I crossed the line today.  The line between Maryville and Alcoa that is.  Some people try to ignore this line and pretend it doesn't exist.  Some just don't care.  But there is a line.  It is a line that separates communities.  Segregates communities we could say.  On one side you find mostly affluent white folks, on the other - lower income families, white and black.  I am not sure why this line exists or how it got there, but I can't deny that it divides.  I crossed the line today and walked with those in Blount Co. that don't want the line there.  As we walked we talked about the line and how we can erase it.  We had to admit, to our shame, that the line is even in our churches.  And the line begins to end first in the body of Christ.  

We must keep on crossing the line until it is covered in the dust of the shoes of the faithful.  And we must find the brush and paint that drew the line and use it to paint the brokenness of neighborhoods that was bred in the shadow of the line.   

Churches must begin to work together to put brushes and paint into the hands of the young and teach them they don't have to keep on painting lines.  Lines that divide, and lines that box them in and imprison them.  They can paint the future of their own lives and of their communities.  Churches must work together to give the parents a bucket of water and a brillo pad and teach them to erase the lines that they painted in and around their families.  

And lest we seek to change the world without changing ourselves we must wake up and see the lines in our own lives and cross them.

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