I got news today from Every Neighborhood Partnership (ENP) staff and Christian Community Development Board member Christian Gonzalez that I knew was coming, but was no-the-less saddened to hear…Dr. John M. Perkins has died.

For those who knew him, for those who have sat under his teaching or been influenced by the myriad of leaders, songs, and movements he has inspired (in Fresno and around the world), you feel the sadness and the impact. But what I am most grateful for is that I got to sit under his teaching, meeting him several times and watch a movement move outside of a person. 

John Perkins was more than an evangelist, civil rights activist, and an author…He re-mapped the American Gospel, moving it away from a purely individualistic “ticket to heaven” and back toward the dusty, incarnational streets of the neighborhood. He taught us that God doesn’t just care about “souls”—God cares about people, their housing, their health, their dignity, and their justice.

The 2008 Collision: From Missions to Movement

My own journey with Dr. Perkins began in 2008. At the time, I was the Missions Director at The Well Community Church. I was brand new to the work, and my vision or direction could have gone down many different paths. I was a bit of a blank slate, looking for a way to make sense of the “missions” world.

My brother Bryan told me about a “really good” conference I should attend: the Christian Community Development Association (CCDA) National Conference. Bryan was living in a ministry house at the time called the Pink House, started by Dr. Randy White and InterVarsity to embody John’s principles.

I walked into that space and was absolutely blown away. For the first time, I heard a Jesus-centered, incarnational philosophy of ministry that addressed the systemic brokenness I saw but couldn’t name. CCDA gave me the vocabulary of the “8 Key Components.” These weren’t just strategies; they were a manifesto for living as a neighbor. They were built on the “3 R’s” that John Perkins made famous: Relocation, Reconciliation, and Redistribution.

I realized that the Gospel wasn’t just about saving people out of their neighborhoods; it was about meeting God by moving into the neighborhood. As John would often say, “Incarnation is the Gospel.”

The Fresno Fire: A Movement Takes Hold

John Perkins didn’t just influence individuals; he launched a movement that Fresno got caught up in. We are a city with deep beauty and deep pain, and John’s vision found fertile soil here in the 90s.

I think of the video from the No Name Fellowship (2013), which captures the early spark of this fire. But a movement only survives if there are local “stewards of the vision.” In Fresno, we were blessed with giants who took John’s philosophy and gave it hands and feet in our specific context.

Because of leaders like H Spees, Randy White, Dina Gonzalez-Pina, and so many others, the CCD (Christian Community Development) movement didn’t just pass through Fresno—it took hold of us. They, along with folks like Phil and Rici Skei, Barb Fiske, and Nancy Donat, didn’t just read John’s books; they lived them. They moved into the neighborhoods others were trying to leave. They saw the “poor and vulnerable” not as projects to be fixed, but as brothers and sisters to be loved and learned from.

Grace and I sat down and had a conversation with bridge-builder and former CCDA Board member Dina Gonzalez-Pina reminding us that transformation is inseparable from the voices of those within the community (listen here). Through her leadership and the work of many others, Fresno became a hub for this radical way of life. The work we do now at Every Neighborhood Partnership is directly descended from the very foundation John Perkins laid. We exist because John dared to believe that “making neighborhoods whole” was a biblical mandate.

A Pilgrimage to the Living Room

A few years ago, I had the distinct honor of joining a “Justice Pilgrimage” to the South, organized by John’s daughter, Elizabeth Perkins. It was a journey into the heart of the struggle—Birmingham, Selma, Montgomery, and Mendenhall.

The highlight, though, wasn’t a museum or a monument. It was sitting in John Perkins’ living room at the age of 92. He was tired, his body was failing, but his spirit was as sharp as a diamond.

I remember the “Perkinsisms” that filled the air—nuggets of wisdom that sounded simple but were devastatingly profound:

  • “Justice is doing what is right across the board under God’s authority.”
  • “It isn’t social justice; it is complete justice.”
  • “If the church could stop creating ghettos, we could do something.”
  • “Everything is about the money.”

Sitting there, I realized that John’s theology wasn’t born in a library; it was born in a jail cell in Brandon, Mississippi, where he was tortured by white law enforcement. It was born in the fields where he labored as a sharecropper. His faith wasn’t a theory; it was a survival strategy that had been refined into a philosophy of radical love.

