I tell my team I’m filming and the shot is ruined because a man whistled at me in the street. we walk through town to get costumes for our video and a van drives by screaming things out the window that I simply cannot write here. we get back home and my team of seven, our dance teacher, two girls from another team, and Alex from the boys team begin filming another scene. This video, is one to raise awareness for sex trafficking. The place I call home, the Dominican Republic, is #3 in the world for sex trafficking. You don’t walk places without a man and it’s an unusual day if you get cat called less than 15 times. For ministry, it’s my job to film this video. “What can I do? Who will this video really reach?” I ask myself as I watch one of my good friends, one of my brothers, pretend to kick our friends.
We take the afternoon to process and intercede for the women stuck in slavery. For the ones living on our street and for the one 15 year old girl and her son that work here. It’s a lot, so I decide to take a break on Instagram. Mindless scrolling, right?
“Jesus we need your help.” is what I see accompanied with a photo of a protest in the states. I see on Facebook that a mutual friend was shot in a peaceful protest. “Lord, what can i do? How can I do anything?”
Church, the world is hurting. The world is in need of a Jesus who died for both the trafficked and the trafficker. for both the hurt person and the racist. The world is in need of people to be called to action. For apathy to be crushed by the cross. You don’t have to travel to another country to fight for justice. What used to look like sitting in my bed watching the fight against sex slavery on Instagram became here, physically, meeting women firsthand. It also means sitting in my tent watching the fight against racism take place in my very hometown, with my own friends. We should not be the ones tied up in Facebook comment arguments or the ones staying silent because it helps keep the peace. We should be the ones leading the fight for truth, for love. Years of hurt, years of broken cycles are sleeping through the soil of the place I stand. The Jesus I know would not stand still because it makes people happy.
1 John 3:14 says, “whoever does not love abides in death.” Friends, if we are not loving like Jesus. If we are not fighting for the ones that are screaming and not heard, we are abiding in death. The Bible is clear in this.
It’s easy. It’s easy to post verses like Galatians 3:28, “There is neither Jew nor Greek, slave nor free, there is neither male nor female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” and say our piece about how everyone is welcome. But we are missing the other half.
Isaiah 61:
The Lord has anointed me to bring good news to the poor; he had sent me to bind up the broken-hearted, to proclaim liberty to the captives, and the opening of the prison to those who are bound; to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor…”
Yes, we are all one in Christ Jesus. But, we want to look like Him too right? So, church, let’s bring good news to the poor. The poor in spirit, the confused. Let’s bind up the broken-hearted, broken about our country and broken about the slavery happening on their own street. Proclaim liberty to the captives. To the women who think this is their only choice, and to the men and women who live in fear because of their skin color. Open the prison to those who are bound. Bound by bars, bound by lack of material goods, bound by fear. This is it. This is the time to move, to fight.
This is not a new problem. All over scripture, we see. Paul fought for welcoming the uncircumsized to the Kingdom. Joseph fought for His family when they thought they killed Him. Jesus fought for reconciliation of all people. All. People.
If Jesus fought for reconciliation, church, we should too.
