From Check Points to Check Ins: A Gasp for Global Solidarity

Approaching the chapel, I see police.

I wasn’t as shocked this time because I came yesterday and after an initial inquiry by an officer, I was asked if I was there for a class.

Instinctually, part of me wanted to just say what I needed to get through. As if I needed to justify and explain why I was entering into a space that was for me.

But ultimately I was deterred. The longer I stood there, the greater the risk of things falling out of my favor. I am still a Black man in America. It was as if some inner clock was ticking and something told me, my time was up.

Call this capacity a grace, a discernment. Or consider it a curse, a consequence of brutality on Black bodies that’s diminishes our patience for police.

I was triggered. My mind was seemingly motioned back to last November, as I took a weeklong pilgrimage to Israel/ Palestine for the first time. I’m still struck by how close the conditions of occupied Palestine are to these “yet to be United States” (word to Maya Angelou).

This confrontation was familiar.

As our delegation journeyed to Jerusalem, we approached to the Al-Aqsa Mosque, waiting as our guide spoke with the IDF (Israel Defense Forces) on our behalf. We stood steps away from the entrance as locals loitered, some gaining entry, others rejected. But as with many encounters with the IDF, my attention was arrested by the weapons they wielded. These elongated and extended guns that do as much damage to the psyche as they could to the body.

This place of worship we learned was gatekept from many of the locals. I’m not even Muslim, but my heart broke for those brothers and sisters who were restricted from the very spaces they hold sacred in their own land.

Yet there I was and here I am in Atlanta, a new day, a new mercy. An opportunity to decide otherwise. I glanced in the direction of Canon Chapel, took a step in the opposite direction, then I remembered. Yesterday I walked away disturbed, but today something stirred differently in my spirit.

I can just walk away. This is my home. To walk away was forsake my fellow brothers and sisters abroad who have no agency to move about. I will not forsake them, I will not forget what I have seen. To turn now would feel like a miscare of the very freedoms I possess. So I turned around and moved towards the door. I inquired, signed in, checked my bag, and did whatever was needed to do to enter.  I was going in because I was entitled to this space. This is my home.

I said yes to showing up in solidarity for those whose movement remains restricted by a geonocidal regime (sadly backed by my country) that continues to regulate and eliminate Palestinian life. I’ve experienced firsthand the “security” checkpoints, the being pulled over, having to identify yourself and endure harassment. Our struggles cross both countries and cultures, which is why we must be unified. Dr. King said it best from a Birmingham jail, that “Injustice anywhere is a threat to justice everywhere”.

The checkpoints have arrived. “For your safety” we are told. But we must wonder what is the real threat at work?

By no means do I want to diminish the reality of real and ruthless evils that prowl even places of holy worship. But I do challenge us to not be numb to the ways in which structures of oppression are being replicated and perpetuated across boarders.

Are we safeguarding the word of truth or are we safeguarding our image? Are we protecting people and defending just principles or is this just pageantry?

I came to chapel for worship.

Dr. Matthew Taylor’s message was powerfully pointed and prophetic. The stakes are high during this time.

I close in hope with the moving words of the final song we sang together in chapel by Peter Scholtes:

“We are one in the Spirit, we are one in the Lord;

We are one int he Spirit, we are one in the Lord;

And we pray that all unity will one day be restored.

And they'll know we are Christians by our love, by our love,

yes, they'll know we are Christians by our love.

We will walk with each other, we will walk hand in hand;

We will walk with each other, we will walk hand in hand;

And together we'll spread the news that God is in our land.

We Will work with each other, we will work side by side;

We will work with each other, we will work side by side;

And we'll guard each man's dignity and save each man's pride.

All praise to the Father, from whom all things come;

And all praise to Christ Jesus, His only Son.

And all praise to the Spirit who makes us one.”

The News That Keeps Us Broken

There are many ways to get your morning news. With notifications just waiting on our phones to greet us, I've learned to be cautious about what reaches me first. Thus, I like to wake up and begin my day with a devotional prayer and reading the bible. Often, this comes after I muster the strength to get up, brush my teeth, and rid myself of the stench of sleepy breath. Good thing God isn't offended and listens even when my breath does stank. Don't judge me :)

At times I'm more of a give me the good news first typa of guy. It's disarming in a way, to the bad news, not that the reality of it is any different, but the degree to which I allow it to impact me shifts. But today I wonder about what we deem as bad news, or at least the most relevant news. As I entered the elevator of my apartment this morning, I came across the following image:

Taylor Takes the Win Again

Star Power Continues to Prosper

Among the 4-5 images and captions they could've shared this morning were both "The End of an Eras tour approaches, making a bittersweet moment for Taylor Swift fans" and "LeBron James misses1st game this season, sidelined versus Portland due to left foot soreness".

