We as a Church gather together on this day to celebrate Pentecost Sunday. It’s hard to be in a celebratory mood after watching the news. Many of our cities are on fire, our people in turmoil, and our youth scared and hurting. The racial divide in this country has never been more evident. Even the very statement “Black Lives Matter” seems to be fought against, decried. Families have literally torn apart and relationships injured. Why “black lives matter” instead of “all lives matter”? The simple fact is people of color face a different world than those of us who enjoy the privilege of being born white. That seems to irk people. I know you didn’t choose your skin color. Neither did anyone else. That in and of itself is exactly why it’s a privilege. I grew up in an area where we could run around outside without fear of being killed. I know that if I am pulled over by a cop, the odds of me being beaten and arrested while innocent is pretty low. Does it happen? Sure. We can pull examples of white men who died as well at the hands of bad cops. The numbers show that it happens far more often to people of color, and that is the point.
Black men and boys face the highest risk of being killed by police–at a rate of 96 out of 100,000 deaths. By comparison, white men and boys face a lower rate of 39 per 100,000 deaths, despite being a bigger portion of the U.S. population. Overall, men faced a rate of 52 per 100,000 deaths. – Article on PBS by Laura Santhanam
The white experience in America and the black experience are two different things. I saw an image today, the one I used for this reflection, that said that “Privilege is when you think something is not a problem because it’s not a problem to you personally.” That could sum up the entirety of exactly why we should support the black lives matter movement. Because if all lives are made in the image of our God, in the image of our creator, then being in solidarity with those who experience existence in a way we do not is vital to our understanding of who God is. It matters to my black friend, my unofficially adopted black son, to my daughter. It matters to those inner-city youths whose future looks bleak because of the way our society is set up. It matters.
I don’t believe in rioting. I don’t believe in burning down buildings or beating people up. Violence is not the answer. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. once said: “A riot is the language of the unheard.” What is it we aren’t hearing? When people have chosen to kneel in silence we condemn them. When they have marched peacefully in the streets, we did not join them but criticized the movement. Our brothers and sisters have called out to us from the edge of the outside, asking us to bring them in to eat at the same table. Instead, we built a fence of systemic racism, maybe not even realizing it. We then threw money over the fence hoping it would fix the problem and went back to our own safe, clean environment.
What does any of this have to do with Pentecost? The first reading shows the disciples gathered in the upper room with the doors closed. They have been afraid, doubtful. Closed in they sit together with people of a like mind, people from the same experience. Praying, they wait. When the Holy Spirit descends they are driven into the world. Peter gives a speech to the crowd, lives are changed. They gave that message to all of the known world, a message that resounded in every language at once. The message was the good news of Jesus Christ. Today as a Church we celebrate that. Those of us lucky enough or privileged enough to attend Mass today will receive Jesus, and then be “sent forth” at the end of that Mass. We aren’t supposed to go sit in the silence of our home with only those who already have the message. We are supposed to go forth and proclaim the good news! To spread into the world the Gospel that says all men are created equal.
Black lives matter. That’s part of that message. It doesn’t place another person above someone, but rather brings our brothers and sisters to the table. It reminds all who hear it that right now their lives aren’t being treated with the dignity and respect that being made in the image of God demands. It’s scary sometimes to come out of our box, out of our comfort zone. That’s why we must rely on the Holy Spirit to give us the words. To drive us out of our own zone and into the lives of others. Jesus tells us in the Gospel that those who do not love Him, do not keep His Words, but those who do love Him, keep them. He also told us: “love one another, as I have loved you.” That’s why black lives matter. That’s why we should recognize our privilege, not to feel bad for it but to be grateful for it, and to use it to help others who do not have it. All of our blessings are from God. We are blessed, so we can be a blessing. Let’s begin to listen and help make changes in our government, in our laws, in our society that will bring all lives to the same level of mattering. We should also examine our hearts to see what changes we need to make to be sure we value all lives as well. Today is the time to make sure that all people of all colors, ethnicities, backgrounds, educational levels, and socioeconomic standings have a voice.
My daughter posted this analogy:
Your house is on fire. Would you want the firemen to hose down every other house before your house? No, their houses are fine. You need help, YOUR house is burning. That is the BLM movement right now. Their house is burning, they need more help than anything.
I truly believe the fires in the streets of America are a direct reflection of the fires that have been burning down hearts and souls for generations. It’s long past time that we begin to put those fires out so that healing can begin. We do need to know the riots are happening, they do need to be stopped. Let’s not lose sight of why they happened, of the people who are hurting and in anguish… of the house that’s on fire.
A reflection on the readings for Mass on Pentecost Sunday: May 31st, 2020.