Honoring Martin Luther King Jr. by Refusing Silence

“Have nothing to do with the fruitless deeds of darkness, but rather expose them.” Ephesians 5:11

Today we honor Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.

Not the sanitized version we are taught to celebrate, but the man as he was in his time.

He was not popular.

He was not safe.

He was not welcomed by those in power.

Dr. King challenged the status quo. He named injustice plainly. He refused to accept systems that harmed people while calling themselves righteous. For that, he was surveilled, discredited, threatened, and ultimately killed.

History now reveres him.

Not because he was agreeable, but because he was right.

That same pattern runs throughout scripture.

Jesus did not accommodate power.

He confronted it.

Jesus spoke truth to religious leaders, political authorities, and institutions that oppressed the vulnerable while cloaking themselves in moral authority. He overturned tables. He called hypocrisy what it was. He warned against harming “the least of these.”

And for that truth, he was crucified by the powers that be.

So were the prophets before him.

Jeremiah was imprisoned.

Isaiah was rejected.

Amos was told to go back where he came from.

Every prophet who spoke truth to power was labeled dangerous by the system. Not because they were wrong, but because they threatened an order that benefited those in control.

Someone recently asked me whether my advocacy has caused me any “problems.”

My answer was simple: Absolutely Not.

Because the moment I center my own comfort or safety over children being harmed every day, I become complicit. I become no different from the systems imposing harm while calling it protection.

This isn’t about me.

It’s about children.

This week, many were rightfully horrified to hear that an ICE agent sprayed tear gas near a six-month-old baby, leaving the child struggling to breathe. At the surface, the story feels shocking. Violent. Unacceptable.

But those of us close to the child welfare system know something uncomfortable:

We commit a different form of violence every day.

We rip infants from their mothers.

We sever biological bonds.

We call it safety.

We call it care.

We call it love.

Yes, a child may not be physically injured during a removal. But the emotional and psychological trauma of forced separation does not disappear. It settles into the nervous system. It shapes attachment. It echoes into adulthood.

The Bible is clear about this.

Jesus warned that it would be better to have a millstone tied around one’s neck than to harm a child. He did not say this only to individuals. He said it to leaders, to systems, to institutions that confuse power with righteousness.

If we claim to be child advocates, silence is not neutrality

It is participation.

Dr. King understood this.

Jesus understood this.

The prophets understood this.

Justice has never been popular in its time.

Speaking truth comes with inconvenience.

And righteousness does not aligned neatly with power.

I will not stay quiet.

I will continue to speak.

I will continue to challenge systems that harm children while claiming moral authority.

That is not radical.

That is our moral obligation. 

Let’s be honest about what the term child advocate actually means.

A child advocate does not defend systems.

A child advocate defends children, even when it costs something.

A child advocate does not prioritize access, reputation, or comfort.

A child advocate prioritizes truth, dignity, and the child’s birthright to remain in their family.

If we know this is true, we are accountable for what we do next. We are accountable for the questions we ask, the narratives we repeat, and the harm we excuse in the name of order or protection.

Ephesians 5:11 does not call us to comfort.

It calls us to exposure.

Not to shame, but to truth.

Not to destruction, but to repentance and change.

If we dare to call ourselves advocates for children and followers of Christ, then refusing silence is not optional.

It is the work.