Johnson is a United Methodist pastor, the author of "Holding Up Your Corner: Talking About Race in Your Community" (Abingdon Press, 2017) and program director for the Bridge Alliance, which houses The Fulcrum.
As I reflect, my spirit is a mix of melancholy and optimism, a paradox inherent in the annual observance of the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday. The legacy of Dr. King, who embodied the audacity of hope and the relentless pursuit of justice, remains a prophetic standard in these uncertain times, illuminating a path toward the "beloved community" he so passionately envisioned.
Our democracy, a system designed to uphold the principles of liberty, justice and equality, seems to be teetering on a precipice. The impending 2024 presidential election doesn't invoke optimism but provokes division and uncertainty. In these moments of instability, I cling to King's unyielding faith in the power of unity and the promise of democracy. His dream was not one of complacency but of continuous striving – striving to create a society where equity is not a hollow promise but a lived reality.
There is no discounting the positive societal changes witnessed over the years since King's death, particularly in civil rights and social justice. The Civil Rights Act of 1964 and the Voting Rights Act of 1965, both championed by King, marked the beginning of a new era of progress, setting a precedent for the fight against discrimination in all its forms.
The world King left behind has changed dramatically, yet the persistent racial, socio-economic and geopolitical imbalances he fought against are still enormously present. The scales of justice tip more towards privilege than the marginalized, more towards the haves than the have-nots. And there is still much ground to cover.
I'd like to see more change in the realm of economic equity. The wealth gap, particularly along racial lines, continues to be a pressing issue. Second is greater expansion, accessibility and inclusiveness of voter rights. Respectfully, that impacts above all other aspects of life, including access to quality education, health care and opportunities for upward mobility.
Amid the noise, I listen and lean to King's resilience and unrelenting belief in the power of love and unity to overcome the deepest divides. The "beloved community" he envisaged isn't a utopia free from conflict; instead, it is one where discord is contested through mutual respect and understanding, where love and justice supplant hate and inequity.
The beloved community is a divine promise yet to be fully realized. It is not an unreachable ideal but a call to action. It is a challenge for us, regardless of race, religion, or socio-economic status, to actively contribute to building a society that reflects the values of equity, justice and love. Our shared journey towards achieving this goal is a collaborative one.
Each of us has a role in bringing about this change. One way I can contribute is through advocacy and education. Through our respective platforms we can create more informed and engaged communities, bringing us closer to realizing King's dream amid these uncertain times.
As we engage in the democratic work and responsibilities of this year, let us believe that our democracy, though seemingly unstable, is not beyond repair. The power to effect change lies within ourselves. This year's election is a crucial opportunity to shape history and create a narrative of progress, inclusivity and justice. Our respective actions, or lack thereof, will determine the course of our nation and the world's future.
In paying tribute to the enduring legacy of the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., we should not merely laud his achievements and idolize his persona. Instead, let our nation wholeheartedly embrace his vision by actively engaging in the battle for social justice. Let us strive to transform our society into one where love and justice reign supreme. Though the path may be fraught with challenges, let King's witness of hope and unity anchor our efforts in unsettling times.
We may not simply treat this year's national observance as a mere day off but rather as a call to action for each of us to contribute to the advancement and uplift of us all. I pray we respect King's divine expectation of a beloved community not as a relic of the past but as a blueprint for the now and the not yet.




















U.S. Secretary of State Marco Rubio delivers a keynote speech at the 62nd Munich Security Conference on Saturday, Feb. 14, 2026, in Munich, Germany.
Marco Rubio is the only adult left in the room
Finally free from the demands of being chief archivist of the United States, secretary of state, national security adviser and unofficial viceroy of Venezuela, Marco Rubio made his way to the Munich Security Conference last weekend to deliver a major address.
I shouldn’t make fun. Rubio, unlike so many major figures in this administration, is a bona fide serious person. Indeed, that’s why President Trump keeps piling responsibilities on him. Rubio knows what he’s talking about and cares about policy. He is hardly a free agent; Trump is still president after all. But in an administration full of people willing to act like social media trolls, Rubio stands out for being serious. And I welcome that.
But just because Rubio made a serious argument, that doesn’t mean it was wholly persuasive. Part of his goal was to repair some of the damage done by his boss, who not long ago threatened to blow up the North Atlantic alliance by snatching Greenland away from Denmark. Rubio’s conciliatory language was welcome, but it hardly set things right.
Whether it was his intent or not, Rubio had more success in offering a contrast with Vice President JD Vance, who used the Munich conference last year as a platform to insult allies and provide fan service to his followers on X. Rubio’s speech was the one Vance should have given, if the goal was to offer a serious argument about Trump’s “vision” for the Western alliance. I put “vision” in scare quotes because it’s unclear to me that Trump actually has one, but the broader MAGA crowd is desperate to construct a coherent theory of their case.
So what’s that case? That Western Civilization is a real thing, America is not only part of it but also its leader, and it will do the hard things required to fix it.
In Rubio’s story, America and Europe embraced policies in the 1990s that amounted to the “managed decline” of the West. European governments were free riders on America’s military might and allowed their defense capabilities to atrophy as they funded bloated welfare states and inefficient regulatory regimes. Free trade, mass migration and an infatuation with “the rules-based global order” eroded national sovereignty, undermined the “cohesion of our societies” and fueled the “de-industrialization” of our economies. The remedy for these things? Reversing course on those policies and embracing the hard reality that strength and power drive events on the global stage.
“The fundamental question we must answer at the outset is what exactly are we defending,” Rubio said, “because armies do not fight for abstractions. Armies fight for a people; armies fight for a nation. Armies fight for a way of life.”
I agree with some of this — to a point. And, honestly, given how refreshing it is to hear a grown-up argument from this administration, it feels churlish to quibble.
But, for starters, the simple fact is that Western Civilization is an abstraction, and so are nations and peoples. And that’s fine. Abstractions — like love, patriotism, moral principles, justice — are really important. Our “way of life” is largely defined and understood through abstractions: freedom, the American dream, democracy, etc. What is the “Great” in Make America Great Again, if not an abstraction?
This is important because the administration’s defenders ridicule or dismiss any principled objection critics raise as fastidious gitchy-goo eggheadery. Trump tramples the rule of law, pardons cronies, tries to steal an election and violates free market principles willy-nilly. And if you complain, it’s because you’re a goody-goody fool.
As White House Deputy Chief of Staff Stephen Miller said not long ago, “we live in a world … that is governed by strength, that is governed by force, that is governed by power. These are the iron laws of the world that have existed since the beginning of time.” Rubio said it better, but it’s the same idea.
There are other problems with Rubio’s story. At the start of the 1990s, the EU’s economy was 9% bigger than ours. In 2025 we were nearly twice as rich as Europe. If Europe was “ripping us off,” they have a funny way of showing it. America hasn’t “deindustrialized.” The manufacturing sector has grown during all of this decline, though not as much as the service sector, where we are a behemoth. We have shed manufacturing jobs, but that has more to do with automation than immigration. Moreover, the trends Rubio describes are not unique to America. Manufacturing tends to shrink as countries get richer.
That’s an important point because Rubio, like his boss, blames all of our economic problems on bad politicians and pretends that good politicians can fix them through sheer force of will.
I think Rubio is wrong, but I salute him for making his case seriously.
Jonah Goldberg is editor-in-chief of The Dispatch and the host of The Remnant podcast. His Twitter handle is @JonahDispatch.