—one who takes sides with those who suffer injustice and are crushed by structures of sin and evil. King championed a religion of compassion, love, and community, and he embraced nonviolence not only as a pragmatic strategy but as a spiritual discipline—a practice of solidarity capable of liberating both oppressed and oppressor.
Dr. King was, at heart, a preacher in the Black Baptist tradition. He spoke with biblical authority and deployed a liberationist hermeneutic in interpreting Scripture. As Valentino Lassiter observed, biblical authority gave King the force and impetus to demand justice in the name of a God who stands with the poor. Yet his religious vision was also shaped by African roots and Black religious experience. As W. E. B. Du Bois once described Black faith, it carried “a pythian madness,” a holy audacity born of suffering, hope, and supernatural joy.
King championed a religion of compassion, love, and community, and embraced nonviolence not merely as strategy, but as a spiritual discipline capable of liberating both oppressed and oppressor.”
It takes a kind of sacred “craziness” to hope audaciously in the midst of pain, exclusion, and closed doors. Dr. King drew his spiritual vision from the Black Church, from his own encounters with racism, and from his solidarity with suffering peoples in India, Latin America, and Africa. Above all, his vision was formed in prayer. Reflecting on St. Paul, he wrote:
“There are some who still find the cross a stumbling block… but I am more convinced than ever before that it is the power of God unto social and individual salvation… The suffering and agonizing moments through which I have passed… have drawn me closer to God.”
King’s faith was also nourished by the Negro spirituals—“We Shall Overcome,” “Climbing Jacob’s Ladder,” “Surely He Died on Calvary.” As James Cone reminds us, keeping hope alive was never easy for African Americans facing state-sanctioned terror. Dr. King saw in the lynching tree the cross of Jesus in America. His prophetic life can be summarized as a response to Christ’s call: “Take up your cross and follow me.”
Through faith, King confronted the deepest human questions: Who is God? Who is the human person? Why suffering? Why evil? What is the future of humanity? By embracing the Cross, he discovered the courage to love, the strength to resist evil, and the praxis of nonviolence that transforms both persons and structures. “Love is the most durable power in the world… the most potent instrument available in mankind’s quest for peace.”
King knew that the crucified people of America were Black—the enslaved, incarcerated, segregated, and lynched. That knowledge shaped his readiness to give his life. But the Cross also revealed something more: reconciliation. The healing of the nation begins with reconciling the nation to its past; not with erasing the past but not allowing the past to become a perpetual burden to destroy today and ruin the future.
The Beloved Community
For Dr. King, the goal of all religion is the creation of the Beloved Community. As James Cone explains, God’s love created humanity for community; white supremacy shattered it; and reconciliation through the Cross ensures that injustice never has the final word. God’s reconciling love empowers humanity to bear witness against evil—whatever the cost.
The Beloved Community is not a utopia, but a moral and spiritual vision grounded in justice, peace, reconciliation, and shared destiny.”
The Beloved Community is not a utopia. It is a moral and spiritual vision grounded in justice, peace, and shared destiny. King taught us to imagine a better possible world—and to begin building it where we are: in families, universities, workplaces, churches, and nations.
Since COVID-19, I have reflected deeply on how fractured our world has become. Nationalism, racism, exclusionary ideologies, destructive economic orthodoxies, and new architectures of violence dominate our headlines. From Gaza to Ukraine, Sudan to Congo, despair and bitterness widen the wounds of humanity. These are not inevitable. They are the result of ethical choices—of systems that elevate a few while impoverishing many.
In this wounded world, we gather to hear again the words of our great ancestor. Dr. King taught us to dream, to resist, to forgive, to love, and to hope. As he wrote:
“God does not forget His children who are victims of evil forces… He is with us not only in the noontime of fulfillment but also in the midnight of despair.”
(Strength to Love)
Proposals for Building the Beloved Community
My first proposal is simple but demanding: each of us must live with a deep sense of our beauty before God and our unique mission in the world. Beloved communities are built by people who know they are called. Dr. King never separated his preaching from his prophetic vocation. He understood his mission as received from God.
During the Montgomery Bus Boycott, exhausted and afraid after a death threat, King prayed:
“I am here taking a stand for what I believe is right. But now I am afraid.”
And he heard a voice: “Stand up for righteousness… God will be at your side forever.”
Faith, for King, was fuel. It gave purpose, courage, and interior freedom. It sharpened conscience, named evil, and sustained hope when circumstances conspired against justice.
Without transcendent interior resources, life becomes shallow and heedless. King contrasted a God-centered ethic of nonviolence with a man-centered ethic of racism, nihilism, militarism, and greed:
“We have relied on gods rather than God… These transitory gods are not able to save us.”
The Beloved Community emerges when ends and means are united. As King warned, we cannot reach good ends through evil means. The seed determines the tree.
King was not a fundamentalist, nor did he long for Christendom. Like Frederick Douglass and David Walker, he criticized Christianity’s complicity in racism and injustice. In Letter from Birmingham Jail, he lamented the church’s silence and “pious irrelevancies.”
We cannot build the Beloved Community through hatred, domination, or violence; the seed determines the tree, and the means shape the end.”
The Beloved Community must be ecumenical:
“Our loyalties must transcend our race, our tribe, our class, and our nation… We must learn to live together as brothers or perish together as fools.”
Religion, at its best, promotes peace. King insisted that all great religions center on love—but too often believers fail to live their creeds.
“Man is a child of God… Until we truly believe in the sacredness of human personality, we will be fighting wars.”
Conclusion
When King spoke of the Beloved Community, he echoed the African wisdom of ubuntu: I am because we are. Pope Francis names this a culture of encounter—a way of seeing and being with the other.
When King was assassinated, his friend Thích Nhất Hạnh wrote: “They killed him. They killed my hope.” Yet later he vowed to continue building the Beloved Community—for himself and for King.
So, I ask you: What are you promising Dr. King today?
Community transcends creed, color, class, clime, and cult. We all can commit ourselves to building the community of the beloved everywhere: It is who we are.
Breakfast Spiritual Reflection prepared for Martin Luther King Jr. Day, DePaul University (01.20.2024).