Thurgood Marshall’s Sacred Foundation
Whenever I see Thurgood Marshall’s name show up on our calendar of Lesser Feasts and Fasts, I can’t help but […]
Whenever I see Thurgood Marshall’s name show up on our calendar of Lesser Feasts and Fasts, I can’t help but […]
Born into slavery in Delaware in 1746, Absalom Jones was taken to Philadelphia at sixteen by his enslaver, who sold his mother and siblings before the move.
We read in the second chapter of the Gospel of Matthew that when Jesus was born in Bethlehem, Herod Antipas, the Tetrarch of Galilee (erroneously referred to in the gospels as “King Herod”), fearing for his throne, ordered the deaths all the male children in the Bethlehem area under the age of two.
Growing up when and where I did, racism wasn’t something that was necessarily talked about.
As I write this, tens of thousands of people have gathered for a tenth straight day from New York City to San Francisco, in every state and at least 11 nations, to protest racism and police brutality.
Fifty-four years ago, my father-in-law set out to walk 220 miles from Memphis, Tennessee to Jackson, Mississippi. Even though the Voting Rights Act of 1965 had passed less than a year earlier, a stronghold of fear still gripped African American voters, especially in the South.
Today, we remember Absalom Jones, who was born into a world that didn’t see him deserving of love; a world that didn’t see him or his worth. Absalom Jones was born a slave in Delaware in 1746.
I’m oftentimes asked why I wrote The Color of Life, and if I’m honest with you, the first thing I’ll