What Makes Me Angriest About the BLM Conversation (It’s Not What You Think)
I still feel a bit in a daze from the past few weeks. The aftermath of the death of George Floyd has taken a surprising toll on me, and for most of it I haven’t been able to put a finger on why.
Yes, I am horrified by what has happened to the black men and women who have lost their lives in the last few weeks, and that has weighed on me. I have spoken out, and that has weighed on me. I have listened to the many, many stories black people are sharing to help us understand modern racism, and those have weighed on me. I am stunned by the violence police are showing to many peaceful protestors, and that is weighing on me.
But horrifying things have happened before, they happen often. And I have spoken out many times. And I have spent much of my life digging into injustice. The weight I’m feeling right now isn’t just from those things.
It is more than a weight, it’s like a combination of thick fog and whiplash. I have been struggling to get out of bed, struggling to focus on work, struggling to socialize, struggling to get through the days. I assumed it was because I was sad about the brokenness of the world. But I started to notice more and more that it wasn’t sadness I kept feeling. It was anger.
That makes sense, everyone is angry right now, right? I’m angry at racist and violent police officers and white supremacists, right? Sure, I am. But not to that extent. This has never been my issue. While I am grateful to be learning my place in a systemically racist culture, this issue has never been one of those things that gets stuck in my gut and won’t go away. In all this I’ve never felt like it’s somehow my new life calling. For some people this issue is their ultimate and their life-long focus, and we need that, but it hasn’t been for me. So what am I so angry at, then?
I started noticing what made me angry, really angry. I was surprised. It wasn’t Derek Chauvin. It wasn’t police brutality. It wasn’t looting.
It was Christians.
Christians who didn’t say anything when Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, or George Floyd died, but who were immediately and publicly outraged by looting in Minneapolis.
Christians who denied that racism is a problem the church should address.
Christians who three weeks ago were defying government mandates against congregating in churches due to covid-19 — many protesting these closures at state capitols — but who suddenly condemn anyone who doesn’t listen to and respect law enforcement.
Christians who share all about officers kneeling with protesters but never share that those same officers attacked the crowd minutes later.
Christians who claim the Bible doesn’t make a strong enough case for activism against racism, or at least not strong enough for them to say or do anything.
Christians who now claim these “thugs” are destroying our dear country that was founded on law and order, denying that this country came from violent, anti-authoritarian protests for the cause of equal treatment under law.
Christians who only purport a Jesus who loves and does nothing, but seem to forget the Jesus who started a riot in the Temple, who verbally insulted the religious authorities, and who was killed by the reigning government.
Christians who continue to actively support a President who has trampled on any semblance of what Jesus would say, do, or value.
Christians who stand by a man who tear-gassed and shot rubber bullets into a crowd of peaceful protesters to clear a path for a photo-op at a church he doesn’t go to, holding a book that wasn’t his.
I am seething.
I am so deeply angry because I still call myself a Christian. I still love that teacher from Nazareth. And I feel my gut being torn apart when I see the name of Christ affiliated with movements and persons who are so clearly dedicated to their own causes and countries before the sacrifice of their own good for the sake of the oppressed.
No wonder so many leave. No wonder so many young Christians become so appalled by the actions of their churches and leaders that they cannot stay. I don’t blame them.
I don’t know if this is a “righteous anger” and I’m not going to claim it is. I don’t want to be angry. I don’t want to hate. I want to believe that the way forward is love. But I am so tired of seeing love defined by and in favor of those who have the most to lose.
May I not be a hypocrite.
May I listen hard before I speak.
May I live with humility over fear and offense.
May I set down hatred and take up compassion.
Help me.
