Every year there’s a part in the reading played by the congregation. Together we shout, “Crucify him!” Every year we squirm in our seats just a little at the words. This year I squirmed more.
I squirmed because I know that my whiteness has given me a privilege in society to be unaffected at each new headline outlining the death of another black man. My whiteness has allowed me to read that headline, shake my head, and move on with my life. My indifference to racial injustice in this country is the same as crying out “crucify!” My silence is the same as Peter’s denial of knowing Christ. It’s not that I don’t care, it’s that often I don’t care enough to be bothered.
This Holy Week the Spirit is leading me to reflect more on the what it means to pick up my cross and follow Jesus. The spirit is asking me to look into the face of Christ in the face of my black brothers and sisters and not to run away as the disciples did.
I pray this Easter brings with it new life, a new world, a new society, and a new dream where the reign of God breaks open the floodgates to let justice roll down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream. #blacklivesmatter
Lord, have mercy. Christ, have mercy. Lord, have mercy.
“We see the videos and we are authentically horrified and saddened by what we see. But many of us [white people] have the ultimate privilege of changing the channel, clicking on another Facebook post. We can make it go away if we choose and the horror of the scene is quickly forgotten. We can leave it behind and go about our day. And most white people don’t attune to just how different an experience it is for black people.”
— Dr. Jonathan Kanter, University of Washington