Like so many of you, as I watched the distressing events of last night unfold in Ferguson on the television before me, the knot in my stomach grew, the despair in my heart deepened, and I kept saying to myself, and sometimes out loud, “Oh my God.” I don’t mean “Oh my God” in a flippant OMG kind of way, but “Oh my God” in a lament kind of way, the kind of lament passed on to us by forebearers in faith, the kind of lament attested to in the prophets and the psalmist of the Hebrew bible, the kind of lament modeled by Jesus of the gospels when he wept over Jerusalem. The kind of lament that comes when despair and sorrow and prayer are all mixed up in a way that goes so far beyond words…more like groan….”oh my God.”
Early this morning, as I tried to bring some order to my lament, to give expression to that groan, it was helpful for me to make a list, a prayer list.
I pray for Mike Brown’s parents.
I pray for Officer Wilson.
I pray for the community of Ferguson, for it’s people, for it’s leaders.
I pray for peace in Ferguson and around the nation.
I pray for justice too; a justice that will rise up and shatter the racism that divides us, a justice that can heal the history that defines us, a justice that can give each and every one of us a path forward to that world we dream about where our children won’t be judged by the color of their skin but by the content of our character.
I pray for a day when African American parents won’t have to have that conversation with their children and especially their sons, a conversation I didn’t have to have with my children, about how to be careful and respond appropriately to law enforcement any time anywhere for anything.
I pray for a day when white people of power like me will be able to just sit and listen to people of color without judgment, without defensiveness…because as I have learned since August, every black and brown man has a story to tell about their encounter with police; fathers, teenagers, college graduates, professors, deans, business men, unemployed…it doesn’t matter.
I pray for day when deadly force isn’t the acceptable response to an unarmed 18 year old who stole a pack of cigars; when a young black man isn’t immediately judged by an officer, or a security guard, or a self-appointed vigilante to look suspicious, or to be dangerous, or to “look like a demon”.
I pray for the day when parents of all color can have the same dreams for their children as I have for mine; when parents living in poverty can have the same dreams for their children as I have for mine; when parents with no education of their own can have the same dream for their children as I have for mine.
Oh my God!
In his Letter from the Birmingham Jail, The Rev Dr Martin Luther King Jr, offered his lament for the church, the silence of the white church amid the struggle “to rid our nation of racial and economic injustice.”
He described the twentieth century faith community that was “largely adjusted to the status quo, standing as a tail-light behind other communities of agencies rather than a headlight leading men and women to higher levels of justice”.
So, tonight, on behalf of the Princeton Clergy Association, I offer my prayer, that amid the 21st century struggle to rid our nation of racial injustice, and economic injustice, and justice injustice, that our faith community in Princeton might shine a light, a godly light, on a higher level of justice for all.
David A. Davis
Princeton
November 25, 2014