It's planning time for many congregations. Pastors and churches plunge into the New Year by tearing off the shrink wrap of new calendars and making plans. It's time to hit the reset button and start over.

The upcoming Martin Luther King, Jr. holiday offers a chance to revisit a congregation's commitment to participate in God's ongoing activity of reconciliation and healing in the world. This weekend offers the opportunity to remember not only King's dream of racial harmony, but also the theological underpinnings which gave birth to that dream. This is a primary task for the church. In the words of "A Brief Statement of Faith," one of the tasks of God's people is to "hear the voices of peoples long silenced, and to work with others for justice, freedom, and peace."

That remains as much a challenge now as it did during the time King was alive.

Like most people of my generation, I grew up surrounded by the stories of Civil Rights protests, bigotry, and Jim Crow laws. I heard stories of relatives who would not share a sidewalk with a black person, and heard others speak of "coloreds" in derogatory tones. I listened to my Chicago-born mother tell of being scolded when she tried to give up a seat on a bus to a black person, or accidentally drank from the "wrong" fountain while visiting in the south. I remember being told to "watch myself" while driving through "that part of town."

Thankfully, my parents embodied a breadth of tolerance, teaching me to delight in God's diversity. They taught me that the love of Christ knows no boundaries. They practiced that love in their work, their worship, and their relationships. Sadly, however, much of the church's record in matters of racial justice is mixed at best.

Perhaps it is time to hit the reset button.

It occurred to me the other day that because King's contribution to the Civil Rights movement is so monumental, we often forget that he was trained as a pastor. His gift to his ministry was his presence as a pastor/theologian. Long before he was organizing boycotts, he was visiting the sick and preparing weekly sermons.

As the pastor of Dexter Memorial Baptist Church in Montgomery, AL, King brought increased vitality to the historic congregation's ministry. He also arrived with a 34 point initiative for congregational revitalization, and was advised to quickly establish his program.

The plan was more pragmatic than theoretical, though it mixed the holy and the practical. King listed a variety of necessary improvements to the facility--new carpeting, a refrigerated water cooler, new paint in the basement.

And a pulpit.

As a pastor, King knew that if the congregation was going to be a fount of mission and change in the world, its worship needed to be vital and strong. As a theologian, he knew the importance of congregational ministry. According to biographer Clayborne Carson, he was convinced "that worship at its best is a social experience with people at all levels of life coming together to realize their oneness and unity under God."

Think of the significance of those words when placed against the rather ordinary changes he implemented. I imagine how good cold water tasted to persons who could not drink from every water fountain in town. I imagine how clear the preacher's words sounded to those pushed to the back of the bus. I imagine the proclamation of God's Word from the pulpit brought renewed hope. All of King's other accomplishments began with a few acts of good, pastoral planning.

King had more than a dream, he had a plan. Built on his theology and radiating from his core beliefs, the plan converted the congregation. The story of his plan for strengthening the congregation's life should bring hope to struggling congregations. Our denominations are closing old churches faster than we are opening new ones. Ministries of justice and reconciliation often lag. Some congregations are no longer connected to their communities. Others lack a plan for ministry.

As a pastor and theologian, King looked at the potential of a congregation to be a fountain of hope in the desperate conditions of its time. We need to consider that call once more. Our congregations are strategically located in places where God's messages can be heard. We have pulpits and sound systems for people who are longing for words of good news. We have water fountains that can be streams of living water for those thirsting for justice. We can hit the reset button, and renew our commitment to listening for the voices of those long silenced.

We can follow Martin Luther King, Jr.'s dream-as well as his plan.