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Learning from a Racial Unity Fail, Pt. 2: No More Crumbs

Starting in December, the Lord repeatedly brought me to a passage in Ezekiel 9. The prophet was recounting a vision from God in which he was carried in the Spirit to Jerusalem. Here in the holy city, Ezekiel witnessed something that would have horrified any devout Jew of his time: The glory of God lifted from the Temple and paused at its threshold. Then poof—it was gone. Before the glory departed entirely, however, the prophet saw a “man clothed in linen” holding a writing kit. The Lord commanded this man to “Go throughout the city of Jerusalem and put a

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Learning from a Racial Unity Fail, Pt. 1: It’s Deep, Y’all

The Black South African singer possessed a rich, nuanced voice. Mature in her faith and gracious in manner, she repeatedly yielded the mic to the white South African woman with a thin, average-quality voice who kept asserting a front-and-center role during worship. I watched this dynamic unfold at a small, interracial Christian healing service in Johannesburg, South Africa, several years ago, growing increasingly frustrated. The Black singer was a recording artist with a powerful presence, and she could have blown the white woman off the stage. Yet she honored the sacredness of the moment by refusing to engage in a

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The Trump Prophets Repent, All Hell Breaks Loose

The day after the Capitol riot, a prominent charismatic prophet named Jeremiah Johnson repented for prophesying that President Donald Trump would be re-elected in 2020. The response was immediate and devastating, according to a Facebook post from Johnson: “Over the last 72 hours, I have received multiple death threats and thousands upon thousands of emails from Christians saying the nastiest and most vulgar things I have ever heard toward my family and ministry. I have been labeled a coward, sellout, a traitor to the Holy Spirit, and cussed out at least 500 times. We have lost ministry partners every hour

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Repentance Is Not a Bargaining Chip

I’m starting to think my American Pentecostal-charismatic brethren have completely lost it. Our movement was birthed among the poor in Los Angeles in 1906 when the Holy Spirit visited a tiny gathering of what a local newspaper derided as “Negro washerwomen.” Led by a one-eyed Black preacher named William J. Seymour, the little church that came to be known as the Azusa Street Mission erupted into a worldwide movement that now counts more than 600 million adherents. Seymour was a follower of Jesus Christ such as we seldom see today. He had no interest in praise from men, and to