This letter is addressed to the church for its mission faces the ground rather than the heavens. To the elected people for greed is an infection easily caught but rarely cured. And to my brothers and sisters for I tell you that love has moved into the neighborhood.
Comfortable is a sickness easily caught.
We stay inside our million dollar walls telling ourselves that the problems people face in countries around the world is out of our hands.
And already we’ve made a crucial mistake
Why do we build walls between our brothers and sisters and ourselves?
Are we afraid that color of their skin may cause us to be tainted in the eyes of the creator?
Why do we look across the sanctuary and begin condemning our brothers and sisters, labeling them unholy, as we are trying on the shoes that only God can fill.
Who are we to say that others are unworthy of the eternal love to we were gifted while we were still sinning?
As if somehow blasphemy is not a sin all its own
As if my broken pieces cannot be used to construct something beautiful
As if all of my love for God escapes through the extra holes in my ears
And the ink beneath my skin makes me tainted before the perfect creator of all that is imperfect
What we defined as different, He first defined as unique
What we defined as a lost cause, He first defined as a faithful servant
What we defined as Homosexual, He first defined as Son and Daughter
By the rules of this world, not a single man, women , or child, is worthy of one cent of the treasure of heaven
However, Jesus did not come to enforce the rules of man, but to abolish them
And in their place, create the rules of Heaven.
Love your enemies; no exception
Give to those in need; no exception
Blessed are those who are persecuted; no exception
But when a country is in need, we dare not give to them because they are responsible for persecuting our Christian brothers and sisters
As if our missionaries, better yet, disciples of God, did not expect it.
As if nowhere in the bible does it say that being a Christian isn’t easy?
To the elected people:
Do you honestly think that the people who elected you
People just like me
People just like you
Don’t see it?
The way you forget those in need, like it’s a bad case of amnesia.
The way you cater to the rich but abandon the poor, sweeping them under the rug of marginalization
And play it off as if your run-on sentences can’t be fixed with simple punctuation.
You see the “trickle-down” effect doesn’t permeate the impermeable.
What you call a poverty line
I call an umbrella
Keeping those under it from gathering water
I have come to see that there is no cure for your infection
As human nature is a greedy business.
To my brothers and sisters:
The water that trickles down is no more than leftover condensation dripping out of the exhaust of a real American machine
This is not anarchism
As I believe in a system
A new system whose named is carved into the streets of every slum, favela, and ghetto around the world