Month: May 2023

Acts 2:1-21

Pentecost begins a process of prefiguring, a form of change-making that is often overlooked in the tapestry of organizers and activists in North America today. We can often call to mind the change-making strategies of activism and organizing and many of us work in one or the other. Activism in protests, marches, emails, phone calls, etc. gets us in the streets advocating for a change. Organizing involves building power to make change with policymakers and maintain coalitions. Prefiguring is something different entirely. More or less, it’s acting as if the world you want already exists and living accordingly. 

Peter’s speech and the radical acts of community-building that follow prefigure the kind of world God wants to see, that God intends for the world. Peter recalls one of the masters of prefiguring, the Hebrew prophets, Joel. Joel and Peter claim that God will pour out the divine spirit on all people, a great equalizing and liberating act, which is what happens not just at Pentecost but throughout the Acts of the Apostles. In the sharing of possessions, the inclusion of new people, and the literal demolishing of prisons, God’s reign breaks into the world in the midst of the apostles living as if it was already here. 

The same task is before us now. We won’t abolish the systems of prison and policing tomorrow, but that doesn’t mean we can’t start living in the alternatives we imagine today. What can your community do to live in the future God wants to see? How can your community live in a world beyond punishment and retribution? What can you put into place now that shows us the world God wants? 

Pentecost began early in the morning, so there’s no need to delay. 

Wesley Spears-Newsome (he/him/his) is a writer and Baptist pastor in North Carolina.

Acts 1:6-14

What is the Holy Spirit? It is mysterious, uncontained, uncontrolled. Though Christian orthodoxy declares the Spirit a coequal member of the Trinity, one with God, far less ink (and blood) has been spilled to define and defend the Holy Spirit.

I am struck here by these simple instructions from Jesus: “It is not for you to know the times or periods that God has set by God’s own authority. But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit has come upon you; and you will be my witnesses… to the ends of the earth.”

What is this Holy Spirit we have been given? It gives us power. It travels with us. It wills us to be witnesses to the ends of the earth. It draws our eyes from the skies towards the earth. 

I take immense comfort in the unknowability and invisibility of the Spirit. So much of our work takes place out of sight. Whether it is organizing in the depths of maximum security prisons, the confidential work of transformative justice that can never come to light, or just the boredom of meetings and Zoom calls and everything else that makes the movement turn. But nevertheless the Spirit is at work. Especially when we cannot see it or feel it. 

The “abolition spirit” (borrowing from Joshua Dubler and Vincent Lloyd) is not contained by one faith, in fact it is the remaking of faith traditions in the crucible of struggle. We do not have to look to heaven to find God’s Spirit, we turn our eyes to the earth and to each other. The Holy Spirit of abolition and transformation does not ask for our comprehension, just our acting in power and our witnessing to the truth.

Rev. Jay Bergen is a pastor at Germantown Mennonite Church in Philadelphia, and a volunteer organizer with the Coalition to Abolish Death By Incarceration (CADBI), a campaign fighting to end life sentences and heal communities across Pennsylvania.

Acts 17:22-31

Continuing in Acts this week, we find Paul preaching to the intellectual elite in Athens. The rhetorical strategy in this sermon is worth reflecting on. First, he appeals to a point of connection, noting that they are religious and worship an “unnamed God.” When he describes the unnamed God, he uses philosophy they would recognize and admire, even quoting one of their poets. Basically, Paul is speaking “elitism,” showing them that he is fluent in their epistemological discourses. This is clearly a way to gain credibility with the crowd and secure their attention, but he doesn’t continue pandering to them. He uses his connection and credibility to unsettle their worldview, calling them to repentance in anticipation of the arrival of the person God has appointed to judge justly… a person their justice system had recently condemned. Finally, he up-ends their expectations by saying that the “proof” of this is God raising this man from the dead. 

That last statement would be shocking to them, because resurrection was not something the Greco-Roman educated elites hoped for. It was the hope of the uneducated masses and oppressed Jews, and represented a perspective that the intellectuals would deride as utopian, magical thinking. Resurrection was not an epistemological proof this audience would have recognized. Paul begins by wooing them, but quickly makes it clear that he is more interested in the kind of justice the oppressed hope for than their disembodied philosophies. His imagination is not fettered by their rationalism or pragmatism. His knowledge has been transformed and freed by the vision of a condemned, executed man vindicated and raised by the God who defines all reality and upholds all existence. There is no justice beyond God’s judgment, which is entrusted to a criminal. 

Abolitionists need to walk this kind of line as well. Even as we familiarize ourselves with the most current research, we cannot be afraid to look foolish. We must engage the intellectual elites. We must engage the pragmatists and rationalists. Yet we also cannot allow that to keep us from boldly proclaiming the gospel of the resurrection of an executed criminal, a man who will come in power and overturn the state’s version of “justice.” Abolitionists pay attention to the insights that can be gained from science, philosophy, and secular academic institutions, but we first and foremost give attention to the hopes, dreams, and knowledge of the people languishing in prisons and poverty.

Sarah Lynne Gershon (she/her) is an MDiv/MTS student, DOC pastor, and lives at the Bloomington Catholic Worker. 

Acts 7:55-60

It is not difficult to see carceral logic at work in the Acts of the Apostles. The frequent response of Roman authorities to the activities of early Christians was prison. Prison existed (as it does today) not just as retribution for alleged criminal activity, but to silence dissent, break up movements, and stifle leadership in marginalized communities. The same logic is at work in Stephen’s execution. The response to a potentially dangerous ideology is to destroy the source. In that way carceral logic comes for everyone, not just those we may consider different from us (i.e., s criminals, actually guilty or not). 

Before any further reflection in that direction, a word about the anti-Semitism present in the Acts of the Apostles is required. Throughout the Book of Acts, we see references to “the Jews” and their supposed spiritual deficiencies and even their “jealousy” of the Christians. The author is communicating these stories with a strong ideological bias and we need to be aware of it. Luke has a perspective that requires the Christian sect to be religiously triumphant and he wants it to become the main expression of Jewish faith (as does Paul who wrote most of the New Testament books). Over time, that has been used in anti-Semitic ways and has led to violence and persecution of the Jewish people. We need to critique Luke when preaching Acts in this respect, because much of the carceral logic at work Luke lays at the feet of the Jewish community rather than the ones actually practicing, enforcing, and supporting incarceration: the Roman state. Be cautious when critiquing the prisons and practices of incarceration in Acts so not to fall into anti-Semitism by mistake. The Jewish community was not in charge of the violent mechanisms of the state. 

Rather, consider directing the question of the persistence of incarceration and retribution at ourselves. Luke says that Stephen’s audience “covered their ears” to avoid hearing the truth of what Stephen had to say. How often do we neglect the cries for justice from prisons? How often is it more convenient for us to ignore stories from death row? How often do we cover our ears to avoid hearing the truth? Abolition of prisons is the inevitable conclusion of our Scriptures, especially in Acts where God is quite literally tearing down prisons. Often, however, it’s easier to cover our ears and ignore it.  

Wesley Spears-Newsome (he/him/his) is a writer and Baptist pastor in North Carolina.