Setting Prisoners Free

When I was young, it felt like my tongue was stapled to the back of my throat! I had words to say, but I could never get them out. People loved to focus on how shy I was, how my face would turn bright red, and how I just needed to “speak up”. These comments only fed my social anxiety and caused me to retreat further.   When I was young, I saw and felt the pain and suffering of those less privileged. It was a burning in my heart, in my soul, in my whole being! Internally, I questioned the gross inequality and injustice surrounding me! I wanted to cry out, loud, in anger, but my tongue was stapled to the back of my throat! When I was a teenager, I was part of a youth group which meant attending Home Groups. They were nightmarish events for socially anxious kids like me. Near the end of these 90-minute Bible studies, there were always prayer times. We’d all shut our eyes, and one by one everyone around the circle would pray, except me, because I felt my tongue was stapled to the back of m

What is our Christian faith, if in the name of Jesus, we justify oppressive control and horrific violence on a people deemed disposable? Christians, we must cast aside that superiority Christians, we must quit craving after riches Christians, we must smash our lust for power The gospel isn’t a “pray the right prayer” formula, with obedience to a set of rules, to ensure that special ticket to heaven The gospel is good news to the poor The gospel is liberation for prisoners and oppressed The gospel is loving our neighbours as ourselves Jesus proclaimed that His Kingdom, manifested in Him, and lived out by Him, was not a system of domination and violence... He came to aggravate the rich He came to challenge the powerful He came to humiliate the proud The Kingdom Jesus fulfilled in himself doesn’t drop bombs on the helpless, oppress those in poverty, or withhold food and water from those imprisoned... His followers should be called humble His followers should be called merciful His followe

Every night I go to bed with heaviness. Every morning I wake up with the same heaviness. As a father, it’s so painful to see distraught fathers running through the rubble with their babies covered in debris and blood. They’re wailing in pain, in despair, in desperation. I feel so helpless, but not nearly as helpless as those suffering in Gaza and the West Bank. We march in solidarity with millions of others begging the Powers-That-Be to put down their weapons of mass destruction and choose peace, knowing it is the poor, the weak, the prisoner, the oppressed, the colonised and the sick who are suffering and dying. I march for a ceasefire. I chant on the crowded streets, "Ceasefire now". I pray for a ceasefire, but not nearly as much as those surrounded by death and destruction in Gaza. I believe Jesus called us as followers of him to bring good news to the poor and liberation to the captives and oppressed. I believe Jesus called us to "love our neighbours as ourselves&quo