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We Need A Ladder

T hese times are  so painfully difficult. In my almost 62 years, I had never seen a person use  a part of his body  to kill another person. Knees are for prayer not murder. How do we get out of this deep hole initially dug 400 years ago? It was deepened as its walls were reinforced  by each subsequent privileged generation taking great pride in asking, "How low can we go?" It appears to be a bottomless pit with a stench from four centuries of dehumanization - a stench worst than the bowels of the ships used in the Middle Passage - a deathly stench offering only an olfactory assault denied by  the pretenders . When do they choose to work with us to build a ladder strong and secure to bring each of us to a new level ground with an abundance of sunlight and fresh air?
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When You Say, "I'm Not Racist"

When you say,  "I'm not racist," you deny the complexity of a system built on the racist ideas born of white supremacy. When you say,  "I don't see color," you do not understand that making judgements based on color is the problem, not seeing color.  When you say,  "I was taught to treat everyone the same," you deny the limitations of your being kind when the system denies my dignity. When you say,  "But, I'm a Christian," you deny the whitening of Jesus' body and the distortion of his Gospel for economic gain through the genocide of indigenous people, the enslavement of Africans, and other atrocities against people of color. When you say,  "My child is Black," you conflate your love for one person with a love for all. When you say,  "My family never enslaved people" you deny how the injustices of slavery were transformed to perpetuate your illusion of white supremacy. Wh...
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The Legacy of Their Names

The soil of Turtle Island is forever drenched with the innocent blood  of its first inhabitants - men, women and children  who had their humanity denied. In right relationship  with the Creator and creation, the First Nations were considered obstacles  to your insatiable greed. The God you trusted to bring you safely across the Atlantic was too small for this new life. Putting aside  loving  your neighbor as yourself, you chose to worship at the tarnished altar of the golden calf. A bounty of unfamiliar  natural resources  were no more than  tools  for personal wealth as you coveted ownership instead of stewardship. Walking this land  from time immemorial, you found their presence to warrant a litany of broken promises, infected blankets, and genocide. In spite of you, some survived only  to be denied access  to their ancestral lands before being forced to walk the Trail of Tears - their own via dolorosa. We hear echoes of...
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