Fragments of Exodus, Week 3
“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.
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