I thougth to myself, this is why I'm so numb and namely ignorant to what's going on around me.

What did I learn from this? I learned that LeBron did not play last night. I learned when I was much younger that when someone doesn't play, that means another person takes their spot. I was often that eager boy on the bench waiting to be put in.

So many people could've played last night:

They could've played the clip of Syrians searching for their relatives in Saydanya prison.

They could've played updates on South Korea and reported the consequences of a country's President decreeing Martial Law.

They could've picked from 40,000 Ukranian soldiers who have been killed as a result of the Russian invasion.

They could've played the 45,000 Russian casualties suffered in November alone. They coudlv'e told told the truth about the numbers and how you never really know. They coudl've talked about the wages a country pays for war.

They could've talked about the bodies still buyant from a capsized boat in Egypt's Red Sea coast.

They could've listed the lives lost after landslides buried homes in Uganda.

They could've played the picture of Jahnay Bryan who's still missing.

They could've played Palestine and showcased the Israeli airstrikes, and the endless suffering going on in Gaza.

They could've played the hundreds of thousands of people whose health care is not being covered.

They could've replayed the fact that Brian Thompson is no longer breathing and his killer is still on the loose.

They could've played Israel Maldonado, a 14-year-old boy shot to death in Chicago.

Someone was supposed to take LeBron's spot.

I'll be the first to say, that solely hearing about death is daunting. But the reality is that people are dying by human hands daily. Our numbnes and fatigue to the reality of what's going on will not protect us nor will it change the truth. I believe the news, like life must be balanced. But balance is a privilege many people do not have. When you're living inside of a nightmore it's hard to tell someone to simply wake up. This is not a dream. As Americans, as a global power, as one of the world's biggest bullies, we have a responsibility to reckon with what is taking place internationally and domestically. The danger lies in living like what we do doesn't have an impact on those around us.

I'm not mad at LeBron, I'm mad at the media. The frustration is with the way we, as a country, curate concern. It's disheartening how easily we erase the effects of oppression. But through it all, I remain encouraged that there are those of us who will press beyond the veneers, who will demand justice for all, who will use our voices for good, and who know that what's going on is not merely a physical feat but a spiritual one. I pray fervently for peace and my faith inclines me to act in accordance as a peacemaker. I'm talking about a restorative shalom peace offered by the Prince of Peace. In the words of my brother Ra'Daniel Arvie, there is a greater peace that is more than the absence of conflict but it is one of wholeness, completeness, and fullness of well-being".

So, during this Advent season, as we celebrate the arrival of our savior Jesus Christ, let us reflect on what it means for us to be delivered. I must wonder why we are delivered from evil, from the selfish and sinful parts of ourselves, and ultimately from the conseunces of death [Ephesians 2:1-2].

So during this time I will as Psalm 27:14 says:

Wait for the Lord;

be strong, and let your heart

be courageous.

Wait for the Lord.

While we wait, let us be strong. While we wait, let us give allowance to humility working through us; a humility that discerns when to remain silent and when it is time to speak, a humility that is concerned with all of creation and not just ourselves.

Praise Breaks: On Lyrics & Lessons

There is of course a certain demeanor and disposition the 4th quarter invokes. Today marks the commencement of clutch time, where we've seen the schemes of the opposing team, we've made our efforts to achieve, and now the crowd is on their feet cheering and praising as we press on towards the mark.

Our work no matter the profession or capacity, has an underlying function, to give God praise. The fundamental premise is something that slips so easily from my mind in the midst of the many assignments and tasks that grab at my attention on a given day.

Now reading the bible for class is a difficult task. I find myself as I attempt to engage any assigned text, reading ever so carefully. This means examining the context [authorship, construction, literary form] reading the commentary, cross-referencing scriptures, and everything else that goes into a more well-rounded understanding of the text in front of me. This also means getting through a single page let alone the full text, takes time it feels like I simply do not have.

I do what I can because I care and refuse to cheat the opportunity. In the same breath, I recognize that if I do all that is assigned, for all my classes, I will be a gold-star student on paper an impoverished human in practice.

Any student out there can empathize with having an enormous amount of work assigned and falling short of what's expected according to the syllabus.

Romans 12:2 (NIV)

Do not conform to the pattern of this world, but be transformed by the renewing of your mind. Then you will be able to test and approve what God’s will is—his good, pleasing and perfect will.

