The Prime Minister has called for a period of reflection in the wake of the tragic and avoidable death of Jason Arday. These past days have been filled with reflection – on the culture of British academia, on culture and standards in our media, on race and truthfulness… Some of this ‘reflection’ has been helpful, some opportunistic and shallow – some blatantly harmful.
As a Christian leader and a person of colour, I feel compelled to respond. Still, I find myself asking what may be said most faithfully, compassionately, and helpfully at this time.
For me – and for many – the circumstances of Jason’s final weeks and his death have understandably prompted despair, sadness, shock and fear. I fear for all those for whom the world feels a little more unsafe and uncaring, for those struggling with oppression, with prejudice or mental health. I fear for young people who have witnessed the cruelty to which Jason was subjected – and who may now no longer dare to hope or dream of what they may be able to achieve. I fear for a culture and a Britain that is lowering its standards – not of academic rigour but of basic human decency.
It is important to recognise and name our fears. But we cannot – we must not – allow fear to rule us.
As Christians, when we feel lost and bewildered, the only thing to do is to look again to Christ, to seek his peace and his guidance. As St John reminds us, perfect love casts out fear – and we find perfect love in the person of Christ our saviour.
When we turn to Christ, we inevitably notice how he treats people and who it is that he prioritises – those who are maligned, those who are overlooked, those who have failed, those who are treated as ‘nothing’ by the rest of the world. The God we follow is the God who sees us for all that we are – and who loves us powerfully and wholeheartedly in the face of those truths. When we turn to Christ we receive our calling afresh, as compassion, care and mercy come into focus.
And in that turning, may we also find hope: not a shallow optimism that ignores pain, but the deep Christian hope that insists death, fear, cruelty and injustice do not have the final word. Hope is what enables us to keep loving when love is costly, to keep speaking truth when truth is contested, to rise when others would have us brought low, and to keep building communities where every person is seen, honoured and cherished as made in the image of God.
So may we continue to reflect – to name our fears but not allow them to rule us or determine our futures.
May we give thanks for Jason and for all that was good in his work and his legacy. May we continue to pray for his family and friends, for those he mentored and inspired.
May we turn again and again to Christ when we feel lost – and doggedly pursue our calling to seek and to show Christ’s compassion for ourselves and for one another.