A MESSAGE FROM THE PUBLISHER
By Bobby R. Henry, Sr.
In this political season, we need a sycamore tree—something rooted firmly enough in truth to lift us above the noise, fear, greed, and deception threatening to rot the heart of our society.
In Luke 19, Zacchaeus could not see Yahshua, Jesus, because the crowd blocked his view. He was short, but he refused to let that limitation determine his destiny. He ran ahead and climbed a sycamore tree.
We, too, must find the courage to rise above whatever blocks our vision.
The biblical sycamore fig has a thick trunk, spreading branches, and a broad canopy. It offers support and shade, and its figs grow along the trunk and older branches. For us, those qualities provide a picture of what a community can become: firmly rooted, able to lift others, and willing to nourish everyone within its reach.
Our churches, families, schools, community organizations, and Black Press must provide that support. Their strength should help people see clearly, ask difficult questions, and act with conviction.
But even a mighty tree can suffer decay. The varmints gnawing at our roots are dishonesty, exploitation, prejudice, indifference, and the appetite for power without accountability. We cannot admire the canopy while ignoring what is eating away beneath it.
Exodus 23:2 warns us not to follow the crowd into wrongdoing or allow its pressure to twist justice. That instruction belongs in the voting booth, the pulpit, the newsroom, and every room where decisions affect other people’s lives.
A lie does not become truth because a wealthy person finances it, a politician repeats it, or a cheering crowd embraces it. Party loyalty cannot excuse injustice. Neither can a familiar face, a shared skin color, or the promise of personal advantage.
We must examine both what we do and why we do it. Are we acting from conscience or fear? Are we defending our neighbors or protecting our access to powerful people? Are we seeking justice, or merely seeking a place near those who control the rewards?
Those questions reach beyond politics into the human heart. I believe the heart will find no lasting rest until we come to know Yahusha and allow that relationship to change how we live. Zacchaeus’s encounter produced more than excitement: he pledged generosity to the poor and repayment to those he had cheated.
An awakened conscience must produce action. Our faith should be visible in how we treat people, repair harm, tell the truth, and hold leaders accountable.
Timing matters, too. Ecclesiastes 3:1 teaches that every activity has its season. Acting without discernment can cause harm, while waiting beyond the moment can surrender an opportunity we may never recover.
This political season requires preparation now: study the candidates, examine their records, verify information, help neighbors prepare to vote, and demand commitments we can measure. Prayer should strengthen that work and guide its purpose.
Scripture does not tell us whether the sycamore was bearing fruit when Zacchaeus climbed it. We should not invent what the text leaves unsaid. But his encounter bore fruit in a changed life.
That challenges us: What fruit will our participation produce? Greater dignity? Fairer opportunity? Protection for the vulnerable? Or another harvest of excuses?
Zacchaeus climbed to see, then came down to respond. We must do both. Rise above the crowd to gain clarity, then return to the work of serving our people.
The sycamore moment is ours. Let us grow strong enough to lift one another—and courageous enough to act while there is still time.
