Blood on our hands

Ahmaud Arbery died, and there is blood on our hands. It is his blood and Botham Jean's blood and Atatiana Jefferson's blood and Tamir Rice's blood and Philando Castile's blood and Trayvon Martin's blood and Eric Garner's blood and the blood of dozens of other black men and women who have become hashtags and the uncounted others whose stories died with them.

I know, you are not the one who pulled the trigger. Neither did I. I believe murder is wrong. I'm sure you would agree. How is it, then, that I can say that this man's blood is on our hands? And whose hands am I even referring to?

The hands in question are my own. I am writing about my hands. As a citizen of the United States of America, as a Christian, as a human of European ancestry with white skin, there is blood on my hands. It might be on yours, too.

Ahmaud Arbery's blood is on our hands because white supremacy is present in our hearts and our homes and our churches. We would never say that white people are superior. We insist that we don't believe that. We have black friends. But white supremacy affects us in ways that we may not realize because it has always been a part of our country. We inherit this murderous disease, and unless we confront it and fight it and do not back down, we will pass it on to those who come after us.

From its birth, our country has valued the lives of white people over everyone else. We see this from the moment that European people arrived in North America and began to push out the people who already lived here. We see this as generations of mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers were stolen from Africa and enslaved in our country, made to count as only a fraction of a human. We see this in the lynchings, the violence, and the brutality that did not end at the Civil War or the Civil Rights Movement. We see this when families are ripped apart and when children are separated from their parents at the border. When white people for generations have not been held responsible for death of black men, women, and children, it is not suprirising that the two men who murdered Ahmaud Arbery were not arrested for 74 days. Can it be that these things continue to occur because, as a country, we continue to allow it to occur by failing to enact justice through making excuses and exceptions instead of appropriately punishing murderers?

White supremacy shows up in little and big ways. White supremacy shows up every time we insist that we are color blind or that we live in a post racial society. White supremacy shows up when we deny white privilege because we worked hard to get to where we are. It shows up in the way we vote, in the way we blame victims, claim reverse racism, and think that we are innocent just because we have black friends. White supremacy shows up when we meet racist comments with silence or mentally make excuses for racist opinions that we hear. White supremacy shows up when we wonder why we can't all just get along. Obviously, we are against murder. I think that is safe to assume. But this white supremacy that we harbor, often without knowing it, is what builds the foundation for violence and murder. The most extreme acts of white supremacy depend on the more subtle ones.

Perhaps what angers me the most about white supremacy is that so much of the church has been silent about it. As believers in the God who made all people in the image of God, we should be leading the charge against the structures and systems that strip our neighbors of that image to make their affliction more comfortable. As Christians who fight for the sanctity of life, we should be fighting for life even beyond the womb. Life does not end at birth. As disciples, we should be loving our neighbors as Christ commanded and modeled by loving us to the point of death even while we hated him. As children of the God who sees those who are oppressed and abused and shows up for them, we should be seeing and showing up.

I know this is hard. But while we wrap our minds around the fact that even in our best intentions we have been complicit in some of the ugliest, most hate-filled acts imaginable, white supremacy is still killing people. So, here are some practical steps we can take together:

1. First we must repent. Repentance calls for change, for new direction, for transformation. We have been a part of something that we don't want to be a part of anymore, and it is only by the power of God at work in us that we can make changes.
2. We must do our homework. We have a lot to learn, and to do that, we must listen to the voices of people of color. Are all of your favorite authors and pastors and the people you look to for leadership on the internet people who look like you? Read books. Listen to podcasts. Hear stories. I have listed a few resources below, including books and podcasts, that may be a good place to begin. There are so many more that can be added to those lists.
3. Our money should get involved in this. We can do this by donating to organizations and financially supporting groups that are fighting for justice.
4. There is going to come time for some uncomfortable conversations with friends and family members. We must prepare for those conversations.
5. We need to use political power. This means voting and holding local and national leaders accountable.

Until we examine ourselves and make every move possible to eradicate white supremacy from our hearts and homes and churches, there will still be blood on our hands.

Books to read:
The Color of Compromise, by Jemar Tisby
I'm Still Here, by Austin Channing Brown
Divided by Faith, by Michael Emerson and Christian Smith
Just Mercy, by Bryan Stevenson

Podcasts to listen to:
Pass the Mic
We Talk Different
Truth's Table
Footnotes with Jemar
Jude 3 Project

Organizations to support:
NAACP
The Witness: A Black Christian Collective