Tag Archives: george floyd

Taking a Knee

I’m taking a knee. I’m taking a knee for you.

People take to their knees in prayer. When I kneel, I humble myself and say, ‘I’m willing to intentionally be less than you.’ It’s plain I’m to do this before God. But I also should do this for you, because Jesus told His disciples, ‘This I command you; that you love one another.’ Love is a sacrifice. Love is taking a knee.

I don’t kneel before you because of your greatness, but because I’m commanded to love you, sacrificially. I don’t kneel to glorify you, but to acknowledge my own flaws before God. I take a knee now to demonstrate that there’s something gravely wrong.

So, the knee is a tool – a tool for proclaiming my humility.

The knee has also been turned into a weapon – a weapon of oppression.

George Floyd didn’t ask to take a knee, but he took a knee to his death. It wasn’t his knee and it wasn’t his choice. He prayed aloud until he died, but no one listened.

I’m still on my knees, praying that it’s the final outrage; this is not what taking a knee is supposed to mean. I have had enough, and won’t stop praying now; I’m just getting started.

Taking a knee used to only be a football term. The quarterback would take the ball and kneel, ending the play.

Taking a knee no longer ends the play. It has begun the play, and the clock is running. With God’s help, we will see its hands spin forward into a day filled with hope and peace. Taking the knee is now a word about justice. But first and foremost it must be a word about humility.

In Isaiah 61 God promises beauty for ashes, and we have more than enough ashes right now. But I’m not talking about burned buildings, wrong though those are. I’m talking about generations of burned lives.

Who is promised this beauty from ashes? Those who mourn. So, let us mourn together as brothers and sisters, and receive this beauty for ourselves. Isaiah goes on to say that those of us who do mourn will repair the waste cities and the desolations of many generations.

Let’s proclaim – together – that these generations of desolation have finally come to an end.

Let’s proclaim – together – that the day of freedom and justice begins now!

Let’s proclaim – together – that we will first look inside ourselves for these.

Let’s proclaim – together – that we will no longer be silent in the face of evil.

And let’s proclaim all this on our knees.

If you liked this essay, you may also like this poem.

Photo from Erik Mclean via Pexels

White Silence Drowns Out Black Voices

Yes, I’ve been silent far too long,
And for this I repent.
I’ve tolerated my own indifference,
Which fed my silence, and made it fat.

Silent about hate,
Silent about fear,
Silent about what you’ve been going through,
Even though I can’t possibly understand it,
Because I’ve never lived it.

The howling of my silence now deafens me,
Now that I am awake to it.
Yes, I’ve been silent far too long,
And for this I repent.

All that out of sight is out of mind
Living leads to laziness.
Of course life appears good when
No one complains.

In my silence I couldn’t hear your complaints
That were right in front of me.
I was deaf to your cry and blind to your pain,
And so could not help but be silent.

Yes, I’ve been silent far too long,
And for this I repent.
Yes, I’ve been indifferent far too long,
And for this I ask forgiveness.

If you forgive and take my hand
And lift me up from my knees
I promise to walk with you on the hard road,
The road to redemption.

I’ve been silent far too long,
And my silence kept me from traveling
The hard road to redemption,
That is best walked with a brother.

Yes, I’ve been silent far too long,
And for this I repent.
Yes, I’ve been indifferent far too long,
And for this I ask forgiveness.

Read more poetry here