A Facebook friend posted an article about the Black Lives Matter Organization. The article is pretty strongly opinionated about Christians using the hashtag #blacklivesmatter. Reading it made me think, research, grieve and pray.
I've been grieving and praying since the beginning of June, since I first learned about George Floyd's death. I can't remember how I heard about it, actually. Maybe it was the news. Maybe Facebook. All I know is that I began to hear his name, that there was a video (which I haven't been able to bring myself to watch), followed by protests and outrage, riots and looting, and a maelstrom of public opinion. I've read some amazing pieces- facebook posts, poetry, cries to action, calls to repentance. I've listened to podcasts and music. I've had conversations- with my husband, my pastor, my "quaranteam" friends, and probably most importantly, my black Christian friends.
As I considered my own culpability in the system- as a sinner, and a white female, but also a redeemed and beloved child of God, I wrote a few things down here in the blog to help me process those thoughts. I haven't written anything profound or that hundreds of people aren't saying with better words than mine. I've even thought- "Why write about it at all? So much is already being said." I guess that part of the answer to that question is that writing forces me to be just a little bit brave. It's not that my words are going to convince someone of a different mindset to change their convictions. I think we're all witnessing the reality that people become more and more entrenched in their own ideas, no matter what is said. But maybe my words will make my own convictions sink deeper into my heart- that jagged mess that keeps crying out for attention and healing. And maybe someone else whose heart aches the way that mine does will hear the same hopeful message that I've received, and will be comforted.
Why has George Floyd's death caused me to grieve? Clearly he is not the first black man whose life was brutally taken by a white person manifesting their power in violence (just writing that sentence makes me feel sick). So why his death particularly? I'm sure there are a lot of factors that come into play for those of us who are grief-stricken and motivated to speak and act in the wake of his death- but for me, a lot of it has to do with timing. Some of George's last words were "I can't breathe." I've spent the past two and a half years struggling with chronic anxiety. One of my symptoms has been chest pain. Pain so bad that it has kept me up at night, pain that I thought would never end, that couldn't be alleviated by anything (except the occasional beautiful afternoon in the garden). I spent months feeling like I couldn't breath, each chest expansion a hopeful but terrified guess at whether or not I'd be able to fill my lungs. (If you've never experienced anxiety, it's hard to imagine this, but anyone out there who has had a good old fashioned panic attack, you know exactly what I'm talking about). It could be that my struggle for breath has made me connect with George's cry. All I know is that anything I read or hear someone mention these last words of his, I fall to pieces.
My struggle with anxiety can't be boiled down to any one reason- that's one thing that I've learned since starting to recover from it! It's been a mixture of postpartum physiology, emotional and physical exhaustion and spiritual bemusement- but a MAJOR factor has been that I have been spiritually abused. If you don't know what spiritual abuse is (I didn't), then I have two tips for you- read Educated by Tara Westover and listen to these podcasts on spiritual abuse from the Allender Center. Spiritual abuse distorts the victim's view of God. And for someone like me, whose life is wrapped around the idea of God and what it means to be in relationship with God- it is devastating.
The overpowering grace of God has led me to a movement of Christians who see and understand spiritual abuse (and many other forms of abuse) and are moving out into the world with a swift, beautiful message that is pure Rescue. The message is this- Your story is real. Your story is being listened to. Your brokenness matters. You do not need to fix it. You are not to blame. And you are NOT alone.
Spiritual abuse happens when someone who claims to hear from God projects a message that ignores the cries of the downcast, blames them for their brokenness and treats them as "other" often because of the very suffering that they have, in fact, caused. Spiritual abuse has broken my heart, frayed my faith and ultimately lead to physical suffering that has made me feel like I can't breathe. Maybe the worst thing about spiritual abuse is that it alienates the victim from the Healer. They're made to feel like they are outside the circle of acceptance- a dangerous and dark place, where literally anything can happen to a mind or a body.
