
Tag: Black Lives Matter
When They Call You A Terrorist
By Tommy Airey
In our hyper-connected world, a buffet of spiritual practices abound. One immediately thinks of meditation, contemplative ecology, yoga, fasting, sabbath, jubilee, self-reflective bible study, liturgical direct action, poetry, therapy, 12-step recovery, mutual edification and confession. Now is a better time than ever for the somewhat privileged people of faith and conscience among us to fast-pass the practice of attentive listening to the front of the line. After all, Spirit moves when the marginalized and muted are given voice—those who are Women, who are Black and Brown, who are Queer, who hail from Somewhere Else. Continue reading “When They Call You A Terrorist”
The Kneeling Continues
Denasia Lawrence kneels while singing the national anthem before the Heat-76ers preseason game on Friday night, revealing a shirt with the phrase “Black Lives Matter.” (Photo credit: Jasen Vinlove/USA TODAY Sports)

The Ferguson Declaration: A Black Lives Matter Creed
From Rodney Thomas, Pierre Keys, and Friends–originally posted at The Christian Century:
We, the heirs of Black Churches and their traditions, in the Spirit of the Prophets, the Apostles, and the Early Church
1.1 We believe in God Our Creator and the Father, the Maker of Heaven and Earth, the Source and Fountain of Love (1st John 4: 8) who loves all people from every tribe and nation and who is the same God who appoints seasons of justice and peacemaking (Ecclesiastes 3:1-8). Continue reading “The Ferguson Declaration: A Black Lives Matter Creed”
Guns
By Joyce Hollyday
I learned about the power of guns when I was nine years old. I had a red felt cowgirl hat that tightened with a white cord under my chin, a holster made of stamped fake leather, and two toy metal six-shooters. When I waved them around shouting “Bang, bang!” I imagined myself out in The Wild West among the saloon owners and cattle rustlers I saw on TV—someplace like Texas. Continue reading “Guns”
Silence

By Lydia Wylie-Kellermann
An attempt to grasp for words when it feels like there aren’t any.
I’ve never seen
A gun.
never
up close
In my face.
Never seen one drawn
In threat
Or aim
Or play
Or hunt
Never heard the trigger
Or felt the fear.
It is my privilege upon privilege upon privilege. Continue reading “Silence”