We Who Believe in Freedom Cannot Rest Until It Comes

Earlier this week I spent three days in St. Louis and Ferguson, MO with a group of pastors from the Bay Area. We have been on a journey of formation over the past nine months. We went to St. Louis to listen to and learn from those who are actively rising up against oppressive and corrupt systems undergirded by the demon of white supremacy. We went to increase our proximity to their pain so that we can better stand with them. We listened, we learned, we were challenged, we grew closer to one another, and we acted together to disrupt the systems of injustice. We were disrupted. We were formed by the courage of those rising up in St. Louis and Ferguson, challenged by the prophetic words and actions of Rika and T-Dubb-O, welcomed as brothers and sisters, and sent out to fight the powers and principalities in our own communities that would deny life to our black and brown family. We were sent out to struggle against the unjust systems that dehumanize the poor and people of color in our cities.

Hope was what I left with from St. Louis. But, despite that hope, I am troubled in my spirit with an unholy rest. On August 9th we were led by local leaders from Hands Up United in a local action to shut down the Muny in St. Louis with the simple message that black and brown people’s lives matter and unjust systems that perpetuate the oppression of black and brown people in St. Louis must be replaced with newly imagined ones that give the same freedom and opportunity to people of color. We peacefully shared this message of protest and hope by singing “We who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes” as we walked through the theatre after the intermission, while a fierce young woman unfurled a banner that read, “The Muny says Black Lives Matter.” That song and action disrupted me and is helping me to reimagine myself as a human being, husband, father, friend, pastor and citizen of Oakland. 

My whiteness and maleness afford me the privilege to rest. If I want, I can opt out and tune out the pain. In doing so I opt in to being enslaved myself by the false and unjust power of white supremacy, which tricks me into striving to maintain my place within the false racial hierarchy of our country. But, “We who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes” rings in my head confronting the lies of white supremacy. The story of Mike Brown and the Ferguson uprising ring in my head. The stories of fierce leaders like Rika, T-Dubb-O bringing programs, resources, action, imagination and hope to their neighborhoods on the Northside of St. Louis, ring in my ears.  Hands Up United’s mission to awaken people of color to claim the power of their own agency to stand and fight against the powers that oppress them, rings in my ears. The young leaders fighting for the young in their community to create spaces for them to dream and grow into their fullest potential, flash through my mind. The images of broken down buildings, vacant lots, no grocery stores and disregard for the Northside by the city of St. Louis, are tuned into my memory. The stories of police brutality that are a “normal” part of living on the Northside in St. Louis, are seared into my memory. Blatant racism like the woman who as we left the Muny said, “We gave you a black actress, what else do you want?,” challenge me to lift up my voice and sing, “Those who believe in Freedom cannot rest until it comes.” 

My theological imagination has been fueled by this trip. I have been reminded that Jesus has come to set people free. That’s what Jesus said in Luke 4:18-19, “The Spirit of the Lord is on me, because he has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor. He has sent me to proclaim freedom for the prisoners and recovery of sight for the blind, to set the oppressed free, to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.” He’s not talking about a spiritual reality or a hypothetical people. He’s talking about his neighbors, his family, his friends, his fellow Jews who are prisoners to a Roman occupation. He’s talking about the oppressed and racially profiled people of a little backwater Galilee and his hometown Nazareth. He’s talking about the poor people including himself who have been extorted to make the elite of the empire rich. He’s talking about himself who will be arrested and executed at the hands of the state. Jesus has come to proclaim good news and break chains not as a mighty king but as one of those rising up from the midst of the oppressed and imprisoned. Jesus followers believe in and fight for the freedom of the oppressed and the imprisoned, the poor and the suffering. Jesus followers sing with a loud voice and rise up with determination to not rest until freedom comes for people of color, those most exploited and oppressed by the empire. Voices from St. Louis call me to sing. Jesus calls me to sing. These freedom fighters from St. Louis and Jesus are transforming my mind and heart to be someone who doesn’t opt out, but who uses my own agency to fight for true freedom and resist those powers and principalities that would trick me into denying the freedom and value of black and brown lives. Their fierce spirit of resistance and prophetic imagination inspire me. Jesus’s defeat of the powers and principalities through his resurrection give me hope. Combined they are creating a prophetic resolve within me that is rising up to sing without ceasing, “We who believe in freedom cannot rest until it comes.”