The April 7, 2008, issue of TIME devotes a full page to Martin Luther King with an article titled “The Burdens of Martyrdom.” Georgetown University professor Michael Eric Dyson points out how the years have transformed Dr. King from the three-dimensional man that he was into some kind of card-board saint. The change has not been complimentary to the man nor good for the country.

In his prime–that would be the 1950s and 1960s; he was assassinated in 1968–Dr. King was the most controversial figure in America. Dyson says that in the years just prior to his death, King was left off the Gallup-poll list of the 10 most admired Americans, financial support for his work dried up, editors across America vilified him for his position on the Vietnam war, universities withdrew speaking invitations, and publishers shied away from printing his books.

Now, fast forward four decades. These days, if one didn’t know better, he would think that Martin Luther King was continually loved and revered, that he was always thought of as another Mother Teresa, and that he was, in Dyson’s phrase, “a toothless tiger.” People have forgotten “just how much heat and hate the thought of King could whip up.”

Today, Dyson says, “many whites want him clawless; many blacks want him flawless.” He concludes, “We must keep him fully human, warts and all.”

As I read that, I kept thinking of something the New Testament says about the nature of prophethood. One of the first deacons, Stephen–who is generally accorded the position as the very first Christian martyr–was on trial for his life before the Jewish council and was invited to defend himself.

Since Stephen’s audience was well familiar with the Old Testament narrative, he points them to the patriarchs, those revered father-figures who established the Hebrew nation, and who had been honored by every generation since. He began with Abraham, then moved on to Isaac, Jacob, and Joseph. Each had difficult assignments and served God faithfully with precious little encouragement from others around him.

But mostly, Stephen talked about Moses, the deliverer of their people by God’s hand. He was a great man, Stephen said, “learned in all the wisdom of the Egyptians, and mighty in word and deed.” (Acts 7:22)

One would think, Stephen said, that everyone appreciated what Moses was doing for them and the price he paid, but “they did not understand.” (7:25) “This Moses they rejected.” (7:35) “Whom our fathers would not obey, but rejected.” (7:39) “In their hearts, they turned back to Egypt.” (7:39)

Then, Stephen came to his point, the moment in his defense when he skewered his critics and judges.

“You stiff-necked and uncircumcised in heart and ears! You always resist the Holy Spirit; as your fathers did, so do you. Which of the prophets did your fathers not persecute?”

That, by the way, is no way to win over your judges. An hour later, they stoned Stephen to death.

The nature of prophethood is that one is vilified in life and sanctified in death. Martin Luther King is gone now, making it safe for mayors and governors to honor him with anniversaries and give him his own holiday and for preachers to wax prophetic about our nation’s debt to this visionary brother.

Bible students will recall how the church in the wilderness praised Abraham and persecuted Moses. The church of the prophets praised Moses and persecuted Isaiah and Jeremiah. The church of Jesus’ day praised the prophets and persecuted Jesus. The church of our day praises Jesus and–if we’re not careful–harasses the very ones sent by God as the current “voice in the wilderness.”

We appreciate Dr. Dyson’s calling our attention to the disparity between the reality about Dr. King and the fantasy, but I fear it won’t change a thing. As Jesus said a prophet is given honor except in his own country, it is likewise true that a prophet receives honor except in his own lifetime.

It’s the nature of serving God in a fallen world.