Someday, I will tell my children about what it was like to live in a time such as this. I want to be able to share that story with honesty, humility, grace, kindness, and authenticity. I want to be able to say that my eyes - and my heart - were open. I want to be able to say that I did what I could and that I helped others as I was able. I want to be able to say that I was real and didn't hide how I really felt. I want to be able to say that I watched and participated as the world come together and figured this thing out.
When you have experienced exclusion, you know the pain and you know the hurt of being outside of belonging. Inclusivity, I think, propels us forward far faster than exclusivity. For this reason, and more, whatever and wherever I end up, I will press for the inclusion of everyone. This is the work of social justice.
Changing the narrative from rejection to welcoming requires commitment, time, and resilience. There are a lot of stakes; money, leadership, opinions, and ideologies. People will disagree. People might even leave. However, the formation of the church was just like this: progressive, radical, and hinged upon what? Love. Tell me Jesus wouldn’t say the same thing.
I love a funny, good bumper sticker. Just next time you put one up, think about what you are putting out into the road, and therefore, the world.
I have found a new home, but I can’t help but wonder and ask what will happen with others. I see these street signs popping up and I don’t know what to do. The signs point to something larger, and perhaps, like old prophecy, we are left to decipher and await new meaning for what’s happening to our city, and hence, what’s happening to our people.
“Woman, why are you crying?” Mary Magdalene, outside the empty tomb of Jesus, in the Gospel of John, faces this […]
Why the formation of culture can be the key to understanding each other.