An Essay by Sister Joan Brown in Global Sisters Report
That was a sad weekend. The words of George Floyd, “I can’t breathe,” rang in our ears. Another African American man murdered because of the sin of racism. The words of more than 100,000 people of the United States, “I can’t breathe,” also haunt our nights as we live through a coronavirus pandemic marked by the grim milestone of more than 100,000 deaths.
“I can’t breathe” began 2020 with images of vast fires in Australia killing 1 billion animals and sending people to ocean waters at beaches so they could breathe. The climate change fires of California in 2019 were still fresh in our sinuses as we entered the mystery of 2020.
“I can’t breathe” is felt by the thousands of immigrants detained for months and years after fleeing droughts and political violence in Central America, Africa and elsewhere. They join many who are stuck in the stale air of prisons without any chance of release or just treatment.
That sad weekend on May 31 was also Pentecost, in the Christian tradition when the “breath of the Spirit” moved through the community of disciples empowering them to good works, justice and life. Too many elements converge in this moment. No wonder we are haunted by “I can’t breathe.” The words strike at the very core of the meaning and future of a life of dignity, respect, and beauty.
Breath is the beginning and end of life for all humans, creatures and our beloved Earth, our common home. Read full article in Global Sisters Report