Kansas City, Politicians, Faith Leaders, and the Truth

A little over a week ago, Kansas City, MO held an election. The biggest question on the ballot surrounded the restoration of the original name of one of Kansas City's most iconic throughways, Paseo Blvd (aka: The Paseo). To understand the twisted nature of how this question landed on the ballot, one must understand context...

The Kansas City chapter of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC-KC) approached the Parks Department about renaming Paseo (brace yourself) Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. Blvd (MLK Blvd). On the surface, it seemed t) be a noble gesture toward a fallen, influential Civil Rights activist. However, the Parks Department said "no" to MLK Blvd. That should have been the end of the discussion concerning Paseo.

That would not be the case. After being rejected by the Parks Department, SCLC-KC turned to the City Council for support. The Council laid out the guidelines, which included obtaining 75% of affirmative signatures from residents and business owners on Paseo. That meant SCLC-KC needed to obtain roughly 7,000 signatures to proceed with the name change. Reportedly, SCLC-KC obtained roughly 125 signatures. Again, that should have ended the discussion concerning Paseo.

SCLC-KC continued its push, turning again to the City Council for support. The Council acted outside its authority in voting to change the name from Paseo to MLK Blvd - to the dissent of many residents.

What do you mean the Council acted outside its authority? Per the City charter and ordinance, the renaming of a boulevard lies with two groups: The Parks Department and the residents and shareholders of that boulevard. SCLC-KC, nor the Council had a right to change Paseo and by doing so, broke ordinance and public trust.

Why is Kansas City against honoring Dr. King? Honestly, the city is not against honoring Dr. King, contrary to what Rev. Al Sharpton, Rep. Emmanuel Cleaver, and their supporters propagate. Although Kansas City is one of two major cities without a street commemorating Dr. King (San Diego being the other), Kansas City has a park which leadership has allowed to lay barren (more on that later), a middle school that has been closed since 2016 and lies dormant and unused by the City or the School District, and had a hospital that closed decades ago that bore Dr. King's name. Before Paseo was hijacked, there were proposals for renaming other streets (18th, 23rd, 27th, 31st, and 63rd - to name a few), but were objected and never explored. To conceptualize why Paseo is significant to Kansas City, browse this article.

What about the people who sought to reverse the name change? The Save the Paseo Group (now named Saved the Paseo) is comprised of over 1,400 members and supporters of the cause. The backgrounds are diverse. Contrary to the pictures painted, the group has a staggering amount of Black and Latin representation. Considering the makeup of Kansas City, per the latest data is roughly 60% White, 29% Black, with other races/nationalities comprising the rest. A casual glace at the group Facebook page, reflects approximately 40% Black members, 50% White members, and the remaining 10% of other backgrounds. This movement, contrary to the statements of detractors like Dr. Vernon Howard, the president of SCLC-KC, was not racially motivated.

Why all of this fight over a street? The fight was not actually about the street, but more about people with no voice being given a voice to combat the bullying that they have endured for decades in Kansas City. The fight just happened to center upon a street and a beloved and revered Civil Rights icon. The overwhelming sentiment of people who opposed the MLK Blvd change was that they were not consulted and they were treated like they did not know what was best for them.

What is the plan now? There are several proposals in the works for meaningful and unique ways to honor Dr. King. The first is revitalizing the MLK Memorial Park that has gone largely neglected. The City Council commissioned work to be done with Brush Creek and the park was placed in a flood zone. Correcting the Brush Creek issue will allow the revitalization of the MLK Park to go forward. The second suggestion, which was presented to SCLC-KC and the Council is the name the new airport terminal in honor of Dr. King. The new airport should be fully operational in 2022. Third, there is already a petition circulating around Kansas City to rename JC Nichols Pkwy to MLK Dr. That one is a bit sticky, much like Paseo. There are other less-developed ideas. Mayor Quinton Lucas has unveiled steps all citizens should take in finding ways to honor Dr. King. There is a "90-day gathering period" where citizens and shareholders may weigh in with ideas. Stay tuned!

