Dear Friends,
The first of many memorial services for George Floyd, the African American man murdered by a police officer in Minneapolis, was held yesterday. Since his brutal death, people have marched across our nation and around the world. They’re calling for the end of systemic racism and police brutality. They’re calling for justice. They’re as diverse as our nation: white, black, brown, Asian, Native American. Although there have been instances of violence and rampage, the vast majority of these protest marchers and demonstrators are peaceful, just as the vast majority of our law enforcement officers are not brutal, but rather, are committed, caring civil servants.
That said, the over-arching truth is this: racism and race-driven police brutality are daily realities in our beloved but beleaguered nation. Think about that: daily realities.
“Justice delayed is justice denied” is one of many poignant phrases that call us to recognize and address the ongoing problem of racial inequality. Last year marked the 400th anniversary of slaves being brought to the shores of our Commonwealth. Slavery is the shameful foundation of our nation. In the four centuries since 1619, we have formed ourselves into a democratic nation, created the most robust economy in the world, and tried to become the model of a great society.
But the model has been undermined by persistent racism. The abundant harvest from the hard work that went into creating this nation has not been distributed justly. Not only was the early work done by enslaved people, but their descendants are the ones on whose shoulders the heavy work continues to lie to this day. Our progress has been made possible by demeaning and dehumanizing those upon whom we rely.
We have made advances toward a more equitable society, but the persistent, deep inequities that endure overwhelm our evolution. These inequities of opportunity, health and health care, education, safe and affordable housing, food security – in short, inequities of everything that makes up the so-called “American dream” – are an ugly ongoing reality for our black, brown, and Native American brothers and sisters. Demonstrable, measurable forms of racism reveal that justice is delayed; hence, justice is unequivocally denied.
In the midst of all the losses brought on by the corona virus pandemic, it might seem that now, even after the precipitating horror of Mr. Floyd’s murder, isn’t the time for urgent calls to end racism. However, the pandemic has revealed the imbalances of our society in the starkest ways. Racial injustice has made the pandemic even worse than it might otherwise be. A significantly disproportionate number of African Americans have contracted and died of Covid-19 due to systemic inequities – lack of access to adequate health care, densely populated living situations, polluted air and dirty water, and employment that does not readily allow “work-at-home” opportunities, to name only a few. Even a global pandemic has consequences that grow directly from racial injustice.
Just as the pandemic has touched every corner of our nation and the earth, the crisis triggered by the tragic and painful death of Mr. Floyd has aroused the consciences of citizens in virtually every state in the union, and beyond. As we watch the coverage, I regret that I can’t join the marchers at this time. But I am in community with them as they so spontaneously respond to the horror that occurred in Minneapolis.
Nan and I have been heartened by emails that have come from all the academic institutions we’ve attended, as well as other groups with which we’re associated. We’re learning about new venues for discussion, a task that institutions of learning do quite well, as well as more immediate, concrete actions. We’re hearing both about programs that have been underway for some time and new ones now being developed. This is more than just lip-service; these are programs that are reinforced with funding and well-informed, experienced leadership. Thoughtful people are working with passion and humility to more concretely identify and correct practices that, consciously and unconsciously, aid and abet racial inequality. I am sure you, too, have become aware of encouraging examples of commitment and genuine work towards racial justice.
This work and these marches are citizenship at its most challenging. But we are not just citizens of the U.S.; we are Christian citizens, and the call to Christian citizenship is even more demanding. The call to do justice in the context of Christ’s love is fundamental to our faith, and we are called to live our faith.
Luke 10:27 records Jesus’s commandment that “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart, and with all your soul, and with all your strength, and with all your mind; and your neighbor as yourself.” This commandment was basic to Jesus’s own faith. Verse 27a is from Deuteronomy 6:5 and 27b is from Leviticus 19:18. Matthew 22:37-39 shares a similar imperative. In both Matthew and Luke, Jesus holds up this charge – this call – as the essence of our faith.
