“Reimagining God in an Age of Chaos and War: Ten Questions for Those Committed to Peace, Justice, and Human Dignity”

“Reimagining God in an Age of Chaos and War: Ten Questions for Those Committed to Peace, Justice, and Human Dignity”

As stewards of the earth and its resources, we live in a world marked by war, alienation, displacement, and profound human suffering. In this context, questions of God, faith, and the nature of divine presence, justice, and responsibility in our midst and the world extend far beyond the boundaries of church or religion. They reach policymakers, activists, scholars, and everyday people, as well as anyone seeking meaning, peace, accountability, justice, and hope.

The following questions are not only for Christians, theologians, religious leaders, or people of faith. They are for anyone concerned with global peace, global security, and the protection of human rights and human dignity at the moment and in the future.

  1. What kind of God-language do people of the world need to hear now?
  2. What does faith look like after war, migration, exile, suffering, and displacement?
  3. Can Christianity in the United States and the West move beyond cultural dominance and political power without losing its spiritual integrity, and what would this mean for the global pursuit of justice and peace?
  4. How can religious traditions (i.e., Christianity, Islam) remain faithful to their core values while being liberated from histories of empire and domination?
  5. In what ways do religious institutions and societies misunderstand God and the liberating message at the heart of faith traditions?
  6. How has Western Christianity been complicit in systems of violence, empire, and domination, and what does repentance and reconciliation require now—toward future hope and human flourishing?
  7. Can people of faith proclaim a God of justice without reducing the divine to political ideology?
  8. What does faith look like for displaced, colonized, and marginalized peoples in a fractured world?
  9. Where is God in the suffering of the innocent during war and global crisis?
  10. Is it possible to speak of liberating hope after devastation and dehumanization without trivializing human suffering and death ?

These are not questions seeking easy answers or quick solutions. Rather, they are invitations to rethink God, biblical and global Christianity not from positions of comfort, control, and power, but from the edges of history and the life in the margins, where faith is most tested and most needed. These are questions that invite us to think deeply about the relationship between faith and culture, Christianity and global politics, theology and human experience, God and human suffering, Christian discipleship and human liberation.

Moreover, these questions invite all of us, regardless of background, religious traditions, or political position, to wrestle with the moral, spiritual, political, and human implications of our shared global crisis. As we seek an answer to these existential challenges or questions, we should always hold to the basic principle that all life is sacred and all humans are equal, and that protecting human dignity is a shared ethical responsibility.

The harsh reality is that our greatest adversary is often the person closest to us. Yet biblical wisdom calls us to love our neighbor as ourselves and to respond with goodness and compassion even to those who mistreat us. Similarly, the relentless pursuit of greed, power, and glory by the world’s dominant nations blinds them to a simple truth: humanity is one global family, and every nation is a neighbor to the others.

“Children of Light, Children of Peace”

“So Jesus said to them, ‘The light is among you for a little while longer. Walk while you have the light, lest darkness overtake you. The one who walks in the darkness does not know where he is going. While you have the light, believe in the light, that you may become [children] sons of light.’”
—John 12:35-36

The children of light are also children of God and peacemakers of this world (Matthew 5:9).
Those who do not walk in the light of Christ are not advocates of communal and global peace. They do not follow the way of the Messiah Jesus and are alienated from the ethical knowledge of God.

Those who have identified with Jesus morally and ethically do not endorse the political order and economic decisions that produce chaos or disorder in their community—i.e. political unrest, human suffering, alienation, death—nor do they stand on the side of global darkness and international oppression towards vulnerable countries and peoples. They are the light of the world and unapologetic about their moral convictions and Jesus-centered leadership.

“What Life Has Taught Me at 48”

“What Life Has Taught Me at 48”

At 48 years old, life has taught me many lessons, such as clarity is more valuable than approval or recognition, and that conviction is the bedrock of one’s character. There was a time when I tried to explain myself to everyone, to be understood by all. At this age, I understand that inner peace often begins with self-assessment, and it is also where explanation ends. I also realized that being humble is an expression of inner strength and practical wisdom.

Life has taught me to center my life on what matters most: loving God, following Jesus, and loving people. These are no longer abstract ideals, but daily commitments that shape how I live, lead, think, and relate to others. They’re foundational cores to the good and fulfilled life. I have learned to love my family more intentionally, that is, to be a present and faithful father to my children, and a committed and loving husband to my wife. These roles are not secondary to my purpose; they are at the very heart of it and linked to my identity and what I am becoming.

