tears

an epitaph for justice

hometown prophet

I never fully understood what Jesus meant – that following him would mean that I would lose friends, family, home. Growing up in self-proclaimed Christian conclaves, I heard the repeated siren: beware the wolf in sheep’s clothing! And so I joined the guard, militantly watching the borders for the outsider that dare try to sneak in. “The thief comes to kill, steal, and destroy.” But, I never looked inside the borders.

As I have grown closer to my Lord and sought to follow Him more fully, I have grown in horror to the world from which I have come. The simplicity and allure of that world is still tempting – whitewashed facades of happiness, endless CCM on repeat, dazzling lights and hopeful words of the world to come. But beneath it all, the good news sold salvation that allowed for exploitative consumerism, fear of the other, the death of innocents by drone strike or police brutality or murderers with unfettered access to weapons of mass casualties. To be sure, not all of it was fake; but then, neither is a wolf in sheep’s clothing.

I had a sense from early on that I was called to be a prophet, yet it was unclear to whom I was to speak. Now, more abundantly than ever, I see that it is within the self-declared borders that I am calling for repentance. “Prophets are not without honor, except in their hometown, and among their own kin, and in their own house.”

My brothers and sisters whom I so dearly love. Turn yourself wholly to our self-giving, all-loving triune God, I beg of you. I pray for you.