We all can see the writing on the wall. Donald J. Trump and his authoritarian administration will stop at seemingly nothing but the hand of God to turn back the hands of time to a day reminiscent of segregation, hate, and fear.
The rolling back of DEI initiatives and uber aggressive federal workforce scale back has left hundreds of thousands of Americans without work.
The attacks on free speech, black history, and any and everything woke will prove to be the hangman’s own undoing.
You cannot and will not be able to prevent God’s progression of truth. We must and will overcome.
We simply must resist tyranny with all our might and weather the storm with steadfast and patient endurance.
The race is not given to the swift, but he who endures t through to the end shall have eternal victory.
What Trump is doing is simply not sustainable and Babylon’s institutional and systemic towers will fall.
The first shall be last, and the last shall be first. So, keep the faith and persevere. We got this!
Woke & Rooted | The Stained Glass Collective | From the Belly Ministries
“But you are a chosen generation, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, a peculiar people…”
—1 Peter 2:9 (KJV)
They said we were scattered because we sinned.
They told us our exile was punishment, our dispersion a disgrace.
They forgot that God often moves through what the world calls broken.
We are the Diaspora Priesthood.
The Scattered Are Also the Sacred
When the temple fell and the Ark was carried into enemy territory, the presence of God didn’t vanish—it moved. It met the people where they were: in the wilderness, in exile, in Babylon.
So many of us in the African Diaspora have been taught to view our history as a chain of losses: lost names, lost tongues, lost lands, lost gods. But what if we are not just a scattered people—we are also a consecrated people?
What if the journey through ships, plantations, prisons, and projects was never about erasure, but about refinement?
Like the Levites, we were set apart. But not for a temple made of stone.
We were set apart to carry presence in the wilderness.
The Priesthood Was Never Meant to Stay in the Sanctuary
In today’s world, the word “priest” conjures up a figure robed in ceremony, separated from the people, far from protest or pain. But in Exodus, priests were born of fire. Their first duty was to stand in the gap.
They were mediators. Bridge-builders. Bearers of sacrifice.
And that is who we are now—those who live between worlds. Between Babylon and Zion. Between grief and glory.
We are priests not because we wear collars, but because we’ve survived captivity and still carry the name of the Lord in our bones.
Diaspora Doesn’t Disqualify You—It Ordains You
God didn’t wait for us to return to the “promised land” to call us. God called us in Babylon. Just like Ezekiel received visions by the rivers of captivity. Just like Daniel led in the king’s court. Just like Jesus, born under empire, moved among the marginalized.
Our location is not a limitation. Our dislocation is divine preparation.
We are a priesthood forged not in temples, but in ghettos and plantations, in jazz clubs and protests, in classrooms and courtrooms.
We are a people of liturgy and liberation.
We are a people of incense and insurrection.
A Sacred Responsibility
To be a priest in exile is to:
Carry sacredness into secular spaces Speak truth to empire even when it costs us safety Build altars in places others abandon Pray with calloused hands Teach the children to sing freedom songs
You don’t need a pulpit to be a priest. You need only a willingness to carry presence wherever you are.
Closing Prayer
God of scattered peoples,
God of the wilderness and the fire,
Call forth your priesthood from every corner of the Diaspora.
Anoint those who feel forgotten.
Strengthen those who feel unworthy.
Let your glory rise not from cathedrals, but from kitchen tables, street corners, and prison cells.
Let our worship be resistance.
Let our resistance be holy.
Let your presence dwell among the displaced.
And let us remember:
We are not lost.
We are sent.
We are the Diaspora Priesthood.
Amen.
🕊️ Read, reflect, and share.
🎨 Engage with this week’s visuals on Instagram @thestainedglasscollective.
📖 Join us next week for “Stained Glass as Protest.”
A stained-glass vision of deliverance: the remnant walks away from the ruins of empire toward a path of covenant light. Babylon is behind. Zion awaits.
🔥 Come Out of Her, My People
Babylon is not just a place—it’s a pattern.
It’s not just ancient—it’s alive.
And if you’re only looking for it on a map,
you’ll miss the fact that you’re already in it.
When Revelation declares, “Come out of her, my people” (Rev. 18:4),
it’s not simply about geography.
It’s about spiritual separation from systems that exploit, erase, and enslave.
