[Intro]
Night grit, lights split—truth slips through the grid,
We plant what power paved, and raise what fear undid.

[Verse 1]
Civic physics: tyrant’s theorem fails at first condition,
If love’s the leading constant, hate’s an error in the mission.
Author-itarian arithmetic—order built on missing sums,
Subtracts the human dignity, divides the weakest ones.
We audit every axiom they etch on iron gates,
Find circular conclusions in their “destiny of state.”
If might creates what’s right, the proof refutes itself at once:
A rule that needs a rifle isn’t reason, it’s a stunt.
We carry counter-claims in casseroles and common care,
A commons-coded calculus where every share is fair.
Consent is not a checkbox under floodlights, fear, and fines—
Consent requires couches, clinics, kitchens, open lines.
Democracy is dialogue, not dogma dressed in steel;
The table is the theorem and the welcome is the seal.
We test their gospel spreadsheets with the sick and unpaid rent—
If justice isn’t healing, then the law is ill-intent.

[Pre-Chorus]
Quiet math of mercy: add the lost, remove the lash,
Multiply the futures, cancel debts, and split the stash.

All rise, no kings—no chains on the choir,
High tide, whole thing—love lifts, not the liar.
Hands wide, we sing—low bass, street wire,
All rise, no kings—no chains on the choir.
All rise, no kings—no thrones for the higher,
High tide, whole thing—share bread, share fire.
Hands wide, we sing—one beat, one briar,
All rise, no kings—no chains on the choir.

[Verse 2]
Colonizer logic wears a ledger like a halo ring,
Extracts the earth, then bills the earth for daring not to sing.
Supply chains with a hospice at the end of every lane,
If profit means a famine, then the product is our pain.
They mint a “market freedom” that evicts the village well,
Then sell the water back and brand the thirst as “discipline.”
But stewardship is science with a Sabbath in its bones,
Repairing what was ravaged, planting justice in the zones.
We jury-rig a jubilee with grocery-line relief,
Where wages meet the mornings like a balm for busted teeth.
No empire over neighborhoods that knew each other’s names,
No landlord over lifelines—we retire rigged games.
We counter with cooperatives, with credit unions, schools,
With kitchens run by neighbors, not a crown of clever rules.
A treaty is a promise not to profit from a scar;
We sign in bread and braille and build a brighter reservoir.

[Pre-Chorus]
Quiet math of mercy: add the lost, remove the lash,
Multiply the futures, cancel debts, and split the stash.

[Verse 3]
Machine-saint sermons promise uploads of the soul to gold,
But patents on a personhood are graves disguised as code.
Transhuman silver bullet: “shed the frailty, buy the sky,”
Yet bodies are not beta-tests; we’re breath that learns to cry.
If upgrades need an heirloom class to buy a second dawn,
Then “future” is a feudal house with neon curtains drawn.
We’d rather wire kindness into networks made of knees,
Where hands still hold the fragile and the fallible is free.
Authoritarian firmware boots with slogans, locks the port,
But grassroots flash the firmware patch: communion as a sport.
The soul’s not data property; the flesh is not a fee,
Our value isn’t valued by expanding GDP.
If profit sails alone while docks collapse beneath the crowd,
That margin is a morgue—the math should make us loud.
We model moral markets where the ledger loves the least,
And scale the sacred surplus till the famine finds a feast.

Low hum, long drum—ethics in the underbeat,
New law, no throne—neighbors at the mercy seat.
No brand, no blade—only balm for busted feet,
Whole tide, bright wide—every room a refuge street.

Math of the Mercy

[Chorus]
Keep the lights on, come inside.
Share the bread, share the time.
Hearts stay open, side by side.
Love says “welcome”—that’s our sign.

[Verse 1]
Flag-wrapped catchphrases cash in the cash box,
Campaign catechisms masking the padlocks.
Bad cops, batons, then pastors do backdrop—
Casting a vote for the moat round the last-block.
I counter the counterfeits—counter with counterspace,
Counters with casseroles, faith in a louder grace.
Power wants pageants; we’re paging the powerless,
Pages of red letters read in the hourless.
Table-flip tempo—truth in a tendon snap,
Tents in the temp cold, soup in a trembling lap.
Kingdom is contact, constant and honest work,
Wash feet, mop hurt—watch the monsters shirk.

[Chorus]
Keep the lights on, come inside.
Share the bread, share the time.
Hearts stay open, side by side.
Love says “welcome”—that’s our sign.

[Verse 2]
Neo-strongman sermons—service in servo-mode,
Narrow the worthy, swerve mercy to “curb the load.”
Scripture as sticker—politic gimmickry,
Christ in the kitchen, not clicks for the imagery.
I’m Samaritan stitches, carrying splints and salt,
Bandage the slandered, cancel the hidden vault.
Beatitudes bloom in the fumes of a winter night,
Streetlight halo on halos that didn’t shine.
“Law and order” that hoards what the poor require?
Real law’s love—pour water on border wires.
If your creed breeds greed, that’s a fever dream;
We feed, seed peace—that’s the Jesus theme.
[Chorus]
Keep the lights on, come inside.
Share the bread, share the time.
Hearts stay open, side by side.
Love says “welcome”—that’s our sign.

