Black Lives Matter

Like most people, I have been appalled by events in the States. George Floyd should be alive today. If he had been white, he probably would be.

Black Lives Matter. That should be something that comes without explanation, without a follow up, without a but.

Unfortunately, I find myself, along with many others, having to respond to so many people who take issue with this statement. Who follow it up with “All Lives Matter” or (White Lives Matter). Who see it as an attack on themselves, who think it belittles their worth.

When I was younger I was quite accident prone. I have broken both arms, split my head open, nearly lost a finger, broken ribs and torn ligaments. Each and every time, my parents took me to the hospital. I was hurt and needed help. They knew their other children were safe and well, so they cared for the one who wasn’t.

They didn’t love me more but I needed something the others didn’t. In Luke chapter 15 Jesus tells the parable of the lost sheep. A man had lost one sheep so he left the 99 who were safe and went looking for the one who was lost. He cared for all his sheep, but he knew that one of them needed something more from him at that time.

Black Lives Matter. Because they need something from us that white people don’t. They need us to care about the racism and hatred they face every day. They need us to be angry enough to do something about it. They need us to love them enough to bind their wounds, to carry them home, to stand with them, and in front of them to keep them from harm.

They need us to listen. To act justly and to take down the structures that oppress them. We are the privileged 99 who are safe and secure. Jesus is the good shepherd who went looking for the one who was lost, to save it from harm. We must do the same.