You Just Don't Get it, Do You?

Some people just do not get it. I feel if you do not understand the protests and the motivations behind said protests and the deeper elements, you choose not to understand. Your life context may not match that of the protesters and your mission may not call you to actively engage to matter, but contextual deviation does not absolve a petulant lack of empathy or a dearth of understanding. One is free to disagree, but not free to disregard or dismiss the plight of others.

This is a common theme for Nationalists masquerading as Christians: Fast to speak, dismissive, and self-righteous - the antithesis of what your "Christ" commanded. Which begs to question: Who is your "Christ"? You call yourselves "Pastors" yet you judge harshly instead of engaging in grace, You call yourselves "servants" yet you seek to push your own agenda at the expense of your fellow human. You call yourselves "disciples" yet you exhibit zero attributes of the Christ you claim to follow and embody.

American Christianity has always been a divisive practice since the founding of this country. That fact is becoming more common and, unfortunately, more acceptable. Racists, misogynists, perverts, and bigots no longer lurk in the shadows - they teach your children in Sunday School, lead your small groups, and preach compelling sermons on Sundays - in the name of the Risen Christ.

Some will say, "These issues have nothing to do with me; why should I care?" Simply stated: Your silence and inaction make you complicit in perpetuating the issues which hamstring your neighbor. If you have never been profiled for "driving in the wrong neighborhood," "having too much money," "living in the 'wrong' neighborhood," or simply existing - try living as a marginalized person for a week. Part of the human experience is living outside of your protected bubble and truly becoming part of a community - not just launching dismissive barbs at those who do not look, talk, react, live, or express like you.

To my Anglo-American Christian family: Will you continue to hide within your conscious/unconscious bigotry and racism - or will you, for once, seek to understand that everyone is not like you - and it's perfectly fine?

Father's Day Confession

Happy Father's Day to all the dads putting in that work. Today, I celebrate my third Father's Day and I can't stop smiling about it. Being a father, regardless of how it happens, is a gift from Heaven.
It's funny, because as I was preparing to leave work, my co-workers were wishing me a "Happy Father's Day" and I had a split-second relapse. I wondered why people were saying that to me. Then I instantly remembered - I AM SOMEONE'S DADDY! You know how you can know something, but don't know it? I KNOW I'm BB's dad, but it doesn't feel labor-intensive all the time. As I'm teaching him, he's teaching me. I was obviously grown when he was born, but he made a man out of me. That's something for which I truly cannot repay my son. He added the missing dimension to my life. He added purpose to my existence. But can I be honest? It wasn't always like this.
When I first found out BB's mom was pregnant with him, I took a free-fall into depression. I couldn't be happy, I could barely get out of bed and function each day. It was hard to minister (which I eventually put myself in time out) and life was just overwhelming me. I had a kid on the way with a person I barely knew. I was smarter than that, wasn't I? How could this happen to me of all people? The shame was immense, the pressure was daunting, and I just wanted to be free. I was hurting and drowning in silence. I was so depressed, I considered taking my own life. This is not a joke and this is not for sympathy or for dramatic effect. I was really broken. Most people are happy when they're expecting children. I couldn't muster that response. Something was really wrong with me. I was ashamed before God, my family, my colleagues... I felt I had just disappointed everyone. I continued to push forward - suicidal thoughts and all, because that's what was expected. I felt like every segment of my life was judging me and I couldn't take it anymore.
BB was born on a rainy Sunday in July, in the nine o'clock hour. I was the first one to hold him and I knew in an instant I loved him. However, I didn't feel I had anything to give him. Here I am divorced, living check to check, unfulfilled in everything in life and here I'm holding a life that's going to depend on me. The pressure was ratcheting up to about 100 at this point.
One weekend, in one of my episodes, I took a drive to one of my old neighborhoods. I had made up my mind that my disappointments shouldn't reflect on the people I loved the most. That was the day I was going to end my life. I drove down to the lake and was going to keep driving until I drove into the lake and drowned myself. I obviously wasn't myself and felt a helplessness I had never felt before. The tough-as-nails former Marine and Gospel preacher had lost his faith and couldn't seem to snap out of his storm. I got the front wheels of the car over the curb and made it to the grass. I blinked and when I opened my eyes, all I could see were those two big brown eyes that looked back at me on that rainy July morning. It's as if God, Himself, grabbed the wheel and pressed the brake and made me look at that face. I stopped and I cried. I didn't know how I was going do all this. I just wanted to give up, but the Spirit wouldn't allow me to accept defeat.
I learned that day that with God, nothing is impossible. I also learned that I'd be forfeiting the greatest honor and gift ever - of being a father. This little person has brought so much sunshine into my life! He saved my life. I can't imagine what my life would be without him. He's been my shadow, my comedian, my armor bearer, my affection-giver, my purpose.
What I'm about to say is probably contraversial, but true: I could walk away from the ministry tomorrow and be content with being BB's dad. God has blessed me immensely, more than I deserve. This Father's Day, I don't celebrate myself, but the one who has done more for me than he can comprehend. I look forward to watching movies we've seen seemingly a hundred times, to homework, to quiet time. I'm extremely thankful for my son and I will always love him.
Everyday, I'm reminded of God's grace. Even when people kick you while you're down, God's grace is still sufficient. When you're broken and without hope, His Grace and mercy covers it all. All I want to do now is live. I want to live my kid, teach him, and protect him from evil. I can do this - and so can you. Our children need us and our calling as dad's is not predicated on other's opinions, church dogma or polity, or our neighbors. Let's go Dads!

