Forbbiden

Forbidden Fruit

How sweet the taste?

Forbidden song

A bitter sweet melody

Forbidden thought

An unrelenting conscience

Forbidden voice

Speaks truth to injustice

Forbidden change

Unwanted yet needed

Forbidden spark

That lights the flame.

Forbidden flame
That sets the world ablaze.

Journey

I began this journey over three years ago.

I felt like a sail boat tossed on the sea towards a horizon of possibilities.

I was finally getting a chance to make a human wrong….right.

Sometimes the road seems long,

The journey endless;

As the case load increases;

Stories from different clients coincide and collide,

So many questions,

Fewer answers,

It seems unfair that she has to decide between food and medicine.

That her rent is high and her wages low.

Resources few, the demand great,

From seeking pro bono attorneys,

To low cost medical clinics,

More and more tales of inhumanity,

Anger burns within me like a flame,

Sometimes, it leaves me feeling numb.

From systems that seem so powerful,

To laws that seem more unjust than just,

While politicians indulge in their own projects, and cut essential services

While safe havens often shut their doors to those whose immigration status is a blur

I wonder if my voice has abandoned me.

Am I really being helpful?

Am I really making a difference?

I don’t want to be a band aid

Real change is what I want

For my clients, the system and even me

So I keep going.

I see her resilience and she passes a citizenship exam entirely on her own, despite speaking only a little English.

I see her strength as she takes on the sole responsibility of raising her three young children.

I even see her advocate for others in similar struggles.

I see communities rise up in partnership to meet their needs.

I discover and rediscover that I still have my heart that listens and my voice that speaks.

I pray and I hope that I will keep them through every journey.

The sail boat sets sail again.

This time safeguarded against the wind and the waves,  

Protected by memories and successes that sustains me.

We are Troy Davis

May we never forget the day- September 21 2011. May we never forget that cold and soul-less hour 11:08pm. Jackson, Georgia a small town in "Beautiful Butts" county, witnessed a major travesty of justice in the 21st Century. Troy Anthony Davis, a man on death row, was "legally lynched" by the state of GA, the Supreme Court, the bigwig politicians from the Governor to the President, and every one else who decided to keep silent or remain indifferent about this issue. Mr. Davis's guilt was not proven, seven out of nine witnesses recanted testimony, there was no physical evidence, and reports of police coercion, simply stated there was just "Too Much Doubt!". Yet a possibly innocent man was murdered by the state! Where is the justice in this world?

Will and I were in Jackson yesterday. There were around 500 protestors (maybe more or less). We went to the little church (Towaliga County Line Baptist Church), where messages of hope, solidarity and a call to action were emphasized as the need of the hour. It reminded me of watching some of the "Eyes on the Prize" videos. Leaders in the church told activists to be disciplined, not to carry signs with sticks and not to antagonize the police because they would tear gas us! I never heard a media report about how we were trying to organize non violently but I did hear one report call us an "unruly crowd".

Jackson,GA looked like what I think a police state may look like. There were armored guards, SAWT teams (whatever you call them) dressed in full gear, carrying batons, guns and tear gas. They looked imposing and intimidating. They would ever so often shuffle a few steps closer to the protestors. Oh and did I mention, there were two helicopters circling the area. What a waste of money, did any one of those crony capitalists remember that we are in a recession. People stated that a young man was beaten, kicked and tazed. At one time, they told our group that we were flashing a light at them, and that we were sitting too close to the street. Also on a couple of occasions, there was a true show of force as about 20 cops cars blazed down the road with their bright blue lights flickering and sirens raging. Was the state expecting a riot? Why was the state expecting a riot? Racism? Did the state forget that Martin Luther King Jr led a non violent movement?

People have been calling out for Truth, people have been demanding justice, people have been trying to participate in democracy. A pastor chained himself to a post near the GA State Capitol in Downtown Atlanta only to be arrested three hours later by the police. People raised their voices in chants, some cried tears, some read from the Bible, some prayed, some sangs hymns- such as "Amazing Grace", "This little light of mine", "Kumbaya", "We Shall Overcome", some played the drums and some lit candles, some carried signs which said "Not in My Name" or "I am Troy Davis" or "God is Watching"  or "Injustice anywhere threatens Justice everywhere" We were a scary sight in comparison to the SWAT team . Ridiculous! Just seemed like there was a travesty of justice everywhere. Not to forget the media, who did a decent enough analysis but only picked and chose what they decided to be newsworthy. For instance when we first got to Jackson, we and a small group were trying to stand on the GA right of way and hold up our signs, only to be shooed away like cattle by the SWAT team who wanted us to keep walking. Will told one of the media guys about this and he said that if this were a larger group he would cover the story. How many true stories are not reported in the media because they have to make way for "fluff news".