In a place like school, how might this scripture apply? Simply put, there is an underlying task in finding alignment in our assignments.

It starts by pausing to pose the question to God: How are you trying to use what’s in front of me to bring something out of me?

To transform amidst the patterns we perceive is only possible through breakage. When we are transformed, we part from the prevailing standards of acceptability and cast our concern unto a higher will, God's will. This is not to infer that everything before us on Earth is inherently counter to God's will, but often the proposed patterns of operation can be quite contentious. For example, a class may require you to read an entire book within a 2-3 day time span before the next class, according to the syllabus. To be concerned with God's good, pleasing, and perfect will is to be concerned with the spirit of our efforts. The transformative tweak is made when we begin to ask how should we engage. With what spirit and posture do I decide to approach the text, my classes, and my classmates? The question is whose will are you working for? This way, we are not defeated in the face of incompletion, but all the while enhanced. We are reminded that our works no matter, how imperfect or unpolished find true completion in rest.

Surely I'm not claiming to have solved this issue, but I am learning gradually how to ease the tension. In doing so:

I'm learning not to expect my professors to be the sole source of knowledge.

I'm learning that I don't have to accept everything that's offered to me.

I'm learning the danger of studying God and not seeking God.

I'm learning when to say "absolutely not" and go hoop.

I'm learning that falling short is a part of striving.

I'm learning how to not blame others for my shortcomings, but to respond with greater agency.

I'm learning to challenge my assumptions.

I'm learning to appreciate correction.

Prayer of Preparation

To God who sees both,

beyond my sight

and into my situation.

I thank you for the privilege to ponder your perfect will and walk according to it. I ask that you would lead me as I look upon this text/journey upon this task. Holy Spirit grant way to truth and transformation. I surrender my academic/professional life unto you. I make room for you to speak, Interrupt, disrupt, edify, and illuminate. Bless this moment: the restful moments, the prayerful moments, the reflective moments. I thank you for divine assurances of renewal, asking these things in the name of Jesus, Amen!

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Tuesdays are the busiest: 3 classes, chapel, and choir practice.

That's right, I joined a choir! Ok, the tea is, I didn't have to try out, we love an open invitation!

We also know how precious time is in school. An hour of practice time is a block that could be used for eating, working, shooting the breeze, or even a nap between classes. But after the Chapel service concludes, choir practice commences. We praise.

We praise God amidst many assignments and classes,

waiting around the corner.

We praise amidst natural disasters

and surrounding devastation.

We praise amidst political uncertainty.

We praise while discerning our call to serve

and stand on the side of justice.

We praise alongside peers,

lifting Candler voices unto the Holy One.

We empty our praise in exchange for a better day.

Praise breaks

burdens,

and heals the broken's

unspoken prayers.

We praise em' like we just don't care!

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If there was any day to break routine it would be today, as I considered all that is assigned and before me. There's a young adult church service I attend weekly, and this week in particular I wasn't feeling it, but I gave someone my word that I'll give them a ride, and since it would be their first time attending I didn't want to cancel. We made it to service, but this wasn't just any service it was a worship service.

Now you're telling me I came all the way out here "just to sing". That's the problem wit me and this religiosity, too caught up in the motions! I needed to praise. Now I can't lie, I wanted a "word", as in a sermon, as in to be seated, as in to be an observer, not a participant. Can I be real? This was not what I was expecting. But the night kept rolling on and after the 3rd song, I realized there were a bunch more coming. I surrendered, slowly, singing, and praising God's name. The Spirit of the Lord was palpable from the first song, the tone was set. We were gonna have a good time.

As we neared the end of our worship experience, I felt I felt these words come on my spirit, "that don't sound like victory". My singing was slightly shallow in its texture but real. Then the song Firm Foundation [by Chandler Moore, Maverick City Music, and Naomi Raine] came on.

"Christ is my firm foundation

The rock on which I stand

When everything around me is shaken

 I've never been more glad

....... I've still got joy in chaos

I've got peace that makes no sense

And I won't be going under

I'm not held by my own strength

'Cause I built my life on Jesus

He's never let me down

He's faithful in every season

So why would He fail now?

He won't"

I felt God saying praise me until you realize who's won the victory. So I sang with all my soul and finally found my breakthrough. This praise tonight was truly sacrificial. It's easy to praise with an open schedule and an open heart. But to praise God when we're down and just don't feel like it, that typa praise can feel so expensive. But true worship is costly and it's worth it.

Romans 12:1 (NIV)

Therefore, I urge you, brothers and sisters, in view of God’s mercy, to offer your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and pleasing to God—this is your true and proper worship.