On March 15, 1968 Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. delivered a sermon at Central United Methodist Church in Detroit, MI entitled, "The Meaning of Hope." In this sermon Dr. King reminded the church of its responsibility to "keep the flame of hope burning" by becoming "custodians of hopefulness." For King, hope was absolutely necessary to survive in times of far-reaching injustice.

What is this hope that King speaks of? Where does this hope come from? Where can this hope lead us?

In this book I explore the meaning of hope from both a religious and non-religious perspective. I also provide quotes from some of the most important writings and orations by significant revolutionaries such as MLK, Assata Shakur, Malcolm X, Ida B. Wells, Huey P. Newton, and Angela Davis that have inspired generations of people to keep pushing through adversity in order to secure a better future.

This book will be a completely FREE resource that will inspire, enlighten, and be the sustenance needed to continue the fight for liberation. It will be available in PRINT on May 19th.

1. Why @TefPoe is Leading, and Clergy are Following
In the post-Civil Rights Black Church, Hip Hop culture has emerged as a powerful religious praxis in the black community. Filling a void that was once occupied by spirituals, blues, Dr. King, and the black panthers; Hip Hop has surfaced as a new movement of religious expression...continue reading
2. they would respect us if
With the Ferguson movement and other protests around the country highlighting the dual but interrelated problems of police brutality and racial profiling in African American communities, many public intellectuals have been pondering the reasons why Blacks are more likely to be profiled, brutalized, or worse, murdered in cold blood as Mike Brown was...continue reading
3. Racial Identity and the Church
Each week we sat in a circle, huddled in a dorm room preparing our hearts for worship. For an entire semester our small group of diverse women gathered together to pray. One day a new face joined our little group. When it was time for her to pray, she started off shyly, carefully choosing each word. A voice within the group gently interrupted, “You know you can pray in any language you want.” We all felt her body shift as she exclaimed, “Really?” We opened our eyes and nodded in unison...continue reading
4. 3 MLK quotes that convict me today
A fifth point regarding nonviolent resistance is that it avoids not only external physical violence but also internal violence of spirit. The nonviolent resistor not only refuses to shoot his opponent but he also refuses to hate him...continue reading
5. Neo-Anabaptist myths and Mennonite reality on the problem of white homogeneity in Anabaptist communities
Not so fast my neo-Anabaptist brothers (and sisters?). It seems like a brief and short response to the prevalent myth running in neo-Anabaptist circles, in regards to the problem of white homogeneity that needs broader insight to break past the myth and look at what is actually going on in reality...continue reading
The fight for justice in the wake of the murder of Michael Brown, an unarmed 18 year old teenager killed in Ferguson, MO on August 9, 2014 by police officer Darren Wilson, has continued for over 140 days and into the new year. Many have already deemed 2015 as the "Year of Resistance." Since August 9th, other police involved killings from around the country and decisions to not indict the officers involved have fanned the flames of protest culminating in mass demonstrations in 37 states. It has become very evident that this is a movement and not a moment which consequently has led to people of all creeds, across the nation, scrambling to develop an analysis of and a response to racial profiling and police brutality.

For the Church, in particular the Black Church, many questions have arose. What is the role of clergy in this troubled time? Should clergy be priestly or prophetic or both? Historically, the Black Church has been at the forefront of the fight for justice. Does a place of leadership still exist for the Church in this movement or should the Church play a more supportive role? As a Christian what is my role in this? Should I be active in protest or should I stand idly by while people risk their lives in the pursuit of justice?

I have my opinions about the role of clergy and the Church, but I'm not going to use this space to discuss those. For now, I would like to address why justice-making is central to the Christian identity.

God, the Bible, and the Church are the foundation of my activism. Jesus was the first revolutionary I learned about; a first century Palestinian Jew who "courageously exposed the greed for money, power and adulation of the political elite." His movement existed under a police state in the midst of religious and political turmoil. He was arrested unjustly, brutalized and tortured by Roman guards, and executed in a manner "reserved almost exclusively for the crime of sedition." On the other hand, as James Cone writes, "He is also the divine One who transcends the limitations of history by making himself present in our contemporary existence. When God raised Jesus from the dead, God affirmed that Jesus' historical identity with the freedom of the poor was in fact divinity taking on humanity for the purpose of liberating human beings from sin and death. It is within this context that the resurrection is a political event."

