Adapted from a Spoken Word

A brown man taught me how to love and He taught me about faith, too.

On a Friday night, He was tragically killed by brutal state-sanctioned force for “crimes” he did not commit.

Left to die there in cold blood, his body hung lifelessly before his weeping mother.

Back then, Calvary trees did bear strange fruit.

He died a living sacrifice.

The Ultimate Martyr for the benefit of all. And all He ever asked for was our faith. In Him. In Love. In the mountain-moving, overflowing, miracle-working, revolutionary and soul saving power resting in His pierced hands.

But we want safe Jesus.

We want a sweet by and by in the sanctity of our own hearts and silence in the face of skeptics.

We want prayers answered but doubt every chance we get.

We sit 21st century Jesus in a cute little box decorated with our every wish.

We are a generation clinging to faith by a thread….

Yet, we’re trapped in 21st century strait jackets threaded in skepticism and laced in fair-weather Christian faith. 

Yet, we’re searching for God in places we need not… as He stands, pierced hands, open-wide.


Yet, we’re too blind to see the same brown man who casted out demons, walked on water, and healed with the touch of His hand is the same One we bow before today. 

Whatever happened to that “I won’t go unless your presence goes with me” type faith?

That “I’d rather be burned alive than to bow before your idols” type faith?

That “PUT ME IN A LION’S DEN, IF YOU WANT TO” type faith?

That “ran my biological clock but still expecting” type faith?

That “come against giants… with a SLINGSHOT” type faith?

That “I don’t see the promised land, I don’t see it, but Lord….I’ll walk” type faith?

I want a throwback type faith.

That old-school faith you could feel in your bones.

The type that made Aunty jump in circles in the church.

That sit in your prayer closet and pour out your heart.

That never woulda made it without you.

That—“this is my last dollar, Lord, be my last dream.”

I won’t settle for a Sunday morning and done type faith.

I want to see. And touch. And hear. And taste the goodness of God 25/8.

These hands, they WILL heal, WILL bless, WILL be lifted to praise the Lord.

The sea-splitting, earth moving, life-breathing, King of kings and Lord of lords!

The Name above all names, worthy of ALL our praise.

The One to whom every knee will bow and every tongue shall confess.

The One who was, and is, and is to come.

The only God in history that ever came down in human form and humbled himself to relate to me.  

So if anyone should ever ask, a brown man taught me how to love, and he taught me about faith, too.







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