Sometimes we give mental assent to the truth but neglect to act it out in our lives or let it regulate our behavior. We neglect to let it help us generously love and care about each other as members of the family of God and residents on Planet Earth. Also, we neglect to let it regulate our actions and interactions, recognizing that Christians are imitators of Christ and that we are here to develop characters in preparation for eternity. We cannot afford to neglect preparation for winter. We cannot afford to live like those who take no thought for the future, who are unmindful of the seriousness of life that is given to us by our Creator. That is why Paul admonishes us, “Besides this you know what hour it is, how it is full time now for you to wake from sleep. For salvation is nearer to us now that when we first believed” (Romans 13: 11).

—Message, November December 2002, “Of Ants Squirrels, and Us” by Bertram Melbourne, Ph.D.

xoneration of Kyle Rittenhouse for the August 2020 killings of John Rosenblum and Anthony Huber, and serious wounding of Gaige Grosskreutz, repulsed our sense of justice. Their tragic conflict occurred in the midst of a Kenosha, Wisconsin protest challenging the police shooting of an unarmed black man. Yet, the deadly meeting of these four evaded neat examination in the social justice reckoning around policing, criminal justice, privilege, and power. Convictions and sentencing, on the other hand, of father and son defendants Gregory and Travis McMichaels, and their neighbor William Bryan, for tracking, cornering, and murdering Ahmaud Arbery in Brunswick, Georgia, and filming it all, gave us hope.

Both outcomes obviously failed in their ability to return precious sons and loved ones to their friends and family. Moreover, whether the “rule” imparted regarding self-defense is clear, or whether any instructive deterrent resulted from these verdicts, remains to be seen. We’re left with a critical opportunity for conversation regarding the values that underpin the relational dynamics of privilege.

ver the last several years, the social justice movement has received unexpected attention as the inequities in this country surfaced and racism reared its ugly head. Social justice primarily most often refers to “justice in terms of the distribution of wealth, opportunities, and privileges within a society” (Oxford Dictionary). However, “Food Justice” can make a huge difference in health outcomes in our communities.

When I think of food justice, I think of children who live in food deserts, like I did as a child. My mom walked uptown or drove over highways to get healthy food for us. The only store on our street in the projects was one like stores attached to gas stations today, but she did a great job of finding healthy options. And when we moved South, my daddy began to garden for our family.

et’s face it; most of us aren’t comfortable talking about intimacy. It makes us cringe when brought up in religious circles. We largely associate it with the physical act of sex and therefore deem it inappropriate to discuss unless it’s a private conversation between consenting married adults. And we dare not bring up the subject in church! But what if we told you that intimacy is God’s idea, and that He invented it as a way to have a deep and meaningful relationship with us?

Jeremiah 1:5 says, “Before I formed you in the womb I knew you…” The Hebrew word for knew here is the word yada and has an intimate connotation. Jeremiah uses that word to describe how God feels about him. It signifies a deep and innermost understanding that transcends the shallow knowledge of an acquaintance or even the semi-deep knowledge of a friend. In fact, yada is the same word used in Genesis 4:1 that says, “Now Adam knew (yada) Eve his wife, and she conceived and bore Cain…”

An acclaimed American intellectual, philosopher, author, speaker, Ivy League graduate, and professor, West’s perspective has saturated the social justice lexicon. From his seminal 1993 Race Matters to his 2014 Black Prophetic Fire, the books in between, spoken word albums, and even acting—in the futuristic, dystopian, “The Matrix” enterprise—one can always recognize his voice. While “Councilor West” didn’t appear in the latest Matrix, his new Masterclass, launched last November, covers philosophy, compassion, and what it means to be human.

Patterson is in the business of redeeming the time and people who need redeeming. His own story of redemption, however, began when he was accidentally released from prison where he could have possibly served a 28-year sentence for armed robbery. The judge knocked the charge down to a misdemeanor and ultimately expunged Patterson’s record.

Patterson went on to finish both his theology degree and a master’s degree in education administration and business from Southwestern Adventist University. His story and passion drive his purpose and mission today because, as he puts it, he’s the “Preacha from hell, with a story to tell.”

“We are the advocates and the buffers for the people in our community who aren’t given equal treatment by law enforcement officers,” says Davis. “Our commitment is to ensure that people of color are afforded the rights under the constitution as those in the privileged class.”

Human rights should be afforded to all human beings. Civil rights are supposed to be guaranteed under the constitution, however—Davis reminds—we are aware of the nuances of law. These rights are all too often granted to people with different skin color than ours. Before “Defund the Police” was ever a hashtag, DeLacy was a pioneer in community-oriented policing (COP).

The Sea of Galilee is rich in marine life, with lots of plants and fish. In fact, it is home to over thirty different types of fish. On the other hand, there is no life at all in the Dead Sea; no fish, vegetation, or sea creatures. Nothing lives in the Dead Sea, hence, the name.

The Sea of Galilee has an outlet; it gets to give. The Dead Sea has no outlet; it gets to keep.

“Freely you have received, freely give” (Matthew 10:8, NKJV). This Gospel passage reminds us to give as we have received much from the Lord. Our Lord has blessed us with the air we breathe, the food we eat, the good jobs we have, the true friendships we share, and much more. Above all, Jesus Christ gave up Himself on the cross for us. And He continues to bless us as He walks with us through difficult and perplexing times, particularly during this pandemic.

The Lord has given us so much. He blesses us in more ways that we cannot even imagine. We know that our Lord gives freely and unconditionally. As Christians following Christ faithfully, we have a strong calling, which is “to give as our Lord has given.”

Arbery was gunned down by three white men in Brunswick while jogging in their neighborhood. He was unarmed and minding his business. This sounds familiar: unarmed, yet suffering death while performing everyday tasks while black. Also familiar were details of the case that seemed to forecast further inequities in the process and the outcome. For example, though Arbery was killed in February 2020, the video of his murder did not surface until May of that year. Also, though not uncommon, the jury was mostly white, with one African American.

e hear a lot about social justice these days. The topic is huge and there are myriad things that could be said about it. I am zeroing in on only one.

In the Old Testament book of Zechariah, Chapter 8:4-5, we find these words, “This is what the Lord of Heaven’s Armies says: Once again old men and women will walk Jerusalem’s streets with their canes and will sit together in the city squares. And the streets of the city will be filled with boys and girls at play” (NLT).

When I studied Zechariah in an inductive Bible class, my study leader quoted a man by the name of Speers whose words she found in her Expository Bible Commentary. This man said, “Too often men measure a city’s significance by its businesses, professions, industry, its buildings, its wealth, its art and culture. Zechariah suggests we measure the significance of our cities by their effect upon two groups easily overlooked—the old and the young.”

God’s plan to deal with oppression connects closely with the true Sabbath. Martin Luther King, Jr. acknowledged that “[m]orality cannot be legislated, but behavior can be regulated. Judicial decrees may not change the heart, but they can restrain the heartless.”