If I Perish, I Perish The Prophet’s Call To Speak

“Then Esther sent this reply to Mordecai: ‘Go, gather together all the Jews who are in Susa, and fast for me. Do not eat or drink for three days, night or day. My attendants and I will fast as you do. When this is done, I will go to the king, even though it is against the law. And if I perish, I perish.’”

Jeremiah 20:9 (NIV)

“But if I say, ‘I will not mention his word or speak anymore in his name,’ his word is in my heart like a fire, a fire shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in; indeed, I cannot.”

Amos 5:24 (NIV)

“But let justice roll on like a river, righteousness like a never-failing stream!”

Church, we have come to the end of Black History Month.

This month, I have preached you three sermons that some of you wish I hadn’t. I talked about the ugly places where people were left stranded without water. I named names of people who died in government custody and on our streets. I told you our history is being erased from museums and textbooks. I said pain can be turned into power, and I meant it.

I know some of you are uncomfortable. I know some of you think I should stick to saving souls and leave politics alone. I know some of you wish your preacher would just preach the gospel and stop talking about justice.

But church, I have to tell you something. I cannot be silent. Like Jeremiah said, God’s word is in my heart like a fire, shut up in my bones. I am weary of holding it in. Indeed, I cannot.

So this morning, on this last Sunday of Black History Month, I’m going to preach one more sermon. And it’s about what a preacher does when God calls them to speak truth in a time when people don’t want to hear it. It’s about Esther’s words: “If I perish, I perish.”

A Strange Path to This Pulpit

Let me tell you how I got here. Not to this church, but to this moment. To this calling. To this word that’s been burning in my belly since I was born.

I grew up during the Civil Rights era. I experienced segregation firsthand. I know what it’s like to be told you can’t drink from that fountain, can’t sit in that section, can’t go to that school. I know what it’s like to be treated as less than human because of the color of your skin.

I know pain. I was a divorced single mother raising five sons and a daughter. Five Black boys in a world that sees them as threats before it sees them as children. Every time they walked out that door, I prayed. Every time they came back home, I thanked God. Because I knew—I know—what this world does to Black bodies.

I’ve known hunger. I’ve known what it’s like to need something as simple and essential as water and not have access to it. I’ve lived in the ugly places we’ve been talking about all month. I didn’t just preach about them. I survived them.

And somewhere along this strange path, God put a call on my life. A call to preach. But not just to preach salvation—to preach justice. To preach the full gospel of Jesus Christ, who came to set captives free, to heal the brokenhearted, to proclaim good news to the poor, to release the oppressed.

Now I’m working to become a doctor of ministry, and this call has only gotten stronger. God is dealing with me in ways I can’t ignore. The word is in my bones. The fire is burning. And I have to speak.

Like Esther, I didn’t choose this path. Like Esther, I ended up in a position I never expected. And like Esther, I’m being asked the question: Who knows but that you have come to this position for such a time as this?

For Such a Time as This

Church, let’s be clear about what time this is. This is a time when people are being left to die on highways without food or water. This is a time when immigrants with serious medical conditions are dying in custody because they can’t get care. This is a time when eight people have been killed in one city in one month. This is a time when our history is being removed from museums and banned from schools.

This is a time when the gap between rich and poor is wider than it’s been in generations. This is a time when mothers are still praying every time their Black sons walk out the door. This is a time when clean water is still not accessible to everyone in the richest country in the world. This is a time when voting rights are under attack. This is a time when truth itself is contested.