Thoughts on the Death of George Floyd, A Message on Pentecost 2020

Pentecost
31 May 2020

Today is Pentecost. For many Christians, it is the birthday of their Church and would be the occasion for a great celebration. Yet, our nation needs this time to mourn the tragic death of George Floyd, a citizen and an African American man. At Pentecost, we ordinarily commemorate the descending of God’s Spirit upon the disciples of Jesus, after his Ascension, to renew the face of the earth; yet, this Pentecost, we must be compelled to atone for scorching the earth with our original sin of racism.

In the history of our country, racism is so pervasive and our repeated acts of atonement are shallow and insincere. Has the death of George Floyd become but another occasion when we feign sorrow? Will he be the latest example of how we anesthetize ourselves with words calling for order, dialogue and calm?  Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. warned us about our addictive behavior. In his “Letter From a Birmingham Jail,” Dr. King challenged “…the white moderate who is more devoted to order than to justice; who prefers a negative peace which is the absence of tension to a positive peace which is the presence of justice…”   
  
Justice calls for a right relationship. It has three components. There must be a right relationship with our God, with our neighbor, and with our earth. Today, our flawed relationship with all three components is being exposed. And, COVID-19 is confronting us on two fronts. It has revealed to us that we continue to betray our relationship with our environment as well as with our neighbors, especially our sisters and brothers of color, who are more vulnerable, have fewer resources, inconsistent access to good health care, and disproportionately suffer the effects of environmental degradation.

During this pandemic, we have been asked to practice “social distancing” so we can “flatten the curve.” But, we have forgotten the use of another metaphor. It is the “uneven playing field.” We have practiced on it since 1619.  That was the year that 30 slaves were brought to Jamestown in the colony of Virginia. In total, 12.5 million people from the African continent would be taken from their homeland and brought elsewhere; two million would perish. And 400,000 would be brought to the United States through what would be classified as The Middle Passage. It was an economic enterprise.

These slaves taught the colonists how to grow rice. They were forced to pick cotton. It would account for 50% of our nation’s exports and 66% of the world’s supply. The same slaves built plantations, our monuments and our railroads. Nikole Hannah-Jones, in “Democracy’s False Ideals,” argues that through their prophetic voices, their service in every war we have fought, their protection of our nation, and their bringing forth the economic prosperity and growth we enjoy, we can conclude that “blacks are the most American.”      
 
However, in the United States, blacks are excluded from or limited to a share in the resources they provide. Instead, whites, holding both power and privilege, have made a practice of enslaving them, punishing them, torturing them, lynching them, profiling them, and incarcerating them. Is this how we practice justice? How is this a right relationship with our sisters and brothers?   
 
Despite the treatment whites have provided, the black community of our nation continues to bring forth the ideals we espouse as a nation. Their current protests in our streets is a selfless act of generosity. Do not let the unlawful actions of the few distract from and silence the peaceful and prophetic witness of the many. At a time when congregating in large numbers is dangerous to your health and personal well-being, the black community is trying to promote our country’s foundational ideals and save members of the white community from ourselves. In the Pentecost celebration, we hear of the tongues of flame coming upon the disciples of Jesus so they renew the face of the earth. They are empowered to bring about the kingdom of God where there is a unified voice and effort for the marginalized, forgotten and disenfranchised.   
     
I am a white, Roman Catholic, Jesuit priest, who serves as the president of Rockhurst University. I wish to replace the usual effort of calling for dialogue, order and calm with: 1.) a profound apology for my own racism; 2.) an acknowledgment of my silence and the frequent silence of my Church and community to which I belong; and 3.) the commitment to do everything I can, in my position, to bring about that right relationship.

However, I cannot do this alone. To our companions of color, will you consider allowing me to earn your forgiveness and your accompaniment?  To our white companions, will you join me in becoming fully and correctly informed about the system of white supremacy constructed for our comfort and in the difficult, daily work of dismantling this system within ourselves and within our society? Only together, in right relationship with one another, with the earth and with God, may true justice reign.

Thomas B. Curran, S.J.
President