For some critics, loving God and being a committed follower of Christ in this post-post- modern world pauses a grave threat to a life deeply committed to serious thinking, rigorous academic research, and honest writing or scholarship. Personally, I have never seen a contradiction between the two: the life of faith and the life of the mind, being a committed follower of Christ and being a serious scholar. I don’t claim to speak for every Christian thinker, but for me it is the Spirit of God who illuminates the mind towards new discovery, new knowledge, fresh interpretive reading and insight, guiding the human intellect hermeneutically to make sense of complex ideas and translating them into practical wisdom and solutions toward human transformation and understanding. True scholarship should prioritize wisdom and the common good—virtues stemmed from the work of the Spirit—and that human welfare is an essential characteristic of innovative research and transformative writing and education.

Moreover, I’ve come to value human relationships differently and to be more sensitive to the human experience and the fragility of life in this world. I confess that to be a good and supportive friend and colleague is not simply about proximity, but about presence, loyalty, and integrity. I understand that not every relationship is meant to last or endure, but every relationship has something to teach, and that every person matters. Human life is not only sacred. It deserves protection and care at all cost.

Life has also refined my understanding of the art of leadership and collaboration. It is not about titles; rather, it is about responsibility, service, and mentorship. Leadership is about how you steward trust, how you show up when it is difficult, and how you remain grounded when expectations are high. It is about how you model courage and mutuality in decision-making and coaching others. Finally, it is also how you manage people from an ethic of care and being in solidarity with others in time of need or grief.

At this stage in life, I am committed to living a moral life shaped by compassion, justice, hospitality, and kindness toward all people, especially the poor and the marginalized. I believe in serving and defending the cause of the vulnerable, and in doing what is morally right and ethically sound even when it comes at a cost. From that perspective, I have learned the importance of speaking with courage, of taking a stand for justice and for what is right. Silence is not always wisdom or disorientation. Sometimes, personal conviction requires a voice and a position. You must take a stand against the forces of darkness and the power of human cynicism!

At the same time, life has taught me the quiet strength of humility and the art of listening to others. To wrap oneself in humility is to remain teachable, to seek wisdom in all things, and to recognize that growth does not have a point of destination nor is it a straight route. It’s also to acknowledge others and recognize their equal value, knowing that they also have something meaningful to contribute to the common good and human flourishing. Hence, I am learning to live a life of conviction, integrity, and commitment, where my values and my actions are aligned with my character and what I hope to become and model for others. I don’t believe success should be measured by recognition, but by faithfulness and commitment: to my vocation/calling, to my values and principles, and to the people entrusted to my care.

I am also committed to cultivating both the intellectual life and the life of faith and understanding that true wisdom requires both reflection and devotion, intellectual commitment and praxis, and study and spiritual formation. Ideas should shape how one lives and acts in this world. I am also aware that I am morally responsible for my own ideas or the way they shaped my past and transform both my present and future. Perhaps most importantly, life has taught me that the human experience is severely fractured, but healing is possible and ongoing. I believe that an individual can be accomplished and still be becoming. Life itself continues to evolve with us and in us, and that the human experience is intrinsic to this life of transition, process, transformation, and becoming.

At 48, I am less interested in proving my worth, value, and humanity. I am more pessimistic about the future and more intentional about discovering the unknown and navigating the uncertainty. I am more committed to becoming a better human being and more grounded in my faith as an anchor and sanctuary. Above all, I seek to continue living my life to the glory of God.

Book Announcement

Vanderbilt University Press just announced December 15, 2026, as the publication date of my forthcoming book, “For the Sake of Black People and the Common Good: A Biography of Jean Price-Mars.” The book cover is coming soon.

Here’s the book description from their page:

“Jean Price-Mars (1876–1969) was a doctor, teacher, diplomat, and one of Haiti’s most visionary intellectuals. This biography offers the first comprehensive look at his writings, revealing a thinker dedicated to the transformation of Haiti, the advancement of his people, and the broader Black Diaspora.

From his rigorous education and intellectual formation to his engagement with social, political, and cultural issues, Price-Mars championed women’s empowerment, gender equality, and transformative leadership. He reinterpreted the Haitian Revolution and Dessalines’ legacy while articulating Pan-Africanist ideals that connected Haiti to the wider Black world.

A modernist scholar and pluralist, Price-Mars affirmed the validity of all religions while remaining independent of any single tradition. His humanistic spirituality and radical epistemology reimagined race, culture, and nation-building, offering a new vision for Haiti and the possibilities of Black achievement across the Americas.

This book presents a full portrait of Price-Mars as a thinker, reformer, and moral visionary, and a man whose lifelong mission was nothing less than the birth of a new people and the pursuit of the common good.”