🏛️ Babylon Then
In Scripture, Babylon was the empire that captured and exiled Judah.
It burned the temple.
It mocked the prophets.
It demanded holy people sing songs in a foreign land.
It was the first place where theology had to live without buildings.
Where holiness had to survive without a sanctuary.
Where prophets wept by the waters (Psalm 137)
and dreamed of deliverance.
🌆 Babylon Now
But Babylon never died—it just rebranded.
Today, Babylon is systemic:
White supremacy clothed in law. Capitalism that devours the poor. Churches that echo empire more than Christ. Cultures that steal our stories and sell them back to us.
Babylon is anything that says:
“Bow to this image, or burn.” (Daniel 3)
✊🏾 The Diaspora Is Not Home—It’s Holding Ground
We are the scattered.
The descendants of a stolen people.
And just like our ancestors in exile,
we’ve been told to blend in and shut up.
But the call still echoes through time:
“Flee from Babylon! Run for your lives!” — Jeremiah 51:6
This doesn’t mean run without vision.
It means build something holy outside the system.
It means love deeper than they hate.
It means reclaim our name, our priesthood, and our power.
🌄 Toward Zion
Zion is not a megachurch.
It’s not an aesthetic.
It’s not nationalism.
Zion is the kingdom of God breaking through the cracks.
It’s justice in motion.
Joy uncolonized.
Covenant unbroken.
We are on our way there.
But to enter Zion, we have to leave Babylon behind.
🎨 Stained Glass Resistance
The Stained Glass Collective exists to name the system,
to call the remnant,
and to rebuild sacred memory.
Each post is a shard of revelation.
Each image, a window into freedom.
Each truth, a break from Babylon’s spell.
🕯️ Are You Still in Babylon?
Ask yourself:
Who profits from your silence? What idols have you bowed to? Are you building Zion—or renting Babylon’s stage?
You don’t have to stay.
Babylon isn’t a city—it’s a system.
And systems collapse when the truth refuses to cooperate.
From exile to expression—he stands in the window of revelation. Every shard, a story. Every color, a calling. This is what it means to be seen through stained glass: Not despite the breaking, but because of it.
🕊️ We Are the Broken Made Beautiful
We are the scattered made whole.
The exiled made priestly.
The silenced made prophetic.
The Stained Glass Collective was born from a sacred tension—
between what has been broken and what still burns with light.
We are a digital community of faith, color, culture, and calling—
refusing to let theology remain cold, distant, or colonized.
🌍 Diaspora Is Not Defeat
We believe the African Diaspora is not forgotten—it is chosen.
We carry the story of Israel, exiled but not erased.
Our suffering is not senseless.
Our memory is not myth.
We are God’s remnant, awakening in the wilderness of empire.
📖 We Read Scripture Through Cracked Glass
This Collective is not just about art—it is about reclaiming the sacred.
We see scripture not as a tool of dominance but a blueprint for liberation.
We read with the fire of Moses, the lament of Jeremiah,
the visions of Ezekiel, and the faith of the Revelation church.
Each post, each graphic, each blog entry is a shard of stained glass—
reflecting divine light through our pain, beauty, and Blackness.
🎨 Our Theology Is Not Theoretical
We do not debate doctrine for sport.
We live theology like breath, like blood, like fire in our bones.
We speak to the mother who prays in silence.
To the son who has only known exile.
To the neighbor who stands beside us, not above us.
To the remnant—Black and non-Black—who are tired of Babylon’s lies
and ready to walk toward Zion.
🔥 The Second Exodus Is Underway
This is not just a movement. It’s a migration.
Out of oppression.
Out of whitewashed faith.
Out of performative religion.
Into covenant.
Into community.
Into Kingdom.
We believe in the Second Exodus—a spiritual deliverance
for God’s people scattered in every nation,
a priesthood reborn from ashes,
a church without walls,
a God who still sets captives free.
🕯️ This Is Your Invitation
If you’re wandering—we welcome you.
If you’re awakening—we walk with you.
If you’re willing—we work beside you.
The stained glass isn’t finished.
We are still piecing it together.
Each voice, each story, each scripture—
makes the mosaic more radiant.
📍 Join Us.
Follow us on instagram @thestainedglasscollective for visual theology and prophetic infographics.
The Stained Glass Collective 