What New Year's Eve Means to Me

While people are getting dressed to hit their celebration destinations, New Year's Eve has a slightly different tone for me. I eagerly await the turn of the year, like most, but 17 years ago today, I preached my first sermon in South Carolina. It's amazing, as I think about it now, because when I took my place behind that sacred desk, in a polo shirt and slacks, I wasn't sure I really wanted to walk this way, but I knew I was called by God. It was an awkward position, but I was obedient to God and my watchcare pastor. It was the longest 12 minutes of my life (and probably the second-worst sermon I've preached to-date), but God, as always, was faithful.

I still wonder what God sees in me, that He allows me to walk this way: to teach, preach, prophesy, and lead. I never asked for any of it (not did/do I deserve it), but yet He empowers me to do so daily.

I think about how sat me under the appropriate leader for every step of my journey. I thank God for them continually, because like God, they never gave up on me (even when I gave up on myself).

I celebrate this 17 years, not because I'm so excellent and awesome, but because God is. He's supplied me with a great support system that won't let me throw in the towel, parents that support my growth, siblings that push me, and a son that reminds me what it means to love as the Creator loves.

It's funny, I still have that same nervousness today as I did 17 years ago. I still can't eat before preaching without getting sick, I still second-guess God's message and panic, but most importantly, I get excited to share God's message to anyone who will listen.

Happy preacherversary to me!

An Incredible Season in My Life

It had to happen this way (and I’m still struggling to be okay with it). I knew when I first got to FBC that I would be for a short time (Pastor T even told me from the beginning). I had a lot to learn and needed an environment where it was okay to be myself, to heal, and to refocus on life, ministry, and life in ministry. The nearly-six-years I spent on Chelsea Drive were some of my best in a 16-year life in ministry. I figured my next move would be to start a church. Never did I imagine I’d make a u-turn (still trying to rationalize it in my mind, but God knows).

Many who don’t know would see my time at FBC was “running,” or “hiding,” or some other silly description. I had specific needs at the time and in retrospect, I was a danger to myself and to that particular ministry. I couldn’t stay put and poison the environment my dad (and Pastor) worked so hard to build and grow. I had to go. Thankfully, in my going, I met my now-former Pastor, Pastor T (aka: my Stepfather in the Gospel).

