'You've been stabbed? Don't think you 'ave, mate.'

Those words, spoken by a police officer to a dying university student as he mistakenly cuffed and arrested the young man, just a few hundred yards along the road from my own home, are currently echoing around the nation on every kind of news site, chat forum and social media platform. Over the past few days, and particularly since the bodycam footage of the arresting officer was released earlier today, politicians have been taking the opportunity of the nation's shock to hurl accusations and counter-accusations at one another.

Even as I write, a hundreds-strong crowd, led by a high-profile activist and a political leader and keenly monitored by a police helicopter hovering overhead, is marching in protest from Southampton Police Station to the local police station situated almost adjacent to the site of the arrest. Bottles, bricks and stones are being thrown at police. Even bins have been commandeered as flaming weapons. Riot police are out in full force. Portswood Sainsbury's shut early, no doubt on the advice of police.

The crowd has been chanting the words which were repeated nine times by Henry Nowak as he faded away, but which were also clearly reminiscent of a notorious law-enforcement incident twelve years ago on another continent: 'I can't breathe'.

On every side, it seems, an enemy is being sought, found and tagged for destruction. Targets are being placed on backs and arrows have started flying. Already a man lies in prison, having been convicted of murder and awarded a life-sentence. But this proved insufficient to quell the outrage. More enemies are needed.

For some, it is the arresting officer. It wasn't long before a name and picture were widely published online, so that a tragic and degrading mistake now came with a face (which may or may not have been the correct one). And more than that, it metamorphosised into something much bigger than a mistake: complicity in murder. The IOPC investigation will no doubt consider whether the darkness of the night, the camouflaging of Henry's top, the clearly unanimous opinion of all present about Henry's guilt, and the apparently common phenomenon of guilty parties claiming to be injured to avoid restraint, together constituted suitable mitigation for the officers' failure to assess the situation correctly. One thing at least appears clear from the trial: despite the conclusions so quickly jumped to by so many keyboard warriors, the officer's mistake did not contribute to the loss of life.

For others, it is the culture of policing in the country. The phrase 'two-tier policing' has been bandied about for some time now. But it is rare – in this country at least – to come across a situation with quite so much potential to aggravate the concerns held by many that, in the wake of the BLM protests of more than a decade ago, there has indeed appeared an identifiable culture of anti-white discrimination in police training and practice.

For others still, it is the legal framework, and of course those politicians who are responsible for allowing it to be perpetuated. How can it possibly be right that an exception is made to the law forbidding individuals to carry knives, purely on the basis of the conventions of a religious group? Especially when, over recent years, we appear to be in the grip of an epidemic of knife-crime in various urban settings in the UK.

For yet others, it is the family who looked on and failed to intervene. It is unclear who knew or suspected the reality of what had happened, and – at least as importantly – at what stage. And therefore how much complicity is born by different members of the family in attempting to pervert justice and failing to aid the injured party. But of course for many, the family appears as a unit and therefore is fair game for being identified as the problem.

And yes, of course, for others, the enemy is either those who are of a different colour or ethnicity, or perhaps the level of immigration in general and its effect on society – the latter perhaps being for some (though certainly not for others) camouflage for the former.

Passions are high and political opportunism is instinctive. The events of 3 December 2025 were truly awful and outrage is inevitable.

And surely it is right that such outrage should be heard.

Right through the Bible, we see one particular phrase repeated over and over again: 'How long, O Lord?' It comes around 54 times, depending on the English translation. And it expresses all sorts of emotions: frustration, fear, impatience, confusion, anxiety are just a few of them.

But sometimes, the primary emotion appears to be just this: outrage. And it's tied to a thirst for answers to at least two questions: first, 'Why is God allowing this?' and second 'Will justice ever be done?'

Look at Psalm 74:9-11.

How long will the enemy mock you, God?

    Will the foe revile your name forever?

Why do you hold back your hand, your right hand?

    Take it from the folds of your garment and destroy them!

The psalmist is clearly outraged that (a) terrible deeds have been committed (specifically in context the reference is to the desecration of the Jerusalem temple) and that (b) God does not appear to be dealing with them. The tone is somewhere between pleading and defiant. 'Come on, God! Pull your finger out! Do your thing!'

But of course, as the psalmist knows, living in this world requires patience. There is an answer to the questions he asks. God will certainly not be mocked forever; there is a time limit to his self-restraint. But the timeframe may not accord with our own preferences.

God's people are somewhat used to that reality. The psalmist goes on to express his confidence in the very next verse:

But God is my King from long ago;

    he brings salvation on the earth.

Christians share that conviction. The conviction that God sits on his throne and rescues those in need, as well as – implicitly – directing justice towards those whose actions have contributed to that need for rescue.

But for those around us, those perhaps less familiar with the Bible's timescales, anytime other than 'now' appears to be 'never'. And so the search for an enemy to be dealt with is urgent. So urgent, potentially, as to justify skipping over details and nuance and unknowns and – well – facts. And finding a target towards which fury can be directed right now. It must be today, because 'tomorrow' feels like 'never' to a sense of proper outrage which is not paired with a conviction of confident hope.

As the people of Jesus, we can do better. We have in Jesus the pattern for doing better, as well as, in the Spirit, the power to do better. Self-restraint, as an alternative to self-expression, so often seems the path of weakness. But of course in reality it is the path of strength. We know that it is so because it was the path taken by Jesus himself.

Time and effort will reveal truth in this whole affair – or at least a measure of it. And so the call to God's people remains the same as always: it is the call to a hope-fuelled patience which tempers and channels instinctive outrage, looks to God's agents of justice on earth and ultimately trusts God to deliver justice.

Blessings to you,

Orlando