I Can't Breathe

In the time of hearing and watching a black man, being knelt on by three police officers until his calls for help, his calls for "I can't breathe" and his calls for his mother finally were silenced, this reflection was shared and it includes a story in which Jesus denies his care (at first) to an outsider ....

Jesus got up and left there and went to the region of Tyre [and Sidon, the coastal area of Phoenicia]. He entered a house and did not want anyone to know about it; but it was impossible for Him to be hidden [from the public]. Instead, after hearing about Him, a woman whose little daughter had an unclean spirit immediately came and fell at His feet. Now the woman was a Gentile (Greek), a Syrophoenician by nationality. And she kept pleading with

Him to drive the demon out of her daughter. He was saying to her, “First let the children [of Israel] be fed, for it is not right to take the children’s bread and throw it to the pet dogs (non Jews).” But she replied, “Yes, Lord, but even the pet dogs under the table eat the children’s crumbs.” And He said to her, “Because of this answer [reflecting your humility and faith], go [knowing that your request is granted]; the demon has left your daughter[permanently].” And returning to her home, she found the child lying on the couch [relaxed and resting], the demon having gone. [The Amplified Bible, Mark 7: 24-30]

Before I begin, I want to issue a warning – this message will likely make you extremely uncomfortable. And I want to issue an invitation – when you are done reading or listening, sit with that discomfort quietly for as long as you can, and ask yourself:

- “What is Spirit speaking to you in this discomfort?”

- “What is God, Jesus and the Gospel saying to you in this discomfort?”

And reach out to me to talk with me, make a plan for us to sit together to follow up if you just cannot make any headway of meaning. Because together we will move forward in love – ALWAYS.

I have no difficulty seeing Jesus in the face of the poor, the hungry, the homeless or the addicted. But when someone’s ignorance and intentional blindness allows them to be unkind, violent or just plain stupid, I readily confess, I really have a hard time seeing Jesus in them. And when I am hurting or angry, when I am fearful or feeling vengeful, my incapacity to see Jesus in others also becomes somewhat limited. I become the victim of a peculiar kind of blindness in response to blindness which can be very unhelpful.

It is often in these moments that I pull this gospel reading into the forefront of my consciousness, and enter deeply into the scene – to try and realize Jesus is even in those who “just do not get it”. To see that Jesus is even in those who do not see or understand the reality of dis-privilege. And also to realize that, no matter what demon possesses me or those for whom I advocate, if I remain humble and faithful, and seek to keep speaking the truth calmly without throwing things, the work of love will prevail.

And so it is that I went completely off lectionary with the Gospel today, to use this story of the

beleaguered Syro-phoenecian woman, to enter the discussion on our response to racial disprivilege, the Black Lives Matter activity in the past 10 days or so, and the untimely death of

one George Floyd, under the knees of police officers, supposedly over a counterfeit $20 bill.

I wonder how many of you watched that video on the news or online? The video of George

Floyd’s death? The news story described the passing of a counterfeit $20 bill at a convenience

store, and the store owners or workers called the police. When they arrived, they got Mr

Floyd, a very tall black man, out of his vehicle and first moved him to the sidewalk. Photos

show him sitting on the pavement, leaned up against the wall, cowering. Then they put him in

a police car against his protests, and he ended up coming out the other door with three police

officers supposedly restraining him (although he was not visibly struggling or fighting them)

on the street.

One had a knee to his neck,

the other a knee to his back

and the third a knee to his legs.

Three armed police officers, three knees, restraining one man on the street. Bystanders began

videotaping and asking the officers to release him because at some point Mr Floyd stopped

moving. At some point he stopped saying he could not breathe. Finally, when the paramedics

arrive, they had to ask the police to remove themselves from off the now not moving body of

Mr Floyd. He was pronounced dead upon arrival at the hospital.

I resisted watching the video footage until last night, because I was already demon-possessed

… possessed by the deep anger and fear and vitriol of knowing what it is to be a person of

colour on this continent. I was already demon-possessed, and I did not want to feed the

demon any more. Yet, I made myself watch the video last night because I wanted to honestly

be able to ask you what you saw and what you felt if and when you watched it. Then I wanted

to tell you what I felt.

So what did you see? What did you feel?

If we were together at church this is the part where I would say “don’t all answer at once

now” And you would chuckle, and maybe the first response would float down from the choir

loft. And then a few would come from the pews … as it is, I will go with comments I saw on

facebook from acquaintances, friends and colleagues who are white.

These were some of the comments I saw online from my friends and colleagues online, many

of whom are white:

“It was horrible”

“It was un-imaginable”

“He called out so many times – I can’t breathe”

“He called for his mom”

“It made me so angry”

“It took so long, and the police just would not get off of him”

Here is how it made me feel:

- It made me feel like I was laying there in the road being choked to death.

- It made me feel like no place in this world is safe for someone who looks like me.

- It made me feel like I could not breathe.

It made me feel so angry that for some days I walked around feeling swatches of hatred for

people just because they are white. I felt demon possessed. Even as I write this I feel that

demon twitching awake. I’m trying to keep my knee on its neck. To cut off its life breathe. To

kill it dead. I am not proud of this feeling – but this is how I have felt at times.

The news and the video made me want to throw something, to scream, to shake someone and

ask (in a speaking moistly way):

- do you not see that this is systemic? This is not one man or one incident – this is the

life of a racially disprivileged person.

- Do you not understand that it does not matter whether I am your pastor or your friend

or your colleague, if you are white and I am a person of colour we occupy different

worlds because of the assumptions that will be made just because of the colour of our

skins?