Pastor T was exactly what my personality, approach to ministry, and mindset needed. He knew how to “coach me up” and refused to let me quit, despite a few stumbles along the way. He poured into me a tremendous amount of knowledge, understanding, and unlocked depths within me that I didn’t know existed. Most importantly, he prayed for me. He fostered my gifts and constantly encouraged me to develop and share them. He also instilled in me that being “saved” wasn’t being perfect, but knowing that I’ve been forgiven and purposed for greater.

My time at FBC didn’t just start and end with Pastor T – there was support all around. I had the opportunity to match wits, discuss, debate, and improve along some of the brilliant ministerial minds I’ve known. All different walks of life, different stages of their journeys, all under one roof. It was a challenge at times, but I became better for it all. I made some genuine friends along this leg of my journey and I’m thankful to God each day for each of them. I think we’ve shed enough tears together to fill a few buckets – but if you can’t cry with your brothers, sisters, aunts, and  uncles, who can you cry with?

When I got to FBC, I was already 10 years into ministry (including my start in South Carolina and my dad’s church in KC) and didn’t realize I hadn’t even scratched the surface. It was a humbling transition, but a necessary one. Each person I came into contact with added something valuable to my Christian experience that I can take to the next leg of the journey.

I preached my last sermon as a member of FBC on February 21, 2016. It was a bittersweet day. I was emotionally, spiritually, and physically drained. I didn’t preach for the applause, the back-pats, or the adulation. I preached for God’s glory. One person came as a candidate for baptism and my heart was made glad. I told only a handful of people of my departure (aside from my Pastor) at that point. I didn’t want a fuss or an uproar. I came to The Ship quietly and wanted to leave the same way. I’ve never been an attention-seeker, so it would’ve just been awkward.

I will miss the Friendship Baptist Church family. You all have been a positive force in my life and I love you all for it. You all helped me rediscover the beauty of Christian ministry and restored my joy in spreading the Gospel message. Continue to pray for Pastor T and his family. Continue to keep his hands raised. Continue to reach souls with Jesus and may God continue to bless you all.

Rev. M. A. Brown

Every Day is a Day of Learning

I’ve been thinking all this week about situations, decisions, outcomes, and what I expect from myself. As you can imagine, that’s a lot of thinking (and is still ongoing). Sometimes it’s funny how things work (and sometimes funny means devastating). There are days I have to laugh to keep from crying or letting a few cuss words slip (I don’t cuss, but under extreme duress, you’ll never know what will come out of your mouth – ask Peter).

 

Now, for the extra-churchy folks, this entry may not be for you. You know who you are – the one that’s “so spiritual and heavenly that you’re not a bit of earthly good,” as my grandmother says. If you’re still reading, you’ve been warned...

 

Have you ever thought about events in your life and wished there were some things you could change, but then you wonder what would’ve been affected and how that would impact you now? Well, I’ll be the honest one and admit it. It makes me think about the tagged “Prodigal Son” story in the Bible (Luke 15:11-32) and how the son, who was probably extremely talented, gifted, and full of promise wanted and received too much, too soon. He was so eager to start his life of freedom that he neglected to count the costs and consequences for his actions. He just knew that he wanted something more than what he was currently receiving.

 

I looked at my own life, the folly of some of the decisions I’ve made, and the consequences (some still affect me today). What if I had been more patient in my career choices? What if I had been more patient in my family life? What if I had been more honest about how things wore on my heart? What if I had tempered my ambitions? The one trait the young man in the story and I shared was lacking patience. His object lesson came by losing everything and being humbled to a point where he just wanted to serve alongside his father’s servants – just so he could have food and shelter. My object lesson on lack of patience has been my son and things surrounding him. I’ve been able to slow down, see the bigger picture, and make better decisions. However, like a quarterback that’s thrown a pick-six, there are some things in my life I want a do-over – and unlike the quarterback, there are times when God does allow a do-over.

