The Tower of Babel or Pentecost? by Emmitt Drumgoole

Everyone is speaking, and almost no-one is hearing.

The evidence is found on our social media walls and comment sections. 

We function more like the Tower of Babel than a united nation.

We remember the Tower of Babel, don’t we? The place in Genesis 11 where the languages of the people were mixed up so that each group only heard and spoke in their own language. Everyone could speak and hear, but no group could understand what the other groups were saying.

Our digital worlds function all too closely as the digital version of Genesis 11. Let us talk, as long as we don’t have to listen.

The month of May brought to light two events that shook our nation and has resulted in much talk about racism. The first was the inhumane killing of Ahmad Arbery, who was killed by citizens who wanted to detain him for “fitting the description” of a burglary suspect. The second, the death of George Floyd, who died in the custody of the police, of which an officer pressed his knee into the neck of Floyd while he expressed repeatedly, “I can’t breathe”.

By now you have heard of these instances. By now you have read the articles and have seen the videos. You’ve glanced at the memes, seen the protests, and witnessed the rioting. You have seen, but do you hear them?

There is much being said. 

Buried beneath the binary, overly simplistic, talking points and rebuttals that ignite social media content wars is the collective cry of black people who feel these deaths more deeply than many can ever imagine. The deaths themselves are a cry that is all too familiar. Standing alone, the deaths of George Floyd and Ahmaud Arbery are unfortunate incidences that resulted in the lives of two young black men ending tragically. But events like this do not stand alone. They stand in a long, long line of tragic deaths and mistreatment of black people that is as long as our country is old. From inhumane enslavement to the horrific practice of lynching, to Jim Crow laws to stop and frisk practices. They are all connected, tethered to one another by the thread of racism that pervades our thinking, society, and institutions.

The death of George Floyd speaks to us. His death is a voice, and it sings a haunting melody that floats in concert with the thousands of unjust killings that have long gone overlooked and buried in our nation’s history. Their blood cries in concert from the ground. And it should shake our bones.

With the widespread use of video recording we are able to see the racism that has simmered just beneath the surface of our nation. With incidences like these coming to light, we cannot refuse to see it. We cannot refuse to see ourselves. We see that racism has not died. It is woven into the fabric of our nation. We see it and don’t know what to do with it. We need fresh wind. We need fresh fire.

As we consider the miracle of Pentecost, the vivid imagery of tongues of fire gets plenty of attention. People of different nationalities, all speaking different languages. But the miracle is not only that there were tongues as of fire, but that each person heard what was being said in their native language. They heard in a way that deeply resonated in their being. Through the Spirit, they became deep listeners to each other.

Listening is the most important thing that we can do right now. And we have plenty whom we can listen to.

Ahmad Arbery speaks to us. George Floyd is speaking to us. Protesters are speaking to us. The tears of Ahmaud’s mother. the anger of George Floyd’s family. The chants of Black Lives Matter is speaking to us. Yes, even the riots speak to us. It was Dr. MLK who often said that riots are the language of the unheard. We might do well to ask what they are saying. Above all else, the Spirit of the living God speaks to us, reminding us of our call as the church, to live and speak prophetically, to a world that needs the hope found in the Gospel. the hope that the Christ that was crucified, innocently and brutally, lives, by which we too, who bear Christ’s suffering as we stand in the face of injustice, bear witness to all people,  that God loves the oppressed and gives strength to the downtrodden. Christ was acquainted with the grief, surely also the grief of those wrongly excused and heinously executed. Why? Because he was too. 

Will we listen? Will we hear?

One of the most asked questions I receive after events such as these is, “What do I do next?” I don’t always have a neat tidy answer for this. I believe that the first step is to listen. To hear. To check-in with people of color. A side note, do not be disappointed or offended if your black friends do not respond or chose not to talk to you. But if someone chooses to talk to you, Listen. Hear what is spoken. Then listen deeper, to the things unsaid as well as said.

Second, ask good questions. Good questions are better than bad answers any day.

Thirdly, challenge language and attitudes that make light of the lament of people groups, African American or otherwise. Much of these attitudes are steeped in white supremacy and racism. 

Fourthly, do the work. Read books. Listen to podcasts. Whatever it takes to be educated in the ways that racism affects people of color.

Lord, set us ablaze. That we may speak and hear one another.