May This Be Our Story, May This Be Our Song

Neither in the depths of my study nor the depths of my spirit have I ever encountered this genteel, bourgeoisie Jesus some claim. Surely, should I ever, I’d leave him. I HAVE met and boldly worship the peasant of Palestine, the carpenter’s son, the voice of the margin, the God born into poverty, oppression and shit. I have held THAT torn hand in solidarity. I have embraced THAT scorned vision for life in the kingdom of God here and now. I have not done any of this perfectly. I have done none of it alone. Jesus Christ, I love you. I serve you because your vision is true, your Good News is good, because you have come to restore sight to blind, shelter to the unsheltered, freedom to the prisoner, and God’s favor to the oppressed. I want no part in a faith or way of life that does otherwise. This my hope and my prayer. Friends, let the grace of God abound.
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