For the past 2,000 years, we have tried to follow this foundational commandment. Sadly, however, we have too often failed. We have allowed ourselves to be distracted from this essential demand of faith. We’ve built barriers, foolishly trying to figure out just who are neighbors are and then questioning how we should love them. We’ve gotten so lost in the minutia that we’ve missed the big picture.
Jesus gives us the guidance we need, if only we follow his words without creating contrived obstacles to our understanding. He gives us a precise, compact summary of the law: to love the Lord and your neighbor as yourself. This is harder than it seems. To teach us how to implement this law, he gives us the Parable of the Good Samaritan.
You know the parable, but I invite you to turn to Luke 10:29-37 and read it again. Try to put yourself into the role of the man who was robbed, stripped, beaten, and left for dead. That man is our neighbor. And, my friends, the priest who passes by the dying man is also our neighbor, as is the Levite, and, thankfully, the outsider who is the Samaritan. If we are to try to truly engage in this difficult task of unwinding the racism that lives in each of us, and if we are ever to heal the deep, scarring damage it has caused, it behooves us to see the neighbor in each of the people in the parable.
Opening our eyes to truly see our neighbors is very difficult. George Floyd is our neighbor. Our neighbor is also the police officer who knelt on his neck. Our neighbor is a demonstrator marching for justice in the midst of a lethal pandemic. Our neighbor is the officer standing behind a shield, firing smoke bombs and tear gas into a crowd of peaceful protestors. Dorothy Day, the Roman Catholic activist and woman of deep faith, makes it even harder, reminding us that Jesus himself is in each of those people.
We think we know our neighbor, but clearly, we do not. Pay attention to that parable, for Jesus is using it to patiently teach us who our neighbors are.
And once we finally recognize our neighbors, how are we to love them? That question should always be foremost in our hearts and minds. Cornel West, contemporary Christian philosopher and activist, has said, “Justice is what love looks like in public.” As Christians, we are called to practice loving by acting justly with each of our neighbors, in each of our many communities. These include everyone we encounter in the places where we live, where we worship, where we eat, where we shop, where we travel, where we walk. We may not be able to experience their pain, or their joy, or their disdain, or their selflessness. But we can certainly love them. We can be quiet and listen to their stories.
If we truly love God with all our hearts, souls, strength, and minds, we might be able to recognize Christ in every single person we meet. And if we even begin to approach such an understanding, how can we help but love our neighbors? How can we help but work ceaselessly to repair the damage and pain that comes from racism, which is rooted in our lack of love?
I invite you to hear an important statement addressing our current social situation made by the Reverend Dr. J. Herbert Nelson, II, the Stated Clerk of the General Assembly of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.). You may find it on the opening page of pcusa.org.
Perhaps what will help us most in these lonely days of sheltering in place is to be together in prayer. Let us pray these prayers taken from the Book of Common Worship of the Presbyterian Church (U.S.A.) and the Book of Common Order of the Church of Scotland. After you pray them, consider spending 8 minutes and 46 seconds in silent meditation. This is the amount of time that a police officer knelt on George Floyd’s neck, including over two minutes after he was no longer breathing. May you begin to find resolve and understanding in these prayers and in those long minutes of contemplation.
O God, you created all people in your image. We thank you for the astonishing variety of races and cultures in this country and in this world. Enrich our lives by ever-widening circles of friendship, And show us your presence in those who differ from us, Until our knowledge of your love is made perfect In our love for all your children; Through your Son, Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.
God and Father of all, in your love you made all the nations of the world to be a family, and your Son taught us to love one another. Yet our world is riven apart with prejudice, arrogance, and pride. Help the different races to love and understand one another better. Increase among us sympathy, tolerance, and goodwill, that we may learn to appreciate the gifts that other races bring to us, and to see in all people our brothers and sisters for whom Christ died. Save us from jealousy, hatred, and fear, and help us to live together as members of one family at home in the world, sons and daughters of one Father who live in the liberty of the children of God; through Jesus Christ our Lord. Amen.