“Sanctuary from the Storm”

“Sanctuary from the Storm”

Love will choose you again.
It searched for you in all the wrong places,
where lovers lost hope, passion, and direction,
but in me it found a resting place for you.

I have seen your heart tremble.
The wind stole passion,
buried attraction in the sand of forgetting.
You walked away.
Love weakened.

Falling in love does not have to be frightening.
You do not have to hide what your heart desires,
run from what is gentle,
a sanctuary for your love.

I am not thunder,
but a rainy season to calm your storm.
I am right here,
ready to catch you
whenever your heart needs lifting.

I am that sanctuary
when the noise is too loud,
the wind too violent
for your peace.

But before you go too far,
tell me, darling,
what about the promises you made?
Were they only words,
or did they carry the weight of us?

Will you silence your heart,
bury what we were,
pretend our memories did not bind us,
did not shelter us
from the storm of what they said about us?

They bind me still
to your morning smile,
to the quiet way you looked at me,
to your inner thoughts.

Loving you at a distance
was never my desire,
yet I whisper
so that I may love you still,
finding a pathway home.

I can love you like that.
Not loudly.
Not desperately.
But faithfully.

You do not have to leave again
searching for love in all the wrong places
when it already knows your name in me.

These hands will hold you.
This heart will protect you.

And if you grow tired of running,
if love frightens you again,
remember

Love will choose you.
And I will be here.

“The Space Between Goodbye and Return”

“The Space Between Goodbye and Return”

She uses her silence to thunder
a quiet storm signaling
she has surrendered their romance,
the deep passion
that once turned two separate smiles
into one shared gesture of love.

Her gentle turning away
says what silent words refuse:
he is no longer her desire,
her light in darkness.
He becomes the invisible ex,
folded away softly,
like a love note she no longer reads.

Yet her spirit is not at peace
with what her mind insists upon.
Her heart longs for him
like a deer searching for fresh water
to quiet its thirst.

Day by day, her calls grow fewer.
Her messages fade into absence.
Even her quiet watching from afar
becomes rare.
She reclaims emotional control
through distance,
a deliberate withdrawal
of her presence.

But in unguarded moments,
when pride loosens its grip
and longing quietly returns,
she misses him.
She imagines reconnecting—
heart to heart,
smile to smile,
soul to soul—
as they once were
before distance blurred their names.

His calm unsettles her.
His self-control confuses her.
He does not chase.
He does not beg for affection
as when he was lost
in the depth of his devotion,
nearly losing himself
in loving her.

Instead, he walks away in peace.

No fight.
No anger.
No resentment.

Only a return
to his confidence,
his self-worth:
to a love that still shines,
not loudly,
but steady
behind his smile.

And somewhere
in the quiet space
between goodbye and return,
they both remain.

“Suspended Moments”

“Suspended Moments”

My mind remembers those suspended moments we created,
those instances when we surrendered to become one,
the hours we lived inside each other’s dream
to stop time.

You said to me:
make love to me—
so I may embrace tenderness and gentleness,
so I may savor your kiss,
not just the climax of love,
I want our bodies to experience the passion of our soul,
the attention of our hearts,
as if we fill our senses
with a thousand flavors of love.

When we kiss, our lips fuse.
Our tongues hesitate,
silence speaks
as if time helds its breath
stretches of stillness and eternity
between passion and knowledge
before exploring the depths of each other,
and the dream of becoming one.

“Where Your Steps Meet My Eyes”

“Where Your Steps Meet My Eyes”

The way I look at you
when your feet begin moving toward me
is not a casual glance.
It’s as if time slows just enough
for my eyes to receive you fully.
I catch every movement,
every subtle gesture,
and somehow each one feels unforgettable.

My eyes meet your steps halfway,
as if there is a quiet understanding between them.
Each movement you make
arrives before you do.
Every turn you take feels inviting —
not loud, not forced,
just a gentle pull.

When you walk,
there’s a natural cadence to you,
a rhythm that doesn’t try,
yet commands attention.
A quiet confidence.
A steady grace.

You carry yourself in such beautiful alignment
that your whole body seems to move in agreement with itself,
nothing out of place,
nothing uncertain.
There’s harmony in your shape,
unity in your stride,
balance in every intentional step.

I find myself watching,
gently,
tenderly.
It is presence,
companionship,
unity.

My eyes lose control,
not just because you’re beautiful,
but because the way you move feels
meaningful,
resonant,
eternal.

And in that space
where your steps meet my eyes,
everything quiets,
everything aligns,
and I am fully present with you.