My emotional response to the death of George Floyd is shrouded in this experience. My heart aches because, when I read articles like that one posted on Facebook about using the Black Lives Matter hashtag, I see the shaming of people in the name of God, the calling out of "unrighteous" ideology and the classification of suffering people as the "other." There is no consideration of the myriad sin-crushed, grace-starved systemic causes of the suffering that lead to the cry in the first place... at least, not that I can see. There is no pneuma here, no life-giving grace. No hope, no healing. Just a projection of what a righteous person should be, and the shaming of those who cannot live up to the standard. (News flash- that's all of us, by the way) This article is an echo of my own experiences of shame and spiritual abuse.
As I heal, one of the things that I'm learning to do is to sit with pain. I'm reading a book about how and why Christians need to learn when and how to sit with pain. The author, K.J. Ramsey, summarizes why I need to say Black Lives Matter this way-
Sin is calling a failure what is actually the fall. It's forgetting our origin story, the sin of self-sufficiency, and the outcome of living beyond the boundaries of what God has given. It's forgetting that every part of creation cries out because of the curse. It's forgetting that broken bodies, broken stories and broken relationships are the result of ancient sin. It's personalizing what are often bigger consequences of a massive story. Disease, disorders, weakness, poverty and grief are the losing legacy of humanity, the shards of sin shattering us, from the smallest cell to the largest cultural system. The Savior came and is coming again, but our healing is in his hands, not our own. If our Savior chose to enter the human story in a human body, then we should enter one another's places of suffering remembering we carry and extend the presence of Christ. Sin is any Christian's response to pain, poverty and weakness (and Meredith Wermel wants to include suffering from systemic racism in this list) that assumes they are problems to solve rather than places to patiently embody the solidarity of Jesus.
This is the reason that I, as a person who claims the name of Jesus Christ as an integral part of my identity, need to say that Black Lives Matter. I say it in solidarity, not just with my brothers and sisters who are telling me that they are suffering, but in solidarity with Jesus who came and suffered for and with us. This suffering Savior is the central figure of my faith, and I'm convinced that to represent Him rightly means that I must sit, listen and hurt together with those who are telling their stories. Love requires this, and suffering hearts need this. This is the Rescue. Comparing, belittling, blame-shifting, denying, ignoring and judging the crushed in spirit is not. That is spiritual abuse. And I know well how that abuse keeps us from being able to breathe.
To my black brothers and sisters- Your story is real. Your story is being listened to. Your brokenness matters. You do not need to fix it. You are not to blame. You are NOT alone. Black Lives Matter. And the Gospel is for everyone.
After getting some feedback on the blog, I want to include this comment I wrote on my Facebook page:
One thing I wish I had written in the blog: Black Lives Matter is both an organization and a movement. When I read the article I referred to in this blog that questions Christians who use #blacklivesmatter I took my time reading and considering the statements from the Black Lives Matter organization. I cannot say that I agree with all of them. I also cannot say that I agree with each and every statement put forth by churches that I’ve been a member of. But I’ve agreed with their central tenet and that’s been enough for me (after a lot of prayerful consideration- I don’t want to minimize that process or oversimplify it) The central tenet of the Black Lives Matter organization and the movement is to demand an end to racial inequality and violence against black people. This issue is obviously HUGE and cannot be dealt with in a single article written by anyone. What concerned me about that article and made me want to write a response is that I perceived the article as something that would discourage Christians from using the hashtag or affiliating with the movement by claiming that doing so means automatic agreement with all of the tenets of the organization. Again, I’m not sure I can think of any man-made system that I agree with 100% of their tenets. But I certainly do support movements and organizations with which I agree with their central tenets. (After a lot of consideration) And, for me, the Black Lives Matter movement is something that I want to stand with and support, not in spite of being a Christian, but because I AM a Christian.
To be clear: the organization helped start the movement, but the movement is not limited to the organization. Saying "Black Lives Matter" is loaded with meaning, and in this blog, I'm telling the story of what it means to me to say this and the reasons that I choose to say it. I realize that, for some people, there are other connotations. Here, I'm making a case for why I am saying it. The fear that other people might connect me with ideologies that I do not support is not as important to me as the desire to stand with those who are suffering and need support in this hour. If you have any questions, send me a DM!
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