 

I’m thankful that God isn’t like us in the regard that we shut down people and opportunities, while God gives us multiple opportunities. It may not be the exact same scenario, but when another opportunity is presented, it’s wise to utilize it to the fullest.

 

MB

Okay, I Get it - But Seriously???

Another week, another slew of fines for the Pittsburgh Steelers for “uniform violations.” If you haven’t been keeping track, different members of the Steelers have been fined for showing their support of and raising awareness of cancer and domestic violence, respectively. Each of these men have been touched, personally by these issues and wanted to use their platforms as NFL players to create a stir. Unfortunately, it created an undesirable outcome and each man (William Gay, Cameron Heyward, and DeAngelo Williams) a little lighter in the pocket.

William Gay was fined for wearing purple cleats against Arizona in support of Domestic Violence Awareness Month. That may be one the NFL wanted to turn a blind eye to given its recent track record of player-related domestic incidents over the last several years. You have a man here who was personally affected by domestic violence when his step-father shot and killed his mother when he was 7-years-old. He’s had to live with that nightmare for most of his life. He had to bear the brunt of “when domestic violence goes too far.” This was far from a “look at me moment.” Gay has been involved in public service announcements and has spent his own time advocating domestic violence prevention. He doesn’t go out of his way to make a spectacle, rather he makes a gesture to show that domestic violence prevention is still at the forefront of his mind – even when on the gridiron. The NFL’s response? A $5,787 fine. Who comes up with these amounts, anyway? This is not a good look for the League, as the most recent incidents with Ray Rice, Greg Hardy, and Johnny Manziel (currently under investigation) are still fresh in the minds of the public.

DeAngelo Williams, whom the Steelers signed this past offseason, lost his mother to breast cancer and has done work to promote awareness and has worked independently to raise money for breast cancer research and recently paid for over 50 women to get mammograms. His tribute to his mother and others in his life affected by the disease is to dye the tips of his locs pink and painting his toenails pink. It’s not my first choice of a way of tribute, but who am I to knock what this man has done and continues to do. Williams was fined $5,787 for writing “We will find a cure” and a pink ribbon on his eyeblack. Williams petitioned the league to allow him to wear pink accessories throughout the season in support of breast cancer awareness. Heaven forbid the uniform guidelines prevent someone from making a decent gesture! So, because the NFL only wants to acknowledge Breast Cancer Awareness Month during October, like breast cancer only matters in October, players, staff, and fans should only focus on it during those four Sundays in October? Got it.

Cameron Heyward, Craig Heyward’s son, was fined twice (before having the second one rescinded) for writing the words “Iron Head” on his eyeblack. For those not familiar, “Iron Head” Heyward played fullback in the NFL for 11 seasons (Saints, Bears, Falcons, Rams, and Colts) and died of bone cancer (from a chordoma) in 2006. The League rescinded the second fine after they struck a “deal” with the younger Heyward to monetize a cause that was personal and devastating. How insensitive is that?

I understand the NFL is a multi-billion dollar business that can seemingly make its own rules and the men who play in the league should consider themselves “privileged for the opportunity to play this game and make a living.” That nonsense aside, this multi-billion dollar corporation (that is somehow tax-exempt) has a tremendous platform and the ability to embrace so many different causes and do so much good, but it spits in the face of everything that’s decent and sensible. There are those that will say the NFL doesn’t have a domestic violence problem, and “statistics” may support that statement, but the NFL does have a “woman” problem in that the League doesn’t value the impacts, especially financially, that women have on its business. Throwing women a “bone” a few weeks out of the season, by donning pink accessories and promoting the sale of the same on your website at a markup that’s above your normal practice, isn’t valuing them, it’s borderline patronizing and insulting.

