Blessed Are Black Lives

Six months ago, I sat in a lecture by Patrisse Cullors and Opal Tometi the founders of the Black Lives Matters movement. Their lecture began by recounting their personal stories. I remember being horrified as Ms. Cullors told the story of her brother being beaten by police and then disappearing. Their stories were difficult, but I didn’t go to a Black Lives Matters lecture because I wanted to hear about easy. In going to this lecture, I wanted to listen, to understand their pain. I wanted to bare witness to it.

Many things from this lecture have sat with me across the past few months.  I think about their pain as I drive from Grosse Pointe to Detroit, watching manicured lawns turn into abandoned buildings. I think about their worries as I pass a car with a black man in it, surrounded by three police cars. I think about the injustice they expressed when I hear a young white woman complain that her mediocre is better than a black person’s best. I think of their anger as I learn that police systems require arrest quotas to fulfill contracts. I think of their dreams when I play with my 7-year old best friend, wondering if one day if we can create a future that doesn’t fail her. As I look around at these moments of pain, I wonder what I can do to alleviate it. I recently read this beautiful article, about how, as white allies our job is not to take on immobilizing guilt, but active responsibility. We can start by speaking to others about why black lives DO matter.

It seems silly to me in many ways that we have to explain why a life matters. Why must our black brothers and sisters explain why their existence is important? Shouldn’t it be inherent to us? But somehow it isn’t. When people say “Black Lives Matter,” many more echo back with “All Lives Matters.” Yet, when people say “Police Lives Matter,” this same refrain is not echoed back. Why do we only add addendums to black lives? Why do we not regard black lives with the same worth as white lives? The fact we have to ask these questions is abhorrent, but maybe enforces more why this is important.

So as this is a blog with a spiritual twist, I hope to talk about this from a faith prospective. I’ve recently seen the above cartoon, which has helped me connect the Black Lives Matter movement with the Beatitudes. As you might recall, Jesus sat on a hill and preached about the importance of the lives of the vulnerable. He told us those who are poor, are meek, are persecuted. Are the black lives in our country not shaped by structural systems that allow for little upward economic mobility? Are not black lives forced into meekness by giving them lack of voice, oppressing them in the cruelest of ways for centuries? Are not black lives persecuted, seen as less worthy than white lives, sacrificed for trigger happy righteousness? Of course, Jesus sees the value of each and every life, but here, just like the BLM movement does, he specifically calls out those who are at most risk.

Faith isn’t it easy. It requires humility. It requires us to realize that sometimes what Jesus is calling us to isn’t what is going to help us personally. We have to let go of our own sense of righteousness. We need to see how we can use our inherent privileges to speak up for others. But, also, let ourselves be quiet so that the voices of the vulnerable can be heard. So we can all bear witness to the pain of people like Opal and Patrisse, but also our neighbors and friends.

Most important, Jesus says “blessed are the peacemakers.” We should aspire to be peacemakers. Jesus didn’t create peace with blanket statements that made everyone feel good, but with calling people to justice. We should all be working to create peace by taking on the pain of others, by baring witness to it. We should echo his beatitudes- Blessed are the Poor in the Spirit, Blessed are the meek, Blessed are the persecuted, Blessed are black lives.