There are mothers, like Mary, who cradle their sons at night while fearing that their boys are destined to die. How do we minister hope in a world that disproportionately robs black and brown mothers of a lifetime with their sons?
As I close my Lenten devotional series, my prayer is for all those individual and collective hopes and dreams that have died an early death or have been killed with harsh words, lack of support, or lack of resources. Let those dreams and desires arise anew in you. Risen, indeed!
Many of us spend quite a bit of our time in this liminal space that Holy Saturday represents: struggling with doubt, struggling with hell on earth, and struggling with work insistent and yet unfinished.
And while we can acknowledge that this particular Friday is “good,” in remembrance of the life of Jesus, this day also marks a horrific, unjust, and violent death of an innocent man. On this day, the cross and the lynching tree both speak.
Are our songs of praise and adoration only for the rich and the powerful? Is our respect and admiration only for the well-connected? Are offers of rehabilitation and restoration only for the affluent and comfortable?
Injustice should cause us to tremble; indifference should cause us to tremble; racism should cause us to tremble; complacency should cause us to tremble; justice delayed should cause us to tremble, tremble. Were you there? And will you show up?
I am a follower of Jesus not only because of the work of the Cross, but also because of the life he lived before the Cross. May we spend our lives doing what Jesus modeled for us in life: fighting the forces that diminish, dehumanize, and destroy the least and the lost.