Roots: A Communal Journal

I am grateful to have grown under the loving care of two godly parents that shaped my imagination about God and his world.  Unfortunately, too many others like me grew up with other Christian pastors, teachers, friends, and mentors who taught that when things were going wrong in our lives or the lives of others—if life was not one moment of glory followed by another—there were two possible answers: either we were not doing all of the right things or we were not believing all the right things. A lack of faith, a misstep here or there, results in hardships and divine disfavor. Meanwhile, material blessing and convenience was a "sign" from God that we were walking in step with his purposes.   This conception of God has been showing up routinely in evangelical responses to the COVID pandemic.  Most people would call this superstition. It is certainly not the gospel. It’s ironic that for many like me, this kind of superstitious theology was not all t...

I have been disappointed to see so much fear mongering and hand wringing by Christians over the somewhat recent California rules , which restricts, among other things, singing and chanting in enclosed spaces, as well as larger indoor gatherings. The concern seems to be this: Christians have an scriptural obligation to gather together in the same physical space, and to sing in sufficiently large groups, even when they know that doing so poses significant risks to their communities and will likely extend the ongoing pandemic through further outbreaks. That's just stunning to me. Absolutely stunning. Certainly, the Bible teaches that we owe God our worship, and that worship often takes the form of singing. We're also not supposed to "forsake the assembly"  (Hebrews 10:25), and some have argued that refusing to meet in person is to do just that. But when we love our neighbors, when we walk the extra mile, when we become the servant of all, when we l...

I once dreamed of America, The land of the free. I longed to call it my home, The home of the brave. I dreamed that one day, My life would be like a movie. The house, the car, the yard, Full of hope; endless opportunity. I dreamed of the life that will be; Life, liberty, and the pursuit of happiness. Soon, without turning back, I dreamed of what America would be. But America never was, It never had been what we dreamed it to be. Its promise a mirage; An idea realized for just a chosen few. Its roots were rotten, Selfish greed at its core. A heart void of dignity, That saw people as opportunity. The melting pot was burning, White smoke billowing. The color of its power, That all else must cower. But yet, I see what America can be. That it may see us all as human, Black, Brown and newly American, Opportunity for us all. For we are God's creation, Holding pain and hope in tension, Justice and liberation as our call. One day, perhaps America ...