Radical Racial Reconciliation and Enemy Love

Perhaps the most transformative part of John’s legacy in my life is his insistence on Enemy Love.

In an era of deep polarization, John Perkins stood as a reminder that you cannot have true justice without reconciliation. But he was also clear: you cannot have reconciliation without truth. He taught us that racism is a faith—a form of idolatry—and that the only way to break its power is through a superior faith in the “Beloved Community.”

Through John, I learned that cross-cultural experiences are hard because they require a “crucifixion of the heart and self.” You have to die to your own privilege, your own “expert” status, and your own comfort.

I’ve written before about “the privilege I never knew I had” and the need to “uproot yourself” to bloom where God actually wants you. Those reflections were directly birthed from the struggle of trying to live out John’s vision. He forced me to see myself as both a sinner in need of grace and a participant in systems that need dismantling.

The Myth of the Hero

John’s life forced me to confront a difficult question: Why do we always try to be the heroes in someone else’s story? We want to believe we are the “chosen ones” in a promised land, but the history of the Black Church in America reminds us that for many, this land has felt more like a place of exile. John called us to recognize the “idols” of our age—money, power, and racial division—and to resist them. He didn’t want us to just fit into society; he wanted us to transform it through “Enemy Love.” He believed that if we loved our neighbors and our enemies with enough grit, the very structures of injustice would eventually give way.

The Legacy at Every Neighborhood Partnership

As I reflect on John’s death, I look at the work we are doing at ENP. We are trying to weave these thoughts into the very fabric of our city.

We are committed to:

  • Incarnational Presence: Being truly with the neighborhood, not just for it.
  • Listening as an Act of Faith: As Elizabeth Perkins told us, “Ignorance is curable, arrogance is not.” We have to be learners before we can be leaders.
  • Complete Justice: Seeing the health of the neighborhood as a reflection of our own spiritual health.

    John once said, “God is love. Love is God.” It sounds simple until you try to love someone who hates you, or until you try to love a neighborhood that the rest of the world has forgotten. Then, it becomes the hardest work in the world.

    A Final Word on the Struggle

    John Perkins is gone, but the “Impossible Possibility” of the Beloved Community remains.

    I am left with the words of Pastor Phil Reed from our pilgrimage: “Cross-cultural experiences are hard because they require crucifixion.” If we want to see Fresno transformed, if we want to see our neighborhoods made whole, we have to be willing to let our old ways of doing “missions” die.

    John’s life was a long obedience in the same direction. He showed us that sorrow and joy get deeper as you age, and that the “joy set before him” allowed him to endure the crosses of the Jim Crow South and the apathy of the modern church.

    To my mentor, my brother, and our “Grandfather of the movement”: Thank you, Dr. Perkins. Thank you for not giving up on us. Thank you for teaching us that the Gospel has a zip code, and that God is already there, waiting for us to show up and join the work.

    We will keep walking the Edmund Pettus Bridges of our own lives. We will keep moving into the neighborhoods. We will keep fighting the “final fight” of love.

    To stay connected with the local CCD movement and join our upcoming gatherings, follow the CCD Collective on Facebook and Instagram, or email info@everyneighborhood.org to be added to our next event invite.

    Perkins in Fresno

    Essential Reading

    If you want to understand the theology that built Every Neighborhood Partnership (ENP) and the CCDA, these are the foundational texts:

    • Let Justice Roll Down: His powerful autobiography is a must-read for anyone seeking to understand the struggle for civil rights and reconciliation.
    • Making Neighborhoods Whole: A practical handbook for Christian Community Development, co-authored with Wayne Gordon.
    • One Blood: Parting Words to the Church on Race and Love: His final “manifesto” calling the church to true biblical unity.

    Local Reflections: The Impact in Fresno

    Blog from Grace Berg on her Justice Journey in Mississippi.

    About the Movement

    The work of Every Neighborhood Partnership (ENP) is built on the 8 Key Components of Christian Community Development. We believe the Gospel is most powerful when it is incarnated—when we move into the neighborhood, listen to our neighbors, and work together for the flourishing of all.