As I witness the world around me increasingly embroiled in enmity and mistrust, I find myself even more in awe of the courageous men and women who have modeled ways of addressing deep conflict through nonviolence—fostering hope for transformation and a path toward healing. We recently celebrated Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Day, a day that invites us to reflect not only on the world around us, but also on our role within it. What follows are my humble and inadequate reflections on this costly and transformational work to foster peace..

As I write these words, I must confess how much I still have to learn about this journey. By nature, I am compassionate and passionate about justice and the work of building peace. I am convinced that this is an essential part of who Jesus has called me—and every follower of Jesus—to be, as a Christian and as a neighbor. And yet, if I am honest with myself, I am often cautious about stepping into tension. I know that true peace can only come as we address suffering and injustice in our world, and that such work requires both a humble posture of learning and a courageous, radical love—the kind that can lead to transformation, within myself and within the dynamics around me.

I am acutely aware that the work of peacebuilding is neither fuzzy nor simple, but intentional and costly. It requires a vision much greater than merely ending violence; it calls us to seek flourishing—shalom—in our communities and world. Jesus calls us to love our neighbors as ourselves (Mark 12:31), and thus to desire the good of those we know and those from whom we may feel distant. As I seek opportunities to experience the fullness of life, I am called to seek that for my neighbors as well. Jesus also made it clear that “neighbor” may include someone with whom I have deep differences, as illustrated in the story of the Good Samaritan. On an even more radical note, he calls us to “love our enemies and pray for those who persecute us.” This is a unique and powerful calling that reflects the character of Jesus and of radical, transforming love.

Recently I had the privilege of participating in a cohort of Christian leaders as we learned about the harsh realities and enduring impact of racial discrimination in the United States, and as we gained wisdom from men and women who have worked for civil rights and the creation of a more just society. Gaining deeper awareness of the history of the Atlantic slave trade, racial segregation, voter suppression, mass incarceration, and their continued impacts humbled me and weighed heavily on my heart. I realized how much I still have to learn about the structures in which I participate—structures that continue to harm my neighbors. I acknowledge that I have lived a life shielded from much of this pain, and that I will never fully understand all that such gracious courage entails.

As I have reflected on the life of Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. and listened to those who were involved in the Civil Rights Movement, I have been deeply impacted by his call to love. This was not a theoretical love, but a gritty, costly love that acknowledged our shared humanity and brokenness and that worked toward restoration and healing, even when it felt distant and inaccessible. Dr. King famously said, “Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.” He also noted that hate is too great a burden to bear and that “love is the only force capable of transforming an enemy into a friend.” This is the gospel message of reconciliation.

Such love is courageous. It does not avoid complex and painful realities or paint over suffering with easy optimism. It does not enable injustice or oppression to continue, but calls them to account with truth and hope rather than violence. It is a love that I have only glimpses of, yet one I long to grow into more fully. It is a love that does not compromise in the face of injustice—a love that is courageous but not vengeful, honest yet still hopeful, and willing to risk even life itself to honor the humanity of those around us. This was the love that Dr. King and so many others were willing to suffer and die for. It was not a denial of pain, righteous anger, or fear, but a courageous decision not to let those emotions turn hearts toward hatred and enmity.

I am so grateful that I have had the privilege of encountering men and women who reflect and radiate this love as they engage complex issues in our day. It is attractive, gracious, and strong with the capacity to walk in joy and beauty even as it addresses injustice and pain. It reflects the love of Jesus—who called sin to account while inviting us into a new way of being with one another. It reflects a deep security in God’s love toward us, even amid the messages we receive in a world marked by enmity and pain. I believe it is God Himself who enables us to walk in such love.

One of those examples is Dr. John Perkins. I had the privilege of briefly meeting him when he visited the college where I previously worked. Dr. Perkins has faithfully demonstrated this radical, transforming love throughout his life. Although he has endured horrendous abuse and personal loss, he continues to choose a love that calls us into a new reality—even when we cannot yet fully see it. He founded the Christian Community Development Association and has inspired countless others to follow his example. I recently came across the following quotation shared on X (@JohnMPerkins):

When Dr. John M. Perkins says ‘the real revolution is learning to love beyond our fears,’ he’s not giving us a quote… he’s giving us a road map. A call to rise. A call to reconcile. A call to courageous love—the kind that heals neighborhoods, families, generations. This isn’t soft. This is the bravest work in the world. And it starts with us. Let’s be the revolution. Let’s love past fear. Let’s build the world our children deserve."

This radical, transforming love is also a foundational aspect of our witness as followers of Jesus—for such is the love of Christ. I have not experienced the pain and risk that many around me face, especially in these turbulent times. Yet I believe this call to radical love is not only for those who lead social movements, but is also lived out in the moment-by-moment decisions we make and in the ways we engage those around us. Although radical, it is not grandiose, but humble—calling us to examine our hearts and seek to understand the lives of others. It cannot be captured in a tweet or even an essay; it is lived out in the messy places of community, relationships, and daily life. I certainly do not have this figured out, and I continually pray for wisdom about how to put love into action—when to step back and examine my heart, and when to step forward in partnership with my neighbors. I invite you to join me as we learn from those who have gone before us and walk this path together.