Just like black lives, words matter
“I was raised in the black church tradition and there was one song I absolutely hated. It was called, What Do You Know About Jesus? The congregation would say, ‘He’s alright’. It just repeated those words over and over again, but what could that really mean to me as a 10-year-old? In my community, church was a resource. It is where the needs of the people are met. We were always in the church. I went to youth Bible Study, we received free meals, and even free tutoring. My church was where I felt cared for and through that caring I experienced the care of Christ. When I was 14 I gave my life to Christ, when I was 16 I knew God was calling me to be a preacher. At 17 I gave my first sermon. I preached on spiritual blindness. It was terrible. I’m sure the congregation got nothing out of it – what could I have really known about spiritual blindness at 17? But my mom, she made me a plaque “Reverend Derick”. It was almost prophetic. She rallied around me, my whole church community did. I believe that real community creates harmonizing displays of individuality and connectedness. It was through that community that I was affirmed in my calling, despite my speech impediment, they lifted me up to speak the Word.
Of course there were times when I fought with God about my calling to be a preacher. If I could go back, I don’t know if it’d do it different but I’d think about it for a while – there is obviously more fun to be had as a young adult. The carnal side of me sometimes wishes I’d experienced everything there was to experience. It is easy to imagine that if I did it differently, it would have been better. But, I have to remind myself that it could have been worse. It took me a while to get there. It wasn’t always easy being the 17-year-old preacher, but I think it was good. I was always trying to build others up. Even now people stop me when they see me and even when I don’t remember them, they remember that I was always open to them, their stories, and struggles. Then they find out I’m a preacher. I don’t know where they are with their faith or their journey, but I hope that it makes them wonder; I hope it makes them curious to know more.
Earlier I mentioned I have a speech impediment. I’ve struggled with words my whole life. I’ve accepted that. But it my speech impediment helped me to appreciate the power words have. Just like black lives, words matter. With words you can speak truth to power, life to death. And when you really look into the mechanics and theology behind them, you discover words are the vibration of the divine spirit (nĕshamah) within us. Now, I praise God for my speech impediment because it forces me to choose my words carefully, words that create impact, words that communicate meaning. Being a preacher is a big responsibility and I don’t mind stuttering through it because I believe that my words activate the spirit of God within us. Now, when I think about how often my congregation repeated those words, ‘He’s alright”, I understand the repetition differently. I think of what those words must mean to someone who has lost a loved one, survived breast cancer, or is struggling to make ends meet. I think about what those words mean to someone who is 55, or 75, and I imagine what they’ve seen, what they’ve experienced. After everything they’ve been through, to be able to say “Jesus is alright” again and again – there is gravitas to that.”