Needless to say, I am really sad and a little bit disillusioned as well. An innocent man has been murdered, people who have power like the Governor or the President decided to act like Pontius Pilate. They wiped their hands off the matter, but guess what they have blood on their hands, we all have blood on our hands.  Imagine for instance how cool it would have been, if Mr. Deal had shown come courage and tried to cross over to the other side and if the police arrested him. Well, he did not do any of that- so I guess he just remains a shameful coward.

Shame on Georgia and Shame on the United States. We have let an innocent man die. Are we so blind that we do not realize that this could happen to any one us?  As we were reminded by movement leaders in Jackson, Troy may be dead physically, but his spirit soars and is alive. We have to honor his memory, honor his courage. It is imperative that we continue to work relentlessly against the injustices in our legal system and all the other systems in general. God is watching our every action. We know He is the ultimate judge. Now is the time for all of us to pick up our crosses and listen to our conscience. We have to provide witness that there can be a society where Truth, Justice, Democracy and Love reign supreme. We are all Troy Davis!

 

Active Faith

You moved amidst the sick in slippery dirty streets

The mob hurled stones at you, you endured

Frail in body but your spirit was forever strong

Lepers, untouchables, society’s outcast were touched by your love

A hypocritical city was suddenly blessed

Love was what you forever stressed

Faith, sustained you- led you on

From a prison cell you wrote a letter

A call of action you dictated

You wanted community to become beloved

Barriers of race and creed stripped down

Peace, non violence were you constant mantra’s

For that you were shot from a window across town

Faith, sustained you – led you on

You were just a little child

Mired by a disease so scary to comprehend

You found the voice to inform the world

That cure and medicine were the need of the hour

Faith, sustained you- led you on

From a vantage position in front of the house

Engaging thousands – you served as a moral compass

Building bridges between rock n roll- God and politics

Your voice became the definition of the conscience

Urging us to take control,to move away from our comfort zone

Faith, sustains you- leads  you on

Faith without works is dead

That's what the Book of James has said

So raise your voice, reach out in love

Question injustice everywhere
Do what you can, they best way you can

May faith sustain you and lead you on..........

Letter to a Tennessee Bishop

Hi Bishop Swanson,

I am writing to you, to express deep concern about your conference's decision on decommissioning 'Forrest Avenue United Methodist Church' in Chattanooga, TN.

It is a despicable act considering that you are short changing the poor in order to receive some petty cash. It is despicable because you are forgetting what Jesus said in Matthew 25 " I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers of mine, you did for me." Maybe you have not forgotten these powerful words but just choose to ignore them. Is it the mission of your conference to make money, sell holy sacred consecrated land for big bucks? Forrest Avenue UMC is a sacred place because it administers to the least in society, it offers them a place where God's will is being done. It offers the homeless, drug addicts and alcoholics a place to pray, have fellowship, a warm meal and restore dignity. Mr. Bishop -do the poor and the downtrodden disgust you? If this were a church that was all clean cut and 'hoity- toity'; paying their dues and satisfied with being comfortable fringe Christians would you even consider decommissioning them?

The pastors/people at Forrest Avenue, are acting every day on Christian Faith and Love, they are a positive influence on not just the poor but also the new comers to downtown Chattanooga. You can see them handing out sack lunches at parks, administering God's Love in street corners and living a life of active faith. Yet, you and your cohorts think that their ministry is not worthwhile? Are you more interested in nickels and cents (well millions in reality)than serving God and doing His will? Poverty is mentioned in the scriptures over 2000 times in the Bible. Don't you think that this should then be the church's calling to reach out to both the economically poor and the spiritually bankrupt? Isn't it awesome that Forrest Avenue is working on these two aspects so wholeheartedly. This church should be raised up as epitome of what it is to do God's work, an encouragement to other churches that only pay lip service to God's calling. Do not decommission this church!

