Faith in Action

Resurrection Sunday 2007  yesterday (also known as Easter Sunday to some)  was amazingly relevant, real, and invigorating for me.  As my notorious “Easter? Oh that again...” post from 2005 reveals; I was in a very challenging place a couple of years back when it came to Easter Sunday and most other religious holidays.  In addition to having some questions about the theological foundation for the holiday, I was also extremely frustrated with the amount of pomp and circumstance minus the social and spiritual significance.

Yesterday, I experienced a drastic departure from the routine of Resurrection Sunday.

After attending my church’s sunrise service at 6AM; I made my way to the Department of Juvenile Services facility in downtown Baltimore for a special Resurrection Service for young males who are currently incarcerated.  One of my brothers in ministry was spearheading this effort which was initiated by his church and requested by his pastor.  He called and invited me and asked if I knew of any other good brothers who needed to be in the room.  I contacted a couple of other brothers and we all showed up on Sunday. 

The nontraditional Resurrection Service was amazing - utterly amazing…more powerful than any words that I could use to describe it.  While standing in the gymnasium and helping the brothers and administrators set the room; I didn’t know what to expect.  I didn’t know what these young boys would look like - be like - speak like - or how they would perceive us.  I immediately realized how much I had allowed mainstream media to make these boys “monsters” to me. 

On the contrary, the boys who walked through those doors were boys like any others.  They walked in with white tees, grey pants, tube socks and flip flops on.  Their baby faces were decorated by tattoos and flat facial expressions.  They probably had as many questions about us as we had about them. 

I walked over and greeted some of them, making sure to look them dead in their eyes and give them a firm man handshake.  Adrenaline and excitement rushed through my body like I wasstrapped up on my high school football team awaiting kickoff. 

I sensed God in the room. 

I started things off with prayer and the next 90 minutes was an amazing worship experience complete with testimonies, spoken word, and sermon.  While the brothers had to keep their tough outside demeanor in tact; they were hearing the message.  They were responding.  They were hungry for more. 

Brothers raised their hands requesting salvation - they requested assistance with employment and funding for college.  One brother in particular came back for prayer and counsel.  Awaiting trial for a drug distribution charge; he wanted us to help him - not just for his own sake, but for the sake of his two small babies at home.  During prayer he broke down and tears escaped his eyes like he hadn’t had a good cry in a long time. 

Another brother motioned for me to come over to him. 

He said, “Remember me? I was in your XX class back at XX Middle School“. 

His name immediately came to my mind and fresh memories of him clowning around in my class came to my brain.  I remembered how I used him as my assistant in the class as a way to keep him engaged.  We spoke briefly and I hugged him….almost wanting to cry because I felt like I failed him.  Did I put him in there? No, but if I would have given him more time perhaps he wouldn’t be locked up.  But then how many young brothers would I have to give my time to?….there are thousands of young boys just like him that have all the potential in the world, but don’t have a strong family base or mentors to help steer them clear of the system that is just waiting to chew them up and never spit them out.  (I can’t tell you how many calls/emails that I receive from female relatives requesting assistance with their son, grandson, or nephew.  Not because I’m so great, but because the need is extraordinarily great.)

After the service, the administrators asked us to come back on a regular basis and we eagerly accepted the invitation.  The young brothers were already asking when we would come back.  We’re in the process now of assembling a committee of men to regularly reach out to young brothers in custody of the Department of Juvenile Services.  As I just told a pastor-friend of mine last week; I feel God more in those types of settings than I do in traditional church experiences. 

I can’t wait to go back to that facility and reconnect with those young brothers.  If I had my way, I’d be going every Sunday.  Then I would experience the true spirit and meaning of Resurrection Sunday every week.