By Rev. Canon Carla Robinson

Atlanta, Auburn Avenue AKA Sweet Auburn Street. We walked this street, once the heart of Atlanta’s black community, it still carries that weight as I looked at the buildings and heard the stories of the neighborhood. It’s a complex history. Big Bethel AME Church, Atlanta Life, The Peacock Club, The Atlanta Daily World Newspaper, Cox Mortuary, Citizens Bank—just a few of the black businesses and institutions on this famous street. The famous names: Herdon, Jackson, Lewis, Baker and so many more walked these streets, built community and made history.

Out of this community came Dr King. He was the product of a community rich in the web of its connectivity. He was shaped by this stew of broad based, grassroots leadership. So it was fitting that after seeing this community we arrived at the King Center for Racial Justice.

I love the fact that the center is right here on Auburn Street at the cradle that brought Dr. King because he did not drop from the sky. He came from a community. A community that raised him to love God, to love the community and love Justice.

We visited Ebenezer Baptist Church, and I was struck by how small it is. I expected a huge church but the historic church is not huge. It has been preserved as a museum piece while the active congregation worships nearby. Our guide was an accomplished storyteller. He shared the King family legacy well.

Standing in the place where Dr King preached was an awesome and humbling experience. From the beginning of my sense of call, Dr King was my inspiration. However standing in Ebenezer I felt completely inadequate as a preacher. To my job. I felt a nagging question rise inside me: “You call yourself a preacher?” But I still do have the call. I still must preach. I still must bear witness, even though I’m no Martin Luther King Jr. I walked around the whole neighborhood in silence. I have so much yet to learn and do as a preacher. Spending time at the King Center has made that fact clear.