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| Jeremy Ayers |
Last week my Facebook feed was full of stories about Michael
Brown, but only after the protests and violence began. The hard truth is that
August 9, 2014 was yet one more day in America where unarmed black men
are shot and killed.
In just the last month, police officers killed three other
unarmed black men: Eric Garner in New York, John Crawford III in Ohio, and Ezell Ford in Los Angeles. Nearly two times a week a white police officer killed a black person between 2005 and
2012, according to data reported to the FBI. I do not know all the facts in
these cases. But, we cannot deny the reality that black men are
disproportionately the subjects of violence. Nor can we ignore the increasing militarization of our police.
I am overwhelmed, as you must be too, by the images coming
from Ferguson: by tanks rolling down residential streets, by hands raised in
surrender in front of guns and gas masks, by peacekeepers desperately trying to
curb protests turned violent. Today I read this update and wondered if I would have such courage were unrest laid on our
doorstep:
“An armored vehicle moved down
the street trying to clear the crowd, and some pastors stood with their arms
locked trying to restore peace. They helped to move protesters away from the
police line.”
Something is amiss when we, at least as followers of Jesus,
take such violence as a matter of course. Ours is a savior who was killed
unjustly at the hands of the state, the sacrifice to end sacrifices. We need no
more death to keep us safe.
So I pause to acknowledge the injustice of this situation. I
recognize that I have privilege that insulates and blinds me to injustice. I am
troubled by policies that make situations like these worse, and must be changed.
I also acknowledge that I am a follower of Jesus. So I
believe that the Spirit of the one who raised Jesus from the dead is at work
among our bodies also. I believe that people of faith, in Ferguson and
Washington, are sitting with this pain, looking at ourselves critically,
acknowledging our own forms of racism, and saying, “Violence and injustice against
another human being may happen in this world, but, by grace, let it not happen
here.”
Lord, make us an instrument of your peace. May we work
alongside you for a wholeness that yields a harvest of justice. Help us walk the
way of the cross, to die to ignorance and passive acceptance of violence, and to
come to life in rebellious hope. Help us know how to pray, what to say, and
when needed, what to do. Draw our story into your story so that the death of
Michael Brown is not the end of the story but only a new beginning.
May we throw our hands up in surrender—as we do at God’s
table each week—to become what we receive, the broken but healed body that
gives life to the world.
Jeremy Ayers is a Texan, beach lover, and serial comma user. He is a member of St. Thomas’ Parish Dupont Circle.