[Verse 3]
Microphones monetize menace in megachurch,
Meanwhile the megaphone’s mercy in neighbor work.
Nation as idol? That’s iron and paper skin—
Golden-calf glow can’t cover a vacant grin.
“Bless those who curse you,”—verses that burn the fuse,
Turn other cheek to the cheek that we turn to use:
Face the abuser with truth and a firmed-up spine,
Guard the abused with a room and a warm supply.
Justice is honest receipts, not a hashtag,
Coats on a chair, bus fare in a cash bag.
Empire can posture; we posture the pan and pot,
Gospel is groceries—hot where the night is not.

[Chorus]
Keep the lights on, come inside.
Share the bread, share the time.
Hearts stay open, side by side.
Love says “welcome”—that’s our sign.

[Bridge]
Low hum—heater on; snow drums—beat along,
Phone charged—leave it on; no one eats alone.
Torn nets—weave ‘em strong; sore necks—lean and yawn,
Dawn breaks—sing it on: mercy leads us home.

[Chorus]
Keep the lights on, come inside.
Share the bread, share the time.
Hearts stay open, side by side.
Love says “welcome”—that’s our sign.

[Chorus]
Keep the lights on, come inside.
Share the bread, share the time.
Hearts stay open, side by side.
Love says “welcome”—that’s our sign.

Keep the Lights On Come Inside

Chorus]
Keep the porch light bright—let the broke step in;
We don’t beg their grace—we evoke, step in.
Hold the line, hold hands, make a vote, step in;
Every closed fist opens when we hope, step in.

[Verse 1]
Paper saints with plated gates, litigate the food line,
We relate with crates and plates—renegade of rude times.
Pay-to-pray charade, parade the nation as a sacred brand,
I parade a basin—hands and aprons, that’s the sacred plan.
Camel-eye aperture—ledger-heavy, fracture sure,
Lazarus at lattices—“access” stamped with lack for sure.
If “order” draws a border ‘round a fridge with seven locks,
Then justice is a locksmith and a squad with extra pots.

[Chorus]
Keep the porch light bright—let the broke step in;
We don’t beg their grace—we evoke, step in.
Hold the line, hold hands, make a vote, step in;
Every closed fist opens when we hope, step in.

[Verse 2]
Debt traps, red stamps, hospitals with hostile bills,
We set claps, bread camps, gospel with the practical.
Mutuals with schedules—childcare, rideshares, med refills,
Credible, replicable—Acts two vegetables.
If creed is only spectacle—discard it like a broken wand;
If need is met in measurable receipts—we’re finally walking on.

[Chorus]
Keep the porch light bright—let the broke step in;
We don’t beg their grace—we evoke, step in.
Hold the line, hold hands, make a vote, step in;
Every closed fist opens when we hope, step in.

[Bridge]
Name the harm; share the tools; learn the craft; set the rules.
Feed the block; hold the truth; build the trust; break the ruse.

[Chorus]
Keep the porch light bright—let the broke step in;
We don’t beg their grace—we evoke, step in.
Hold the line, hold hands, make a vote, step in;
Every closed fist opens when we hope, step in.

Step In

Profits of End Times Sorcery

[Verse 1]
Basement of the nation, bass kick consecration,
Bitter idols waving banners like a makeshift consecration,
Snake scripts, state myths, draped in flag-knit incantation,
I lace riffs, break ribs of that blank-trip domination.
They pray to paper crowns, counterfeit coronation,
Cross-hilt politics, profit from poor salvation;
Torching every border with a bored humiliation,
But we pour living water on their scorched imaginations.
Algorithm of the spirit, anti-empire calibration,
I’m a cipher in the choir, calling frauds to cancellation;
No hail to hollow halos hung on hate’s hallucination,
Only light that shatters night and censors their sensational.
They pitch a graven nation, call it sacred legislation,
We reject it—resurrected in a just reformation;
Church of New Millennium, rhythm as revelation,
Truth drum, boom-blessed, breaking chains of domination.

Low-tide lullaby, lightning in my chest,
Mercy like a floodlight, cutting through their nets;
No flag on my faith, no border on my breath,
Love is the law here—life over death.
Turn up the low end, wash away their lies,
Choir on fire, truth is on the rise;
We won’t bow to idols carved in empire stone,
Heaven in the bass drum—bringing every captive home.

[Verse 2]
They auction off the scriptures like a slip in speculation,
Clip verses, flip curses, forge a forced identification;
March kids into a maze of militant indoctrination,
But we splice it with the spice of fearless re-creation.
Their pulpits pump a panic—pure authoritarian fiction,
Blunt fists, stunt lists, spun wrists in crucifixion;
We counter with a canon of communal jurisdiction,
Bread breaks, beds make—mutual aid as benediction.
Hymnals in the sub-bass, brimstone to the bigots’ bluff,
Signal through the nickels of their nickel-plated cuffs;
Syllables are sickles in the fields of fascist fluff,
Harvest every heart that’s starved—enough is more than enough.
No Caesar in the chancel, no police in our psalms,
No border at the table, no empire in our palms;
If power is a parasite, justice is the balm,
We tune the room with boom and bloom a fearless calm.

