Devotional in Song IRMA JACKSON
I’ve loved Merle Haggard since I first listened to his records in my uncle’s basement at the age of two (slight exaggeration). A lot of people say they “love Haggard and Jones” to get country cred, but I really do. Always have.
To me, one of Merle’s greatest songs is Irma Jackson, one that arrests the soul; a whispered protest against the walls men build, the divisions they defend, the hatred they inherit. It is the story of two hearts drawn together, and a world determined to keep them apart.
And somewhere beneath the melody, you can almost hear another Voice—gentle, steady, holy—calling us back to what we were meant to be. For Christ did not come to keep us separated by skin or heritage; He came to gather us into one new humanity, where the hostility we inherited is slain by the blood of the cross (Ephesians 2:14–16).
Racism is not merely a social problem; it is a spiritual wound—deep, ancient, and deadly. It is the sound of Cain rising up against Abel, the old lie that some lives matter more than others, the poison that blinds us to the image of God stamped on every face.
But the gospel breaks its power. Jesus Christ—our peace, our reconciliation, our Brother—refuses to let the dividing lines of the world stand unchallenged. In His kingdom the Samaritan becomes a neighbor (Luke 10:33–37), the Ethiopian is welcomed with joy (Acts 8:26–39), and the church at Antioch becomes a mosaic of races, cultures, and languages—worshiping as one, serving as one (Acts 13:1–3).
Where Christ is present, unity is not optional; it is inevitable.
And so Irma Jackson becomes more than a song—it becomes a parable. It reminds us that prejudice is loud, but love is stronger; that fear builds fences, but grace builds families; that the church must never echo the world’s hatred, but must stand as a living witness to Calvary’s reconciling power.
When Jesus walked the earth, He never once asked about a man’s background—only his faith. Never once did He measure a woman by her heritage—only her heart. And He calls us to do the same, for “God shows no partiality” (Acts 10:34). The ground at the foot of the cross is wonderfully, gloriously level.
Friends, let us allow the Spirit to search us; to wash away the hidden prejudice, the quiet suspicion, the subtle pride that lingers in the corners of the soul. Let us speak peace where others speak division, let us sow gentleness where others sow suspicion, let us stand with the heart of Christ—who gathers the children of God from every tribe, every tongue, every corner of the earth (Revelation 7:9).
And as we do, may our lives sing a better song than the world has ever heard—a song where love is stronger than fear, where mercy is wider than tradition, where the family of God is bound not by color but by the crimson grace of the Lamb.
Jesus calls us brothers and sisters (Hebrews 2:11), and if He calls us brethren, we dare not call each other anything less.
BDD
