The Rev. Gilbert H. Caldwell is a retired United Methodist Minister who lives in Asbury Park, N.J. He was active in the Massachusetts unit of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC) and participated in the civil-rights movement throughout the nation. In 2000, he, with others, organized United Methodists of Color for a Fully Inclusive Church (UMOC), an organization committed to the full inclusion of LGBT people in every aspect of church and society.

If Martin Luther King had lived, he would have been celebrating his 79th birthday this month. But because of his assassination on April 4, 1968, in April of this year we will be acknowledging the 40th anniversary of his tragic death. What meanings in the life and legacy of Martin Luther King Jr. are appropriate for the 21st century?

The recognition that "We Are Family." It did not take a popular song with that title to encourage Dr. King to live his life dedicated to the connections and similarities that we share as members of the human family. I will never forget standing on the steps of Brown's Chapel A.M.E. Church in Selma, Ala., the gathering place for the launching of the Selma to Montgomery March. Standing next to me was a bishop of one of the major denominations of the church who said, as we looked out at the crowd, "This is one of the most diverse, ecumenical and interfaith gatherings the world has ever known." As he provided inspirational and moral leadership for the civil-rights movement, Martin Luther King understood that combating the history of cultural and legal racism required a rich diversity of people who would march and stand together on behalf of all people.

Understanding that there is a commonality about injustice, regardless of who it affects or where it takes place. He said on many occasions, "Injustice anywhere is injustice everywhere." Dr. King was in Memphis, Tenn., in support of the demands of garbage workers for equality and fairness when he was killed. This year, in addition to observing the 40th anniversary of his assassination, we will remember the 40th anniversary of the Poor People's Campaign, an effort he initiated for poor people of all races whose lives were negatively affected by their poverty. His resistance to the war in Vietnam expressed his belief that it neither served the best interests of the Vietnam or American people. I believe that if Martin Luther King Jr. were alive in 2008, he would continue to identify with the struggles of all people in their quests for justice. Coretta Scott King, his wife, in the last years before her death, publicly expressed her support for the civil rights of LGBT people. I believe, if he had lived, he would have joined her in that support.

Institutions that are intentionally inclusive reflect the best of the nation, thrive in ways that exclusive institutions cannot. Atlanta was Martin Luther King's home. He knew that if Atlanta and all of the South and the nation could include people who had traditionally been excluded, Atlanta, the South and the nation would prosper. The history since the successes of the civil-rights movement has proven that. It is impossible to calculate the economic loss that resulted from dual public-school, college and university systems that separated whites from Blacks. The economic and other gains resulting from the end of legal segregation and the traditions that have included some and excluded others are evident all over the nation. Yet I know that even as he would celebrate the many expressions of inclusion of all people, he would be dismayed by the economic, healthcare, housing and employment gaps between people of color and white people.

The diversity that is now becoming almost a fact of life in so many institutions and places in the 21st century would be applauded by Dr. King if he were here. But, following his applause, he would encourage all of us to work day in and day out to keep his dream of inclusivity alive. Fifty years ago in May of 1958, I met Martin Luther King Jr. at our graduate school alma mater, Boston University School of Theology. We who were students at the time invited him to come to the school to speak while he was in Boston for a speaking engagement. As I and other students sat with him, we could sense a commitment to all of humanity that seemed to be resident in his DNA. Since I was first exposed to his commitment, I have taken the words of New England poet Robert Frost out of context to describe our need to continue to knock down walls that separate and build bridges that connect. Frost wrote, "We have miles to go before we sleep." Martin King would remind us that this is so in our efforts to create a culture of authentic human diversity.