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Sharing in Christ’s suffering6/5/2020 A Message of Hope and Encouragement to the African American Faith Community Written by Dominique Hampton As I sat down to prepare a few words of encouragement to my fellow black brothers and sisters in Christ, I found myself struggling to put words down on paper. Over the course of this week alone, I’ve called out to God countless times asking, “God why must this happen to my people. God this isn’t fair. God we are hurting, we are upset, we are angry, and we are afraid.” So, I tried turning on worship music, and for a few moments, I was at peace, but as soon as the earbuds left from my ears I was met with the sounds of weeping and the gnashing of teeth from those with skin color that look like mine. It feels as if we are living in hell on Earth.
And so, I went to the only place that I knew where to go in times of trials and tribulations, and that was to the word of God. I didn’t know what I was searching for, but I flipped open my bible looking for anything to give me hope. Flipping from book to book, story to story, page to page, and I begged God to show me something. After a couple of days of searching for answers, I found nothing. After bottling up so much emotion and anger from taking in post after post, video after video, and crying out to my peers trying to get them to understand what is happening, I went for a run around my college town to release the built up energy. During the run, I came upon a vast lake as the sun was setting, and for the first time in a while, I felt small, alone, afraid and seemingly hopeless in such a large, evil, and corrupt world. I asked, “God, don’t you see what’s happening?” After some more searching, I was finally drawn to Matthew 27:45-46. It takes place after Jesus was betrayed by Judas and delivered into the hands of the Romans. Jesus hung on the cross after enduring excruciating pain, a word derived to describe the pain of crucifixion. After being beaten, whipped, and brutalized, we arrive at the final few moments before Jesus gave up his spirit. And we read in Matthew 27:45-46 (NIV): “From noon until three in the afternoon darkness came over all the land. About three in the afternoon Jesus cried out in a loud voice, “Eli, eli, lema sabachthani?” (which means “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?”). If any of you are like me, you’ve probably prayed a prayer similar to this. You’ve asked the question, “God where are you?” The incredible thing about the phrase “Eli, Eli, Lema sabachthani” or “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me,” is that if you dig around in the Old Testament for a little bit, you’ll learn that this phrase first appears in the Book of Psalms Chapter 22, and that it is actually a fulfilment of what is undeniable a prophetic passage on the crucifixion of Jesus Christ, the son of God. I encourage you after this blog to go and fully read Psalms 22, but in the interest of time I will share with you verses 1-11 (NIV). 1My God, my God, why have you forsaken me? Why are you so far from saving me, so far from my cries of anguish? 2 My God, I cry out by day, but you do not answer, by night, but I find no rest.[b] 3 Yet you are enthroned as the Holy One; you are the one Israel praises.[c] 4 In you our ancestors put their trust; they trusted and you delivered them. 5 To you they cried out and were saved; in you they trusted and were not put to shame. 6 But I am a worm and not a man, scorned by everyone, despised by the people. 7 All who see me mock me; they hurl insults, shaking their heads. 8 “He trusts in the Lord,” they say, “let the Lord rescue him. Let him deliver him, since he delights in him.” 9 Yet you brought me out of the womb; you made me trust in you, even at my mother’s breast. 10 From birth I was cast on you; from my mother’s womb you have been my God. 11 Do not be far from me, for trouble is near and there is no one to help. As I read through that passage fully knowing it is in relation to Jesus, I can’t help but take what I read and compare that to the struggles that African Americans have faced in this country. I can’t help but imagine the children of Israel, who for 430 years were slaves in Egypt, and compare that to the 400 years that African Americans have faced oppression in this country. I can’t help but imagine Christ who, in all his Glory, was born in a manger, a room meant to hold animals, and compare that to young black boys and girls whose worth is overlooked because they come from low income households. I can’t help but imagine how many people overlooked Christ's value with sentiments such as ”Jesus, isn’t He the carpenter's son,” or when Nathaniel in the book of John asked “Can anything good come out of Nazareth?” and compare that to young black boys and girls whose value is overlooked because they come from struggling urban environments. I can’t help but imagine Christ who spent the entirety of his life being targeted by Roman authorities & Roman soldiers, and compare that to how African Americans for centuries have been trying to escape the grip of systemic racism & police brutality that has flourished in America. When I read what Paul wrote in Acts 5:30 in the KJV, he says: “The God of our fathers raised up Jesus, whom ye slew and hanged on a tree.,” I can’t help but imagine an innocent Christ nailed to the cross fighting for his last breath as he is being mocked and shamed by the Romans, and not compare that to the pictures of aN innocent black body hanging from a tree, being mocked and shamed as men, women, and children stand together gathering for a photo. God where are you? He finally answered me in 1 Peter 4:12-13: “Dear friends, do not be surprised at the fiery ordeal that has come on you to test you, as though something strange were happening to you. But rejoice inasmuch as you participate in the sufferings of Christ, so that you may be overjoyed when His glory is revealed.” Rejoice? God, rejoice? Are you serious? Right now, I can’t understand it, but maybe it was something our ancestors understood as they sang out spiritual hymns in the cotton fields during the period of enslavement. Or maybe it was something they understood when they marched down the streets in the south, as they faced persecution during the civil rights movement. I’ve learned that no matter what time you look to in our fight for justice, God has always been ever present within our community. Although we may not always see it, He’s working. We learn in our Bible that though Israel were slaves, God delivered them into the promised land. Though Christ was born in a manger and grew up in Nazareth, God elevated and raised him up to be King of Kings, Lord of Lords. Though Christ was delivered into the hands of the authorities, God used what the enemy meant for evil and turned it around for His good. Yes, Christ was crucified, and to us it may have seemed that his story ended there, but 3 days later He rose from the dead ultimately defeating death, hades, and the grave. Jesus commands us in Matthew 16 to take up our cross and follow him. Following Jesus is a challenge in itself, and sometimes it feels as if this brown skin makes our cross even heavier, especially in times such as these. But let me encourage you. As Jesus marched his way to cavalry, Peter, one of his disciples got up next to Jesus and helped carry the burden of that weight so Jesus, at His weakest moments, didn’t have to go through it alone. When Jesus finally ascended in His divine glory, He bestowed upon us His spirit to help strengthen and encourage us for times such as these. Jesus understands what we are going through. He went through it Himself. I also know that our God is a just and sovereign God. Although I can’t make sense of any of it at the moment, Proverbs 3 tells me to lean not on my own understanding. I envision God looking down from His throne in Heaven, hurting as we share in Christ’s suffering, but fully knowing that what He has in store for us is far greater than we could ever imagine. And as we continue to run our race and fight the good fight, let us keep our eyes set upon God, because though it has been a long journey, we are getting closer to the end each and every day. As we continue to work to bring Heaven down on Earth, let us look towards the day where we’ll finally receive a “Well done, my good and faithful servant,” and rejoice in Heaven with all of God’s glory and with people from every nation, tribe, and language (Revelation 7:9). To conclude this post, I wanted to end with the reading of the last verse of “Lift Every Voice and Sing” also known as the Black National Anthem, written by James Weldon and John Rosamond Johnson. God of our weary years God of our silent tears Thou who has brought us thus far on the way Thou who has by Thy might Led us into the light Keep us forever in the path, we pray Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee Lest, our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee Shadowed beneath Thy hand May we forever stand True to our God True to our native land God sees us and He is with us. Always has, always is, and always will be. Keep fighting the good fight. Blessings.
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