Without a death sentence, as I understand, there is just one appeal, after which we never have to hear the killer’s name again.
The dead become a statistic that we debate regarding who has the right idea about what they did and did not deserve, and in so doing we convince ourselves that we have been granted the rights as gatekeepers who hold the key to determining whether or not someone was worthy enough to finish living out their story.
Only syncretized faiths value the supremacy of human laws. We value truth. The truth is that the state took another Black girl from her family under the pretense of safety, and then it killed her.
Our media obsession with the taking of life (whether fictional or under the guise of “news”) literally defines our culture and era. And nothing captures our attention, passion, clicks, and eyeballs more than the portrayals of Black deaths at the hands of white vigilantes . . .
So a moment where someone is able to condemn murder and distinguish a Glock from a Taser might be retweeted or shared thousands of times, but it is not confession, repentance, and rebuke of the racist, misogynistic, homophobic, and nationalist ideas that he has preached and platformed for the last 60 years.
With each tearful testimony, I think of what happened on that street in Minneapolis, as regular people watched heartless authorities while a man died unjustly. And I remember what happened on a street in Jerusalem two millennia ago.
If we’re serious about pursuing deep and meaningful cross-cultural relationships, we need to put in a bit more work. We can’t just live in our own lane and interact when someone different from us happens to occasionally show up where we live.
AACC also cries out against violence perpetrated in the name of Christianity. We condemn the evasion of responsibility by churches and denominations that have historically perpetuated the social conditions for attitudes and perspectives that have led to the unequal, unjust, and ungodly treatment and murders of racialized minorities.