MB

Beyond the Packaging

I like giving gifts to people. I, however, hate wrapping – which is why I’m eternally grateful to the genius(es) who made gift bags culturally acceptable. Why am I talking about (gift) wrapping outside of the Holiday Season? Glad you asked. I was meditating earlier in the day and I was troubled by how so many people can miss out on what seems to be an obvious blessing on their lives. To be completely honest, it’s not just other people, but the author included.

 

I actually thought about how many relationships, opportunities, and other things I missed out on by being close-minded, short-sighted, or not trusting discernment. In cases like these, our natural eyes tend to give us only a portion of the story. That’s the difference between sight and vision. Sight allows you to see the surface and perceive what’s tangible, but vision allows you to perceive the intangible.

 

I’m a believer that “presentation matters,” but presentation plays to one’s sight. If what’s being presented isn’t appealing to the sight, it can be easily discarded, overlooked, devalued, or perceived as useless (ouch). How would we feel if God operated in that manner? Thankfully for us, He doesn’t (1 Samuel 16:7).

 

Looking back over my childhood, some of the more teachable moments happened in the grocery store. This particular grocery store offered discounts to people who bought scratched and dented food (dented cans and boxes that didn’t compromise the food itself). The cans may have looked ugly, but the food inside was delicious (except the tuna – yuck!). Those dented cans and boxes remind me of people: If we can get past the exterior of some, we can truly be blessed by what they provide from the inside.

 

I began to wonder: How many people have I thrown away, looked past, or not given the proper opportunities to – all because of the packaging???

 

My prayer is that God allows me to be more discerning, to see past the packaging and appreciate the innate gifts that God has placed in each of His creations.

 

What did you think about this morning?

 

-MB

God is Faithful (Part 1 of...)

There’s nothing more I love, on this side of glory, than my son, Benjamin. Since he’s been part of this life, he’s been the most awesome blessing. I’ve seen him grow and develop and he’s changed so much in just 14 months. Today was a real test for my baby boy (and me). He had surgery and nervous doesn’t even begin to describe how I was feeling early this morning. I pledged to make it my number one priority to protect him as best as I can, but even Dad has cracks in his solid exterior. This morning was one full of prayer, waiting, and fighting negative thoughts.

 

My big boy came through the surgery with flying colors (a little groggy from the anesthesia and hungry, but he handled it like a boss, according to his attending nurses). Buda’s surgery was a test of my faith, as I really didn’t want to go through with it, but God showed me, once again, that it’s He that ultimately protects Buda.

 

As Christians, our faith should be steeped in God, not in medicine, surgery, or ideologies – those are just tools used by us, under God’s hand to accomplish His will.

 

I’m thankful to God that Buda is resting comfortably and eating applesauce. Soon, he’ll be back to ripping and running – as I’ve been accustomed to over the last couple months. Soon, my nerves will return to normal baseline. Shoutout to Buda’s mom for watching over him. We feud and fuss, but after serving God, Buda is our priority. Keep our little guy in your prayers.

 

-MB

Blog Through it, Brown

These last few days have been something. We had yet another baby lose his life before it began. I stayed quiet about it yesterday, because it cut deeply. I can't begin to imagine how that family feels. It made me squeeze Buda a little tighter for a little longer today. I don't know what I'd do if he were taken from me. I don't even want to think about it. Children are so fragile and precious (no matter how much they misbehave). Their lives matter.

Another day, another officer-related homicide. Dang, the library isn't even safe for a person of color. It doesn't matter what led up to the altercation, it wasn't worth ending the man's life - especially with children in close proximity. I swear, as long as you wear a badge, you can get away with murder.

Tonight, I had my own run-in with law enforcement. Talk about tense. I could've fired off at the mouth and y'all could be seeing me on the news. I thought about my boys and the misses and toned it down. I had to pray within myself to keep from reacting the way I felt justified in acting and see the bigger picture. That, friends, is wisdom. I thank God for it. I'm okay. A little irritated, but God is great and if it's his will I'll get to see everyone tomorrow.

If you're reading this, be safe, keep God first, and love on someone.

MB