By Ulysses Burley III
Embodiment.
Dictionary.com defines embodiment as “a tangible or visible form of an idea, quality, or feeling.” As Christians, we often associate the word ’embodiment’ with that of Jesus Christ, who came down as God incarnate, or a resurrected Savior who remained present in the flesh — still with the wounds of crucifixion — before ascending to Heaven, as evidence of God’s presence in the embodiment of Jesus Christ.
Embodiment.
That word carries so much weight right now. This is especially true for black people as we have to contend with our black bodies constantly being brutalized and put on trial for the world to see. Today, as we recognize the one-year anniversary of the killing of George Floyd by Derek Chauvin, I am reflecting on last month’s trial where Chauvin was found guilty of 2nd and 3rd-degree murder, and I can’t help but think of one witness testimony in particular. That of Donald Williams.
Donald Williams is someone with a great command over his body. He was trained in mixed martial arts and had experience in security and managing crowds of unruly bodies. That day exactly one year ago, Donald was there, pleading with then Officer Chauvin to get his knee off of George Floyd’s neck, sometimes hurling profanity-laced expletives at the officer because the moment demanded it. A Black man’s life was at stake.
Because George Floyd’s murder was captured on video for the whole world to witness, Derek Chauvin’s defense team’s only play was to redirect blame on all the witnesses, many of whom were Black like Donald Williams. The defense tried to paint this picture that an angry mob of black people yelling at Officer Chauvin while he was trying to detain Floyd distracted him, causing him to lose sight that he was suffocating the man. So the defense kept asking Donald Williams to confirm what he said that day, to stereotype him as an angry black man who was escalating the situation, causing Chauvin to lose focus on the man pinned under his knee.
Society so often tries to label our entire culture as ‘angry,’ but as author and trauma specialist Resmaa Manekem said, “Trauma in a person, decontextualized over time, looks like personality. Trauma in a family, decontextualized over time, looks like family traits. Trauma in a people, decontextualized over time, looks like culture.” If we appear angry, it’s because we’ve had to endure so much trauma to our black bodies, and this time is not different.
Mr. Williams didn’t allow the defense to single out his anger apart from the context of Black trauma. When the defense attorney asked Donald, “It’s fair to say you grew angrier and angrier?” Donald responded, “I grew professional and more professional. I stayed in my body.” “You can’t paint me out to be angry,” he said.
Donald stayed in his body.
Have you ever had an “out-of-body experience” or a time when you stepped outside of yourself? Think back to those moments. It likely wasn’t a positive experience. You were probably acting out of character, where you lost your composure because of your reaction to an adverse event. If there was any time when it was appropriate for Donald Williams to step outside of his body, it was while witnessing the murder of George Floyd. Instead, he kept his composure. He said he stayed in his body because he understood that it was the very essence of his embodiment keeping him alive, so he could try and keep George Floyd alive. Because when black men have out-of-body experiences, we get killed by police.
We get strangled to death, whether by a rope or an illegal headlock or the total weight of one officer’s body on our necks. We die of asphyxiation the same way Jesus died of asphyxiation on the cross. We can’t breathe. But Jesus says that we can. Jesus’ resurrection tells me that death doesn’t have to have the last word, that these bones can live. But even more than that, Jesus’ embodiment tells me that they must live. Otherwise, God would not have sent His son down to take the form of a brown human body. Likewise, Jesus would have died and ascended to Heaven right away instead of choosing to stay in His brutalized body just a little while longer as evidence that our flesh is not resigned to weakness alone as is so often communicated, but that there is power in our black bodies. If there wasn’t, the system would not expend so much energy suppressing and oppressing ours.
George Floyd’s life mattered, but because his soul inhabited a Black body, we remember him today for how he died, rather than how he was trying to live. I’m tired of being forced to love our people in death only. Jesus loved us so much that He died for us so that we might experience His love in life. Racism is so woven into the very fabric of law enforcement in this country that I don’t know if police will ever submit to the radical love that Jesus has for black bodies. But I do know this; we can’t afford to wait on that system of oppression to come around before we lean into radically loving ourselves.
Today and every day, let us work toward a society that celebrates Black lives that matter before we become hashtags. Let us be reminded by Donald Williams’ witness to protect Black life at all costs, even if it means staying in our bodies when the moment transcends respectability. And let us be a witness not just to all the death and destruction around us, but to the power God granted us in an embodied Christ. RIP George Floyd. Let us pray:
“Embodied God,
On the door of trauma, you remind us it is glory to be in our bodies. We thank you that when you ask us to remember you, you as like to eat, to drink — that we would remember you in our bodies. Help us to be patient and gentle with those times we feel we have to leave our bodies to survive. And then would you guide us back to an embodied existence, that we might find healing in remaining whole. Heavenly Father, we journey through the story of George Floyd’s murder as you journeyed toward suffering on the cross. Keep us from separating these memories. That as we remember the injustice of your death, we would remember the injustice of his. That you are a God of solidarity. And let us be those capable of uttering the same holy words of witness from Donald Williams: “I stayed in my body.” And may it be so…” — Cole Arthur Riley, Black Liturgies
