Monday, March 28, 2016
A Reason to Sing
On Saturday, we traveled north up to Memphis for the day. After a three hour car ride consisting of snacks and games to keep us entertained, we made our first stop at the Slave Haven, or Jacob Burkle's house. Jacob Burkle left Germany during the German Revolution and moved to Memphis. He bought a huge house so that we he could appear as a slave owner, but he was secretly helping slaves get on the Underground Railroad. The house was filled with secret tunnels and passageways for runaway slaves to enter into the house. We learned about different signs one would find on the Underground Railroad, like quilts hanging from clothes lines or lamps in the windows that would signify whether or not it was safe to travel or not. As we were exploring the house, I started to feel frustrated. Though I am so grateful for people like Jacob Burkle who would put their lives at risk in order to do what's right and just, I started to feel frustrated. Why would God let his children suffer so brutally for so long? If God was just, why did he let oppression, violence, and prejudice plague our world?
When the pieces seem too shattered
To gather off the floor
And all that really matters
Is that I can't feel You anymore
Is that I don't feel You anymore
After our tour at the Slave Haven, we drove down a few blocks to the National Civil Rights History Museum, which was built into the Lorraine Motel, the place where Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated. I became even more astonished, dishearten, and angry. Why would God allow peaceful people asking for justice, equality, and the guarantee of their rights be beaten, attacked, and killed? Martin Luther King Jr. was a peaceful man, who only responded to hate with love. When I was looking into his hotel room and outside onto the balcony where he died, I was overcome by sadness and became disheartened. I couldn't understand why a man who was doing the Lord's will and seeking to further the Kingdom of God was murdered.
I need a reason to sing
I need a reason to sing
I need to know that You're still holding
The whole world in Your hands
I remember learning a story about Martin Luther King Jr. when I was little about how a group of men threw rocks at his windows in his house.
King's friends said to him, "We need to do something. They can't get away with this." It would have been so easy to seek vengeance. If you, your family, and your ancestors had been enslaved, literally or virtually, why wouldn't you want to seek revenge?
King responded to his friends, "We must show love and care to our white brothers."
King's peaceful response toward violence, harassment, and hate reminds me so much of John Perkins. Every day that we've been here, Dr. Perkins tells us that the only way to bring reconciliation to people is to be reconciled to God. We need the truth of the Gospel that sets us free, then we can come together and enter into each other's pain. We can show compassion to one another. We can listen to one another. We can suffer with them. We can love them.
Will there be a victory?
Will You sing it over me now?
Your peace is the melody
Will You sing it over me now?
Sin will always be in the world. It's been here since the Garden of Eden, and it will be here until Jesus returns. There will always be hate. There will always be prejudice. There will always be violence. But as Dr. Perkins said to us, we need to make the solution bigger than the problem. If we make love louder than the sound of injustice, we will find shalom and righteousness. When we enter into the pain of our brothers and sisters and suffer with them, redemption can begin.
At the end of our touring and we were sitting at the dinner table, I looked around the table surrounded by my team. We had grown so much closer in the past few days. Laughter and smiles were worn all around the table, and there was a spirit of love and community in the air. After a day of sadness and frustration, it was that simple reminder that brought peace and restoration to my soul. This is how the church is supposed to be. Coming together as one body to support, encourage, and edify each other. If we do this, we will see justice. We will see righteous. We will see shalom. We will see love.
"But let justice roll on like a river,
righteousness like a never-failing stream." - Amos 5:24
When the pieces seem too shattered
To gather off the floor
And all that really matters
Is that I can't feel You anymore
Is that I don't feel You anymore
After our tour at the Slave Haven, we drove down a few blocks to the National Civil Rights History Museum, which was built into the Lorraine Motel, the place where Martin Luther King Jr. was assassinated. I became even more astonished, dishearten, and angry. Why would God allow peaceful people asking for justice, equality, and the guarantee of their rights be beaten, attacked, and killed? Martin Luther King Jr. was a peaceful man, who only responded to hate with love. When I was looking into his hotel room and outside onto the balcony where he died, I was overcome by sadness and became disheartened. I couldn't understand why a man who was doing the Lord's will and seeking to further the Kingdom of God was murdered.
I need a reason to sing
I need a reason to sing
I need to know that You're still holding
The whole world in Your hands
I remember learning a story about Martin Luther King Jr. when I was little about how a group of men threw rocks at his windows in his house.
King's friends said to him, "We need to do something. They can't get away with this." It would have been so easy to seek vengeance. If you, your family, and your ancestors had been enslaved, literally or virtually, why wouldn't you want to seek revenge?
King responded to his friends, "We must show love and care to our white brothers."
King's peaceful response toward violence, harassment, and hate reminds me so much of John Perkins. Every day that we've been here, Dr. Perkins tells us that the only way to bring reconciliation to people is to be reconciled to God. We need the truth of the Gospel that sets us free, then we can come together and enter into each other's pain. We can show compassion to one another. We can listen to one another. We can suffer with them. We can love them.
Will there be a victory?
Will You sing it over me now?
Your peace is the melody
Will You sing it over me now?
Sin will always be in the world. It's been here since the Garden of Eden, and it will be here until Jesus returns. There will always be hate. There will always be prejudice. There will always be violence. But as Dr. Perkins said to us, we need to make the solution bigger than the problem. If we make love louder than the sound of injustice, we will find shalom and righteousness. When we enter into the pain of our brothers and sisters and suffer with them, redemption can begin.
At the end of our touring and we were sitting at the dinner table, I looked around the table surrounded by my team. We had grown so much closer in the past few days. Laughter and smiles were worn all around the table, and there was a spirit of love and community in the air. After a day of sadness and frustration, it was that simple reminder that brought peace and restoration to my soul. This is how the church is supposed to be. Coming together as one body to support, encourage, and edify each other. If we do this, we will see justice. We will see righteous. We will see shalom. We will see love.
"But let justice roll on like a river,
righteousness like a never-failing stream." - Amos 5:24
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