Dreaming With MLK and LGBTQ+ Prophets

Editor’s Note: Today is a holiday in the United States commemorating the birthday of Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., the slain civil rights prophet. His dream lives on, now more than ever. 

On a blustery day last May, my wife and I visited the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis. Like most visitors, we paused before entering the museum, riveted by the sight of the balcony of the Lorraine Motel where Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., was gunned down in April 1968. 

A stone memorial faces that fateful spot, covered in worn engraving. I stepped closer to the marker, idly wondering what would be written there. Would King’s friends and supporters have memorialized him with a comforting Bible verse, a nod to his trust in God? Or would they have selected King’s own words, one of his most famous quotes, to speak to his enduring legacy? I half-expected to see part of the “I have a dream” speech inscribed there. Instead, I read these words:

“They said to one another, 

Behold, here cometh the dreamer…

Let us slay him…

And we shall see what will become of his dreams.” 

Genesis 37:19-20

I broke out in goosebumps as I recognized the passage. These are the words of Joseph’s brothers, the sons of Jacob in the Hebrew Scriptures, plotting to kill him because of their jealousy. They resented Joseph’s prophetic dreams. They decided not only to reject his vision, but also to attack him. This quotation is an obscure scripture about brotherhood gone awry, about vengeance and petty cruelty. By making an implicit comparison between Joseph and Rev. King, the epigraph both recognizes the evil done on that spot and acknowledges that those responsible for King’s death were indeed his brothers – his fellow children of God, despite their rejection of his prophetic vision.

MLK delivering the “I Have a Dream” speech at the 1963 March on Washington.

As I stood before the memorial, the darkness of these words rolled back and I was struck with their irony. Joseph’s brothers did indeed see what became of his dreams: they saw each one fulfilled, in spite of their best efforts to prevent it! They could not kill Joseph, or his dreams. Though King died in 1968, his dream lives on. Those who plotted against him were helpless to kill his legacy. Future generations will continue to see what will become of King’s dream of racial equity.

My wife and I pondered what all of this means for us, as LGBTQ+ Catholics. Like King, we have a dream – in our case, a dream of an inclusive Catholic Church, in which all people can live into their full vocations. We dream of full inclusion, not just regardless of gender and sexuality, but embracing them. 

Even though we may not see those dreams fulfilled in our lifetimes, that will not mean that we have failed. It will not mean that, as Joseph’s brothers assumed, our dreams are ridiculous. It will simply mean we must take “the long view.” In the words of a prayer associated with another modern martyr, Saint Oscar Romero: “We accomplish in our lifetime only a tiny fraction of the magnificent enterprise that is God’s work…We are prophets of a future not our own.”

The author in front of the Lorraine Motel sign.

I thank God for the LGBTQ+ prophets and dreamers who fought for marriage equality in the United States, though many of them never saw it realized. It was thanks to them that my wife and I happened to be celebrating our fourth wedding anniversary that weekend. As we stood in front of the Lorraine Motel together, we remembered with gratitude all those whose dreams made our reality possible. We thank God for the work, vision, and advocacy that outlived them.

In today’s political and ecclesial climate, I can so easily feel disillusioned by setbacks. Following the Synod on Synodality and the U.S. general election this fall, I have asked myself why I got my hopes up. Is dreaming too risky? Should I make my dreams smaller and more realistic? 

King’s legacy reminds us of the power – and the danger – of dreams. Dreams can challenge the established order, create friction, and lead to disappointment when they don’t come true on our timetables. But the biggest dreams transcend our lifespans. When change seems too slow, or even to be moving in the wrong direction, I often think of King’s words: “The arc of the moral universe is long, but it bends toward justice.”

King’s dreams outlived him. The best dreams always do, because they are more resilient than flesh and blood. May we keep dreaming big dreams, and may our dreams outlive us all.

–Ariell Watson Simon, New Ways Ministry, January 20, 2025