I do not know if you have ever visited the church or seen it's cross shine at night. Imagine, what an inspiration it is, to someone who is broken in spirit and broken in life to see the shining cross on the top of a hill. It could restore hope, faith, and create a reawakening experience. Imagine, now if that church is bulldozed to the ground and some fancy condo comes up, with fancy little coffee shops- what kind of inspiration is it going to serve. The poor are going to be more isolated and face intense pressure to move out. Gentrification right?Of all people, the church must not allow gentrification but support unification where rich and poor can still come together to serve God. Unless, you think that 'church' is a 'members only; rich holy huddle.' Mr. Bishop you can do the right thing, before it is too late. Do not decommission Forrest Avenue UMC!

Please consider the words of Martin Luther King Jr, in his Strength to Love speech, 1963: " The church must remember that it is not the master or the servant of the state, but rather the conscience of the state and never it's tool. If the church does not recapture it's prophetic zeal, it will become an irrelevant social club without moral or spiritual authority."  How true, the church should not just be a social club, but the conscience for both the state and society. I think that Forrest Avenue UMC is fulfilling that role but maybe you and your conference have to work on that more. You could be a leader, a star activist Mr. Bishop- do not decommission this church.
To quote Bono (U2's front man):"God is in the slums, in the cardboard boxes where the poor play house. God is in the silence of a mother who has infected her child with a virus that will end both their lives. God is in the debris of wasted opportunity and lives, and God is with us if we are with them." God is in all these places, God is on the move, even in Downtown Chattanooga. You, can be a rock star, Mr. Bishop - do the right thing! Do not sell your self, do not make Christianity look bad. The poor may die, because they no longer have access to a warm meal, their addictions may over take them before they are given a chance to a new life. Do you want that kind of record against your name? I am sure that you have somewhere within you a deep moral conscience- I urge you to pray about it, talk with God - there are no 2 ways about this..decommissioning a church is abhorrent and despicable. You have the power to make a difference and I am hoping and praying that you will do the right thing. Do not decommission Forrest Avenue UMC!!!!
Sincerely
Manisha Anna Lance

A Ride to Remember

Waiting impatiently on a platform

Eyes looking downward,

Everyone cautious, no one knows how the journey will unfold

Actors, fragments of one's imagination and humanity collide;

On the train heading southbound to the Great Five!

A woman stares at the window

Has a heart to heart with her reflection

From angry words to what seems reasonable

She argues, cries, laughs and pleads

An old man with a raspy voice

Opens up the Good Book 

 Proclaims the declarations of the Prophets

Spreads the good news

And wants to know what becomes of your soul?

A child's innocent repetitive questions irk his father, tired from working two dead- end jobs

As tears brim on the corners of the little one's eyes,

The father wonders why a day drags and year flies...

Chit- chat about a trip to some fascinating place

Idle gossip about one's work space

Plaintive cries from  a homeless man

Asking for a couple of dollars to stay at the downtown 'Y'

-All this as the whistle blows and the journey comes to a screeching halt ..

Everyone descends: home, a fancy Mercedes Benz or the cold shivering street

Paths may never cross again 

But stories, visions, sounds and smells will always remain in poem or song

Memories of the journey will forever linger on!

Faraway memories

Across a new shore

Crossing an imposing mountain

The dust on his shoes never seem to settle

Scruffy cap, hoarse whisper, misty eyed

‘Am I really here?’

Just yesterday a known solace disappeared

The refuge burnt down to the ground

The words spoken were shun

Lyrical language met with harsh discordant sounds

Symbols of ancient culture scoffed at

Believe in the new law of the land

Freedom! What a stupid idea

Creation of your own homeland- ridiculous

Landless, starving, stripped and voiceless

Silently he marches across the valley

Looking at the treacherous peak ahead

A challenge! A measure of hope!

Across that pinnacle is there a light?

Are new beginnings only the ideas of simple fools?

Just yesterday, the army brought out their weapons

Guns, knives and words as harsh as steel

Lies were spun, blows were struck

Surrender to the nation, surrender your belief

No land of soulful mystics this- just cold faced policy

A place of mythical ethereal beauty- now struck with a smell of a bleeding chemical

Small steps into the future

Will anyone understand?

Will someone accept us?

Will someone hear our silent cry?

How to move this monolith?

How to change its stone cold soul?

Will Tibet be ever free?

Will we be ever free?