The Gospel of the Black Dog

I recently learned about “riot dogs”—dogs who’ve shown up in protests around the world to protect people from harm. One of the most well-known is a black dog from Chile named Negro Matapacos. During the student-led protests for education reform in Santiago (2011–2013), he became a fixture in the community—always showing up to protect protesters, red bandana around his neck, barking at riot police, and standing his ground against tear gas and water cannons.

Negro Matapacos stood with the people: loyal, brave, and fierce in his solidarity. That’s why he became a symbol of resistance, not because he fought, but because he refused to step away. He kept showing up. As vulnerable as he was, he put himself between the protesters and the police to offer protection.

In today’s Gospel,* Jesus is rejected by a Samaritan village, and James and John want to call down fire in response. But Jesus shuts it down. He doesn’t retaliate. He doesn’t even linger. He’s on his way to Jerusalem, toward the cross, and he chooses mercy over vengeance.

This moment marks a turning point in Luke’s Gospel. Jesus sets his face toward suffering, not power. And his resistance isn’t weakness—it’s a deliberate, nonviolent, and unshakable stance with the oppressed and the marginalized.

Then come the would-be followers. One says, “I’ll follow you anywhere,” and Jesus basically says, “Are you sure? Even when it’s uncomfortable? Even when you don’t get to say goodbye?” The call is urgent and real. Jesus doesn’t sugarcoat it. But he also never says it’s only for the perfect or the polished.

This call Jesus gives is for all of us: for the impulsive, the uncertain, and the grieving. For those still figuring it out. For those who feel like they don’t belong. For everyday people trying to follow Jesus the best we can. And for street dogs in red bandanas who show up, rally after rally, standing up to those in power and reminding the world that we’re called, every day, to show up in solidarity with the oppressed and marginalized.

Negro Matapacos didn’t follow a map. He followed people. He stayed close. He stood with the hurting. Maybe that’s all Jesus is asking of us too: to show up, stay close, choose mercy, and walk in solidarity.