Not only do I want to imitate Jesus' revolutionary lifestyle, but also the revolutionary love He exhibited. I experience God as the fountainhead of love. The love that flows to me from God is not meant to stop with me, rather it is meant to flow through me. Huey Newton was absolutely correct when he said, "...what motivates people is not great hate, but great love for other people." It is the revolutionary, boundless, and immense love that I have for people that impels me to seek justice. As Dr. Cornel West says, "Justice is what love looks like in public."

Scripture informs me further of just how central justice-making is to my Christian identity. To know God is to do justice (Jeremiah 22:15-16). It is not enough that we live righteously. We are required to do justice (Micah 6:8). Throughout the Bible we are given very clear reminders of God's love for justice and reminders that it is our duty to fight for those who have been crushed, degraded, humiliated, exploited, impoverished, defrauded, deceived and enslaved (Isaiah 1:17; Matthew 25:40-45; Luke 4:18; Mark 12:30-31).

My upbringing in the African Methodist Episcopal Church (AME) helped me to see what it would look like for the Body of Christ to put those verses into action. I grew up with the understanding that the Church had a responsibility to save souls and to save bodies. In fact, the AME Church was the first major religious denomination in the western world to develop because of sociological differences rather than theological ones. It was literally born out of the fight for freedom and in protest to racial discrimination and slavery. My church involved itself in charity work that served the needs of the less fortunate. But I also saw my church advocate for fair and just public policies and push to change the social structures that lead to people becoming less fortunate.

In the world of faith, the term "social justice" gets caught in the middle of the perpetual tug-of-war between fundamentalism and liberalism. I don't align myself with either side. I am a Black man in America which means I neither have the time nor the privilege to get caught up in theological and ideological bickering. The effects of racism are not theoretical, therefore our response must not only be in theory but in practice. As long as we live in a world controlled by social institutions we should be fighting to ensure those institutions better serve the common good. One of those institutions being the church. In 2014, I witnessed Christians defend torture and label police officers as "agents of God." Certainly many churches and Christians perpetuate harmful dominant narratives and serve to uphold the status quo of a racist and violent social, economic, and political system. This must change.

There have been Christians protesting alongside of me that did not have a similar justice-minded upbringing. What we do share is a belief that we are not only supposed to have a faith that benefits ourselves, but a faith that benefits others, makes the world a better place, and prepares it for the coming of Christ. We have been transformed in a way that empowers us and requires us to transform the world. Faith, Bible, and Church come together to serve the world.

There is a role for everyone in the struggle for justice. If 2015 is to truly be the "Year of Resistance" we must individually and collectively reclaim the Christ of Resistance. Justice must be at the heart of our discipleship. 
While searching for a quote from Malcolm X I was led to a YouTube video of his Militant Labor Forum speech which he delivered on May 29, 1964. In this speech brother Malcolm addressed police brutality in Harlem and as he closed his remarks he offered a critique of the American systems we live under and their inability to liberate oppressed people. Malcolm says, "It's impossible for a chicken to produce a duck egg...a chicken just doesn't have it within its system to produce a duck egg...it can only produce according to what that particular system was constructed to produce. The system of this country cannot produce freedom for an Afro-American. It is impossible for this system, this economic system, this political system, this social system, this system period. It is impossible for it as it stands to produce freedom right now for Black [people] in this country."

As I began to reflect on the words spoken by Malcolm X, I eventually came to the conclusion that the American Church, birthed with Eurocentric theology, suffers from the same character defect as other American systems. The American Church was never constructed to produce freedom for Black people in this country. There is of course a long prophetic tradition within the Black Church that includes entire denominations committed to the work of social justice and Black liberation theology which has helped contextualize the church's role in ending oppression for the Black community in America, but neither of these represent the dominant narrative within the American Church.

I sat in church last Wednesday with my mind and heart still with those in Ferguson, MO. It was hard for me to sit there and receive the message the speaker was delivering after spending a weekend in St. Louis for #FergusonOctober, protesting side by side with my peers, staring down police in riot gear beating their batons against their shin guards. The preacher's sermon did not address what's happening in Missouri. His sermon did not speak to the pain felt throughout the Black community. A pain brought about from the brutalization of young and old Black women and men by people paid to protect and serve them. Rather, he chose to deliver a message tightly wrapped in individualism and private holiness. A message heard far too often from the pulpit these days. A message that is far from the collectivism found in the midst of protesters standing in solidarity every night for the past 80 days. I thought to myself, "For one second can we think collectively and outside of ourselves." The pain of police brutality and racial profiling is not an individual burden, we carry it together.

