Dear People of Christ Church,
As I mentioned in my sermon on Sunday, this week I continue to feel very “Adventy”—longing, hoping for the restoration of all things in Christ. Our reading from Isaiah on Sunday begged for the intervention of God—“Oh, that you would tear down the heavens and come down!”—the prophet speaks for a people lamenting that even their most righteous deeds are not enough.

There are no easy answers. It’s easy to say “Don’t be racist,” but harder to change the fact that our society still struggles with the legacy of years of inequality and injustice, structures of poverty and prejudice that entrap generation after generation. Yesterday, again, another grand jury chose not to indict another police officer for killing an unarmed black man. Eric Garner’s death was ruled as a homicide, and still, no indictment. As Garner said he couldn’t breathe, did the man choking him realize he was taking a life with his own hands? That one of God’s own beloved children was dying? Did he realize his own belovedness at the time? Did he remember he was created for more than fear?

The reason these grand jury cases are so troubling is that the message is that there is no chance—no chance—to ask if something illegal happened. The job of a grand jury is not to decide whether someone is guilty or innocent; its job is to decide whether there’s a question. The protest phrase “Black Lives Matter” is not to contradict the sentiment that all lives matter; it’s to contradict the idea that Michael Brown’s and Eric Garner’s (and so many others’) lives don’t. And that’s the message being sent here. In his testimony Darren Wilson described Michael Brown as looking like “a demon.” Wilson was afraid and felt threatened, but this comment exposes the attitude that the black man in front of Wilson did not seem human. That’s not a reasoned, personal decision based on evidence; that’s a response absorbed by living in a world in which certain lives may not quite be worthy. It’s sin, personal as well as communal.

This goes far beyond the question of police training or practice. As I said on Sunday when we dedicated altar linens in Jim Hewitt’s memory, there are great people who are police officers. And it’s not a zero sum—for one doesn’t mean against another. This is about all of us. When we don’t talk about race and racism, that’s on all of us. When we pretend that everyone gets a fair chance in America, that’s on all of us. When we don’t see our brothers and sisters of all races, economic circumstances, and nationalities as worthy of protection—that’s on all of us. We grow up in a society torn by racism—that’s not our choice. But it is our choice to acknowledge racism and its impact on us—or not.

In my sermon on Sunday I talked about waiting for Jesus. Waiting for reconciliation, waiting for justice. This Advent waiting isn’t passive—it’s the kind of waiting, Mark Allen Powell says, that people in love do. Edge of your seat, heart in your mouth, waiting, longing for the one you love to come. That’s the waiting we’re called to in Advent—to wait for Christ as though we could see him coming already. And this waiting for the one we love is about loving those Jesus loves. The imprisoned, the imperfect, the riotous, the weeping. It’s love in action, love in protest, love in reality. It’s love that has the power of God to confront injustice, to know that all of us are created by one God who loves us, a God who will accompany us in difficult conversation and forgive us when we fail.

Blessings,
Sara+

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Wondering what you can do to remember that all lives matter? Check out the Enough is Enough Rally planned at Boston Common tonight at 7pm for the Garner family; stop by the Immigrant Experience potluck that WATCH is hosting at 6:30 (at First Parish); give for gift cards for GLBT teens for our Christmas Outreach. Next week, think about joining our bishop and diocese at the vigil for an end to gun violence on the anniversary of the Newtown School Shooting. There is far to go, and much love to give.

For some fascinating research on the science of prejudice, see this essay on Bill Moyers; for an opportunity to explore your own biases, take the “Implicit Association” Test (there are quizzes both for gender and race).