A Personal Reflection from our Interim Executive Director

Every Sunday morning, I rise early to send out a scripture accompanied by a brief meditation to my family (my four sisters and two cousins). They are, in many ways, my congregation.  I am grateful for them and the ways we nurture and care for each other.  When I awakened on Sunday morning, January 29th, I struggled to find words of comfort for myself and my family.

I forced myself to watch the video of Tyre Nichols’ brutal beating on Friday night, January 27th, because I needed to be a witness to what happened.  The images are etched in my memory forever.  The pain and anger I felt are still very much present.  As the mother of a 34-year-old Black son, I live daily with the fear that this may and could happen to him at any time.  

Since the video aired, I have been trying to make sense of what occurred.  How could five of my Black brothers beat their younger Black brother while restrained and then leave him sitting up against the vehicle for 40 minutes without assisting him?  How could the EMTs who swore an oath to “to do no harm” stand by for 20 minutes without providing medical care?  How could the firefighters turn a blind eye and leave without even an attempt to help?  How could the bystanders who came do nothing? What happened on that day? What could possibly happen in the heart and soul of someone to cause them to act in such an inhumane way; to look into the face of another human being who is suffering and show no mercy or compassion?

I have no answers to any of these questions.  What I know is that I am tired.  I am tired of seeing the same images shown repeatedly on our television screens of violence at the hands of the police who swear an oath to “serve and protect.”  I am tired of seeing the faces of Black men and women who have died from senseless acts of violence and suffering.  Enough is Enough!  Enough is Enough! What more will our congressional leaders, our justice system, and our police leaders need to see to enact change? What will need to happen for us to SEE every person as a human being with worth and value regardless of the color of their skin? 

I find myself repeating over and over the words of the Psalmist, “How long, O, Lord? … How long must I bear pain in my soul, and have sorrow in my heart all day long? ... Consider and answer me, O Lord my God!  Give light to my eyes … (Psalms 13:1a, 2a; 3a, NRSV) But even amid the Psalmist’s lament, these words at the end of the Psalm are where we find our hope, “… I trusted in your steadfast love; my heart shall rejoice in your salvation. I will sing to the Lord, because he has dealt bountifully with me.”