What happened on August 9th in Ferguson, MO was a microcosm of the reality for the majority of the Black community. With police departments across the nation under a microscope it is becoming even more clear that the data presented by the Malcolm X Grassroots Movement is unfortunately accurate.
An unarmed Black person is killed every 28 hours in America by a police officer, security guard, or a vigilante.
But the young people in Ferguson said this is enough and now an entire generation's eyes are focused on this suburb of St. Louis, MO.

Leaving Mike Brown's body uncovered for 4 and a half hours while his blood stained the concrete was an act of terror only trumped by the imagery of a body swinging in the Southern breeze. The killing of unarmed citizens of color is modern day lynching. In James Cone's The Cross and the Lynching Tree he writes, "The crucifixion of Jesus by the Romans in Jerusalem and the lynching of blacks by whites in the United States are so amazingly similar that one wonders what blocks the American Christian imagination from seeing the connection."

I too marvel at the inability of the American Christian imagination today. In the face of state-sponsored violence, there continues to be a failure to see the connection between what is representative as the worst in human beings. Many churches have been and continue to be complicit with not a broken system but a system that was corrupted from its beginning. It is imperative that these churches acknowledge this. But they can't because their theology was not constructed to properly deal with the plight of oppressed people, particularly Black Americans. What should one expect when church leaders have been influenced by theologians and past prominent church figures who permitted atrocities such as slavery, segregation, and lynching to take place under their watch?

I went to church last Wednesday broken and exhausted. It has been a long fight and the battle will extend far beyond the announcement of no indictment. I was in search of healing and a word that could help me make sense of all the world was throwing at my generation. Instead, I left feeling as though my faith community had abandoned me. James Baldwin once wrote regarding the nature of life, "It forces you, in any extremity, any extreme, to discover what you really live by, whereas most Americans Christians have been for so long, so safe and so sleepy, that they don't any longer have any real sense of what they live by."

What is your theology of Ferguson?

If you'd like to see how some have answered this question, please check out this site.

1. Social Justice for Single People
Despite the fact that I’m committed to self-care, one of the challenges I’ve faced as an unmarried person is how to deal with the daily hits of justice work without a spouse with whom I can daily process those hits. I wish there were someone who knew the intimate details of my life story, knew my past and present pain, encouraged my eschatological hope, and was present in my daily life as a support partner...continue reading

2. Renouncing 'the Magic Negro' urge
I refuse to be a “the Magic Negro” of any organization. Common, you know what I am talking about. Many Christian organizations in the U.S. have a myriad of ways of tokenizing black people. It is only appropriate to think about what it means to be “a black face in a white space” right now as a constructive conversation around race will hopefully jump off after the debut of the movie Dear White People. Tokenizing black women and men in white Christian spaces is an old practice. And while most people of color tend to hate being tokenized in general, there still are particular lures to being a community or institutions “Magic Negro”...continue reading

3. Pseudo-Pacifism: Why Privileged People Love Quoting MLK
If you’re someone that is outspoken on the issue of race chances are, at one point or another, you’ve had a conversation with a so-called “pacifist” who has cited MLK as a pacifistic example. They then use MLK’s life as a means in which you need to be exactly like. This quickly turns from a back and forth dialogue to a dead-end conversation. To say that the way in which Martin Luther King, Ghandi, Jesus, or Nelson Mandela are the only options in which the marginalized can choose from when fighting against an oppression and for their humanity is ridiculous...continue reading

4. Why Is a Black Monk Seated So Prominently Next to Paul the Apostle?
In a stone sculpture that pays tribute to the preaching saint and his ardent follower, the virgin martyr Thecla, lies a clue to the role of Africans in Christianity...continue reading

5. When white friends don’t believe what blacks go through, they’re not friends
I still remember it perfectly, more than 10 years later. It’s terrifying to be stopped in your car and approached by first one and then two more white police officers with their hands resting on their holstered guns. I kept my hands in plain sight on the wheel while they inspected my license and registration. On second thought, I recall thinking during the 15-minute stop, perhaps the scruffy sweats and baseball cap that were perfect for my spin class weren’t the best choices when you’re African American and you’ve just bought a red car. (Why didn’t I pick the gray Camry?) I was given a written warning about running a stop sign that I’d actually stopped at, but I knew better than to argue...continue reading

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