Low-tide lullaby, lightning in my chest,
Mercy like a floodlight, cutting through their nets;
No flag on my faith, no border on my breath,
Love is the law here—life over death.
Turn up the low end, wash away their lies,
Choir on fire, truth is on the rise;
We won’t bow to idols carved in empire stone,
Heaven in the bass drum—bringing every captive home.

Life Over Death

This sermon addresses the profound difference between man's perception of blindness and God's understanding of it, drawing heavily from John chapter 9, the story of the man born blind. Traditionally, both the disciples and the Jews believed physical blindness was a direct punishment for sin committed by the individual or their parents, reflecting a wrong concept of a judgmental God. However, Jesus introduces a radical new perspective, stating that the man's condition was not due to sin, but rather so the works of God might be displayed. Ultimately, Jesus defines the true affliction as spiritual blindness, which is the cruelty of heart and an unwillingness to accept divine truth, exemplified by those who witnessed his miracles yet remained closed off to his authority and message. The source challenges listeners to examine themselves to ensure they are not harboring this deeper spiritual ailment despite experiencing God's daily messages and works.

Blindness as seen by God Vs Man

This sermon contrasts the unrepentant man from John 5:1-18 with previous examples of spiritual transformation, aiming to teach listeners how hindrances to repentance manifest. The speaker highlights three major obstacles the paralyzed man exhibits, the first being self-righteousness, evidenced when the man avoids a simple "yes or no" answer to Jesus's question, instead blaming his lack of a helper. The second obstacle is making excuses by blaming others for his predicament, rather than acknowledging any fault in himself, such as poor choices in friends. Finally, the sermon emphasizes the man's self-vindication, noting that he avoids confessing his sins and instead blames both the healthy people and his fellow sick people for his circumstances, thereby refusing to take responsibility for his own actions or need for change.

Hindrance of Repentance

A powerful sermon by John Ramirez urging believers to guard their spiritual fire, pursue God’s presence, and live fully surrendered to the Holy Spirit.

The Devil Is After Your Fire // John Ramirez

Welcome to the prayer call where we daily receive strategy and wisdom to implement thy kingdom come, thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven. We have asked for the nations of the earth as our inheritance. We access our victories from our third heaven position. Please listen, learn and implement these great strategies given to us by our lord of Host Yeshua. /Jesus.

Matthew 6:10 Psalms 2:8 Ephesians 2:

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COME MINISTRY 11-14-25 PRAYER CALL FRIDAY

This is Peter writing to church leaders about the kind of heart and attitude they should have in order to serve a local church. The two New Testament epistles ascribed to the Apostle Peter are lesser known by most Christians than the Epistles of the Apostle Paul. Some scholars believe that First Peter may have been written to young Christians and may have even served as a 'catechism' for those about to be water baptised. In this episode, we look at how Peter presents God as Father, Son, and Spirit, and how Christianity commences with becoming 'born again'. But this is not where Christianity ends - and that aged Apostle Peter gives instructions on how a new believer is to grow in the faith by exploring what the knowledge of God and HIs grace requires.

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The Epistles of Peter - Christian Living, Part 7 ~ Living as Leaders Under Christ

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Upper Room Media is a ministry of the Coptic Orthodox Church. Its mission is to bring the word of God from a timeless faith into your hearts and mind anywhere at anytime.

The Orthodox Church worships God in continuity with the earliest Church, and as such is the oldest Church. It is a Church of balance: between the mystical and the tangible; between spirituality and theology; between the worship of God and service to humanity. Everything is in balance, otherwise known as right worship, which means Orthodox. It is not a denomination, but rather pre-denominational. It is not a religion but rather a life with God in Christ. 

The Orthodox Church worships God in spirit and truth (John 4:24) and dynamically incarnates that truth in every age - empowering all people from all walks of life to love God, others, and themselves. 

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This is the podcast, Audio the Matters, where I take the ancient truth of God's Word, explain it, and show how it is relevant for today. I blog. I write. I  eBook. I am currently undertaking another doctorate where I am researching the work of C.S. Lewis in regard to his theological contribution to our understanding of the imago Dei.

Welcome to the prayer call where we daily receive strategy and wisdom to implement thy kingdom come, thy will be done in earth as it is in heaven. We have asked for the nations of the earth as our inheritance. We access our victories from our third heaven position. Please listen, learn and implement these great strategies given to us by our lord of Host Yeshua. /Jesus.

Matthew 6:10 Psalms 2:8 Ephesians 2:

https://www.comeministry.com

 Join The National Prayer Call (Zechariah 2:5) Family Mon - Friday 9 a.m. EST 641.426.1600, code 5034950# JOIN THE WEEKLY NATIONAL PRAYER CALL: www.comeministry.com

New tracks tagged #spiritual warfare