If you grew up like me    perhaps    your ism was a trap    you didn’t see. 
Perhaps    it was in the air we can  breathe    in the news man on TV.   Maybe  
It was the laugh    at a joke,  the cast  of a vote   
It’s the hand   that shakes     yours in the church    vestibule
The gravity that chains     you to the earth     terrestrial.

It’s hidden   in the majority   history   we learned,   the institutions we served, 
Implicit     in our education and health,   our generational wealth,
Unbidden   in how we read    God’s word   to justify  
Our silence      through centuries    of oppression of violence.

But what if I     told you that all that stuff    that Jesus said
About neighbor love    and let Your Kingdom come
He actually meant it   though?
Not just the parts that protect our pride   our rights   our status quo.
Would you reject or resent it?   Or let me finish? Three minutes? Go.

Now that I have your attention,    let me mention
That there’s no such thing as a Christian    nation
And where we’re at today is a culmination,
From the doctrine of discovery and the myth of meritocracy
Through lifetimes    of redlines    and segregation
Lynching   and mass incarceration.      

And if we need    convincing    of the plain truth   that “I can’t breathe”   
Is the strange fruit    from that tree     of slavery,
Before we check   the spec   in a brother’s eye,
We  have got    to transform,     make another try
To get our platform   out of our own.

And could I get an Amen   if I were to weigh in?
Don’t get triggered    congregation,
But the God   we put our faith in
Is way bigger    than the politics of polarization.
And do black lives really matter  
To our denominations    of red-blooded good   Samaritans   
If we preach a white-lie, silver-spoon    Golden rule   American     
Dream that’s green   with greed  and grieves   those in need?  

I know it’s a drag    but understand 
We inherited a gospel that was colonized   and colorized
By the flags     and empires   of man
And as I unfurl   the fact    from the fiction
I’m coming to find   the contradictions    
In these lines  and scars     that won’t heal
From the stripes and stars     that won’t deal
With the unraveling myths and unflattering rips
In our old-glory story.

Yet as I face up    to my upbringing
I still find hope in   the uprising   of our Christ King.
So we’ve got work to do,   me and you, 
Uprooting weeds    planting seeds.
Let us open  a brand new     beginning   
Join me in lamenting, repenting,    apologizing
For the sinning    of our faith tradition.
Let’s talk less and listen
More.   Defend    and amplify    the brave voices of people of color.
Upend     the systems and structures    
that legitimize   our unspoken isms, our broken conditions.
May we share a just vision    where there is no “Other”
Only sister     and brother.

God, let our eyes    recognize  
Your sacred image    brimming   inside    every human being    
Let Your light    shine    beautifully  
In a prism    of a thousand shades.
Let Your will be done in a hundred every-day     decisions:
Let us stand   in unity    for your mercy     and redemption.
Let our hands   work    faithfully    to bless    those who are hurting. 
Let our words   fluently   call forth   the best    in humanity.

This we pray:  Today   may   
We come wide awake     to celebrate    a kinder  ruckus             
Calibrate   to a higher compass,   your true-north     justice. 
Cultivate     the wonder of     a wilder  grace.     Elevate        
Love   not hate       love not hate      love not hate.

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Credits
Director and Words: Don McCaleb
Director of Photography and Edit: Skylar Ogren
Second Camera: Merritt Ogren
Graphics: Wes Williams
Production: Bruce Elliot