For more than just the cross, or sunrise services, or the Easter Bunny, this time of year is also known for something else: the reading of the most virulent biblical passages regarding anti-Semitism.
I was raised in a brown evangelical church in a small, predominantly white town in central Texas. Our “mother” church was one of the many First Baptist Churches in the Texas Bible Belt. Our congregation was composed mainly of poor, uneducated, largely undocumented migrants from rural Mexico. And while we were a brown church, the Jesus we worshiped was white.
When and where am I speaking boldly and prophetically about faith and justice, pushing the world around me to fully examine its complicity in maintaining systems of power and privilege that do repeated harm to bodies and psyches unable to protect themselves?
The truth of the matter is that we human beings are stuck in this small world that we have to share in order to survive. How can we do it successfully?
La verdad es que, como seres humanos, todas las personas del mundo estamos realmente atrapadas en este pequeño mundo que tenemos que compartir para poder sobrevivir. ¿Cómo podemos hacerlo con éxito?
It is a confusing time, but one thing is crystal clear to me: if committing an adulterous affair with a porn star, if that kind of morality and that kind of character is “completely irrelevant” to a Church that has always said exactly the opposite, there is another thing that will be “completely irrelevant” to today’s culture — and that is, sadly, the Church.
When we use our imaginations, our grief and loss have the potential to become the silent, fertile seedbed for redemptive, life-giving deeds.
The form of religion we have inherited was packaged for mass appeal. It can still be sold to the Boomers, but the Millennials aren’t buying. And that’s a blessing.
This is how the church will keep the next generation in our community: by providing them space to lead us, and join them in the revolution of peace they are working so hard to usher in to our world.