In 2020, I was undone

In my opinion, it’s simple: Black lives matter. I’m not going to justify my belief in this fact. I shouldn’t even have to explain to you that I believe in the cause, even while I don’t necessarily agree with all the BLM organization itself stands for.

George Floyd’s murder—and the white church’s response to it—is what decidedly sparked my outrage. But it didn’t stop there. I wrote at length about what I was feeling over the course of 2020, and it was the primary reason that the year felt so difficult for me. I experienced a great deal of relational conflict over my care for the Black community. The grief was real.

That same year, I even got a tattoo showing my solidarity. Here’s what I wrote about it…

August 24th is a date that always stands out to me. That’s because, when I was 2 years and 2 days old, my brother, David, was born. We both grew up with very memorable birthdates which were fun to rattle off quickly—8/22/82 and 8/24/84.

We had a fabulous and easy childhood. We lived on a greenbelt, right beside a park where we could run to our hearts’ content, play tag, bike, and enjoy an uninterrupted, protected, and ultimately privileged life. We didn’t have anything to worry about.

Fast forward a few decades to August 24, 2019. As my younger brother was celebrating his 35th birthday with our family, his wife, and their three young children, something else memorable was happening in Aurora, Colorado.

That’s when and where Elijah McClain, a young, innocent, gentle, introverted, and self-proclaimed “different” black man of just 23 years was being choked out, mistreated, and, ultimately, killed.

But before he couldn’t breathe any longer, he used some of his final breaths to speak love and life over his assailants. He chose to see beauty. He chose to communicate with compassion, even as he was being tortured. He offered to lay down his identity so that his life might continue.

Did you hear Elijah gasping in that horrific video? Have you read his tragic last words? Read them again, even if you did.

I can't breathe. I have my ID right here. My name is Elijah McClain. That's my house. I was just going home. I'm an introvert. I'm just different. That's all. I'm so sorry. I have no gun. I don't do that stuff. I don't do any fighting. Why are you attacking me? I don't even kill flies! I don't eat meat! But I don't judge people, I don't judge people who do eat meat. Forgive me. All I was trying to do was become better. I will do it. I will do anything. Sacrifice my identity, I'll do it. You all are phenomenal. You are beautiful and I love you. Try to forgive me. I'm a mood Gemini. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry. Ow, that really hurt! You are all very strong. Teamwork makes the dream work. {Crying.} Oh, I'm sorry, I wasn't trying to do that. I just can't breathe correctly. {Proceeds to vomit from the pressure on his neck.}

Elijah will never celebrate his 35th birthday like my brother did that day, let alone his 24th. And there’s that number again. I can’t not see it.

Elijah could have been my brother. Or yours. And if you want, you can go on living your life as if incidents like these are not happening. But I can’t. I stand with the Black community, and I have etched Elijah’s final words upon my body forever so I won’t soon forget to speak up in the name of love and compassion, even in the face of injustice. Will you?

In short, Black lives matter. They always will. The question is if we will recognize it and do the work necessary to walk the talk as Americans, especially for those of us who call ourselves Christians. Jesus came for us all, especially for the marginalized, oppressed, rejected, and broken. If we truly do believe that all “men are created equal” and we are allegiant to the idea of “liberty and justice for all,” it’s time we start acting like it. ✊🏾✊🏿✊🏽