This week, it was tiring to wear my natural pigmentation. It was exhausting to be a person of

colour. This week if I could have swapped my beautiful brown skin for yours, I would have

done it in a heartbeat, and I would have walked away leaving my brown skin behind, so that,

when this news cycle on racism is over, I too could enjoy the privilege of forgetting about it

and moving on to the next thing that will come up to horrify us in the news.

This week’s pain and exhaustion made COVID isolation seem like a walk in the park in

comparison. This has been my experience … this is my witness.

So I come to the Syro-Phoenecian woman story as both the woman and her daughter. I feel

like I am possessed by the demons of fear and anger and sometimes a vengeful hatred. I feel

like I am the mother, coming to plead with a dominant society and a recognized Messiah – I

come begging for healing, I come begging for care, I come begging for attention.

Jesus’ initial response comes from his privileged position in the society. He is a Jewish man (I

realize it might come as a surprise for some folks that Jesus was not a Christian!) and as a

Jewish man, and a Jewish leader, he identifies himself as one with a responsibility to first feed

the children of Israel, before the dogs are fed. Jesus identifies himself as one of the privileged

class of God’s chosen people – come to attend to God’s chosen people – not the dogs.

Racism was alive and well in Jesus’ time, and this was Jesus’ blind privilege speaking. We

know Jesus did not mean to be unkind, or snotty – as far as he was concerned he was just

speaking the truth to this non-Jewish woman. What he had – the safety and healing he could

offer were not for her kind of people, only his kind of people.

The woman identifies herself as a dog, and she says even the dogs are passed the scraps

from the table. The woman acknowledges the reality of systemic racism and disprivilege, and

appeals to the charity that would be extended even to a pet.

Perhaps most important is this: she persists. And she does not even ask for equal treatment

to the children of Israel, she asks only for the treatment or care a household pet (versus a

stray) might get. In one sense she asks for adoption, even as a lesser member, into the

family that eats from the table. She pleads because she does not want her daughter to be

possessed by this demon anymore.

I plead because I don’t want to be possessed by this demon anymore.

How do the disciples of Jesus respond?

Interestingly, in the Gospel of Matthew rendition of this same scripture, the disciples of Jesus

try to shut the woman up, because it seems she has been “shouting after” them for

sometime, asking for their attention.

How long has the Black Lives Matter movement been going now?

“And His disciples came and asked Him [repeatedly], “Send her away, because she keeps

shouting out after us.”

Not only did his disciples want to send her away, Jesus himself was going to deny her …

He answered, “I was commissioned by God and sent only to the lost sheep of the house of

Israel.”

But the woman persists in faith. She believes in the Messiah, she believes in the Good News of

love he bears, and she persists. She believes that even the smallest attention, the slightest

crumb from Him will bring deliverance.

And I find myself holding to that. That pleading for the crumb of acknowledgment and action

from those Gospel-followers who are race-privileged to bring healing to the situation in which

we find ourselves.

Many, so many of my white friends have said to me this past week “Oh but I do not see your

colour” or “I just see you.” And I have to say these difficult to speak truths:

- if you do not see that you are privileged because you are not being singled out and

followed in a store (or not served in a store) because you are racially profiled,

- if you do not recognize your privilege when in a room filled to the overflowing, the seats

beside you are filled and the ones that flank me remain empty – people would rather

stand.

- if you do not recognize your privilege when I receive disparaging comments about

“those immigrants being a burden on socirty” and you do not hear such comments

made about you,

- if you do not recognize your privilege because you’ve never been singled out as a

potential terrorist simply because of the colour of your skin,

then you have failed to actually see me.

You have seen the me that fits comfortably for you, but not the system of injustice and

oppression within which I walk and breathe and exist. You need to see my colour, and

understand that what happens on account of my colour needs healing. You need to see it as

demonic. You need to see that this demon possesses me. You need to see that it hurts, and

not turn away deftly because I am your friend, your pastor or because you do not see colour.

But I am not going to allow your blindness, systemic blindness to go unchallenged. Like the

woman, I will persist. I will plead for the charity you would offer even to a pet – pay attention

to what is going on. Something is wrong here – give it even the crumbs of your attention to

make it heal.

I take hope in knowing that even Jesus, even Jesus made such oversights. Even Jesus was

open to correction. Even Jesus had to be brought up short, brought to attention from this

woman on the margins who reminded him of the system that considered her less than human.

And Jesus healed. 

Jesus heals.

The persistence of the woman with Jesus brings about healing.

So when you hear of protests and riots, when you hear of anger and reactive behaviours,

when you hear your pastor going on and on and perhaps making you have all kinds of

uncomfortable feelings that make you want her to stop talking – know that you are witnessing

the reality of systemic oppression which is demonic in its nature – it has claws and fangs and

teeth that cannot readily be removed. And those claws and fangs and teeth are not just

hurting some people in the USA: they hurt me, they hurt indigenous people in Canada, they

hurt visible minorities … they hurt and hurt and hurt.

I appeal to the Christ in you to listen beyond your defensiveness of how not racist you are.

I appeal to the Christ in you to listen beyond the terrible discomfort – whether defensive

response, guilt, shame, anger or helplessness – listen beyond the discomfort this makes you

feel.

I appeal to the Christ in you to remain present long enough for the protests of the oppressed

to be heard, so that the healing that heralds the Kingdom of God can happen.

And He said to her, “Because of this answer [reflecting your humility and faith], go [knowing

that your request is granted]; the demon has left your daughter[permanently].” And returning

to her home, she found the child lying on the couch [relaxed and resting], the demon having

gone.

I want to be free of this demonic possession of systemic racial oppression – permanently – not

just when this news cycle has past.

I want to be a child of God, just like you – lying on the couch, in my own skin – relaxed,

unafraid and at peace.