Thoughts, Prayers & Art

Originally published: April 14,2025

Yes. Yes. Say it again. Cry it loud.
An innocent brown-skinned man was sentenced to death.
An innocent brown-skinned man was sentenced to death!
An innocent brown skinned man was sentenced to death!
And we—we who dare to wear the name Christian—walk through Holy Week as if it’s a pageant.
As if the cross is a quaint necklace.
As if the tomb is a metaphor.
But the truth is bleeding out right now.
The story of Jesus is not confined to ancient scrolls.
It is playing out on our soil. In our jails. On our streets, being sent to El Salvador.
In courtrooms that claim justice but serve only empire.
Another innocent brown-skinned man sentenced to death.
And the powerful smirk.
Pilate still washes his hands.
Crowds still shout “Crucify.”
And disciples—some pray, some sleep, most scatter.

It’s Holy Week.

And yet we crucify again.
With silence.
With complicity.
With whitened pulpits too afraid to speak.
Where is the Church?
Not the one in stained glass and pressed vestments
But the one in Spirit and truth?

Have we learned nothing?
Because if Jesus’ death means anything at all-
It means we stand with the condemned.
It means we shout no more crosses
for the innocent, the poor, the marginalized.
It means we do not look away.

This Holy Week, may we see clearly.
Not just the cross on the hill,
But the crosses in our cities.
The Golgothas in our systems.
The brown-skinned Christ in every cell, every courtroom, every cage.
Lord have mercy.

We have crucified you again.

Bring Kilmar Abrego Garcia HOME and hold his captor’s accountable!