Come, Gladdening Light

Every now and then I get inspired to write a song. I've entitled this one Come, Gladdening Light and it is about grief, loss, and hope. It's a rough cut–just me and my guitar. It has a folk vibe to it. My tempo is a bit all over the place, but I thought I'd share it with you anyway and hope you enjoy it. Here's the link to the song with lyrics in the description: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=gQppu2ykVfE&feature=youtu.be 

Thoughts for White Christians

We’re in a complex, chaotic, and charged moment in the life of America right now. It’s like a painful, tangled-up knot of many different strands. No one person has created this pain. It comes from things bigger than all of us. It comes from our collective past as a nation. It comes from our individual stories and experiences. It comes from the messages and actions of representatives of different groups. It comes from multiple issues colliding into each other, sometimes explicitly, sometimes under the surface.

So how are you doing? A lot of people are hurting right now. I’ve had to work through some emotions, and I think we’re all continuing to do so. I’ve been praying and journaling. Some of my initial thoughts were immature and unhelpful, but doing so has helped me wrestle with myself and with our moment. How are you processing your pain? I think we can all show each other some grace while also pursuing what we believe is right.

I want to share how I’ve been thinking through some of those strands and intersections that have had a pull on my heart. I'm speaking primarily to white Christians, mainly because that's my experience and these are the people I'm around the most. In doing this, by no means am I intending to make white experience the center of our present moment. As most minority folks know, we've had a bad habit of doing that for centuries. Still, there are things we white Christians need to grapple with. I've been thinking that we could use a lot of discipleship on the intersections of faith and ethnicity, faith and politics, and faith and conflict.

Faith and Ethnicity

As a white Christian pastor who has been in predominately white congregations and spaces for most of my life, bringing up the intersection of faith and ethnicity is often uncomfortable to us white folks. It can bring up painful past and present issues, and it usually puts us on the defensive. So… often we don’t talk about racism and hope that things will magically get better, or we always talk about it in terms of the past. If we preach on Christ reconciling Jews and Gentiles to each other through the cross in Ephesians 2:11-22, or God not showing favoritism along ethnic lines as per Romans 2:9-11, or Jesus engaging with Samaritans and Gentiles in the Gospels, it’s easy for us to apply those principles to the past and on an individual level. “Yeah, slavery was bad. Yeah, Jim Crow was bad. Aren’t we glad that isn’t happening now?” We talk of racism as something that got solved with the Civil Rights movement, and if people claim racist things are still happening today, we might accept it on an individual level, but be very resistant of talking about it in systemic terms. “Sure, Billy Bob might be racist, but our laws and country are fair now.” Unfortunately, this ignores or minimizes the experiences of many of our minority brothers and sisters. Hearing them talk about mistreatment and systemic sin can lead us to silence, or worse, to start casting stones at other ethnicities in an attempt to deny or deflect away from our faults. It’s a way of saying, “Oh yeah? Well you have problems too! What about X…” While we’ve done it for a long time, ignoring and lashing out isn’t going to help anyone going forward. This is not to say we white people have not brought gifts to the world and have strengths. It’s rather a way of saying that like every person and every group, we’re a mixed bag, and we need to own our faults.

White folks have been the majority of the U.S. population, and with that comes privilege and power. We have a troubled history when it comes to slavery, Native American genocide, Jim Crow, and a justice system that has had more teeth against minority people than whites (read Michelle Alexander’s The New Jim Crow). There are lingering effects from these sins when it comes to inherited wealth, social capital, and opportunities. Whether we know it or not, these things shape our lives and they also shape how other ethnicities experience us. This is not to say white pain, white people struggling with poverty, and our individual choices don't matter. It's simply an acknowledgement that the past shapes the present, and that shaping is beneficial for white people and detrimental to minority people.

To be honest, even if we acknowledge the sin of the past and privilege in the present, we white folks haven’t really had to care much about other ethnic communities. For a long time, we've been able to get along well enough in life without them. We've had most of the power and could spend most of our time in white enclaves. This is going to become less and less the case in our country’s future. If trends continue, demographic research is showing whites will no longer be the ethnic majority in America in about three decades. I think part of what’s going on in our present moment is our country is starting to feel some of these demographic changes as minority people gain more voice. We’re also seeing differences among generations in how to understand and talk about ethnicity. The article I linked to above claims that as of this year, white people comprise less than half of the population age 30 and under, and so younger white people are having more opportunity to connect to people and concerns beyond their immediate ethnic group. Younger generations also haven't had to experience as much change as those who lived through the Civil Rights movement, who already have had to devote mental and emotional energy toward change. According to survey research from Barna (see the free ebook below), Gen X and millennials are much more likely to acknowledge how racism in the past affects our present, and express a desire for the church to take steps toward fairness and reconciliation. When it comes to navigating church, culture, and politics in the future, white folks are increasingly going to have to develop intercultural competence. To fail to do so is to hamstring ourselves when it comes to friendships, evangelism, how we do church, business, and political coalitions.

How can we own our faults without hating ourselves or lashing out? How can we be better at listening to and loving our neighbors who don’t look like us instead of ignoring them and pretending they aren’t a part of us when they’re in pain? As Paul says in 1 Corinthians 12:26, “If one part [of the body of Christ] suffers, every part suffers with it; if one part is honored, every part rejoices with it.” How can we build a fairer church and world together?

Several people have been recommending books to educate ourselves on this topic. I think that’s a good step. The more we can listen to different voices and research, the better. My hope is we become better informed and compassionate without being crippled by anxiety and feeling like we have to walk on eggshells when it comes to ethnic difference. Sometimes we can become so wrapped up in the potential for causing slights and pain that we feel it’s better to avoid reaching out across lines of difference altogether. Remember: We’re all made in the image of God, and the humanity we share is more fundamental to our identity than ethnic and cultural differences. We’re all more alike than we are different. For those who follow Jesus, the Spirit we share is more foundational to our identity than any other identity marker, and Jesus unites people you wouldn't expect to see together in other circumstances. My hope is for us to be informed and sensitive, but not lose heart for reaching out in love when it’s hard and there's the potential for rejection. 

Of course, the primary book I'd recommend reflecting on is the Bible. You might be surprised, but it's chock full of inter-ethnic issues and principles that can help us move forward. I'm grateful that my seminary is hosting several conversations on race, and the first one was very good on showcasing the biblical and theological tools we have for moments like these (though we haven't always lived into them well historically.) You can check it out here.

Barna group is giving away a free e-book on race relations, with some survey data and thoughts from diverse Christian leaders on how to move forward here.

I’m pasting books, some of which I've read, some of which come recommended by others, if you’d like to read further: 

• Just Mercy by Bryan Stevenson (this has been turned into a movie that is streaming for free on Amazon Prime during the month of June if you’d like to watch)
• Rethinking Incarceration: Advocating for Justice That Restores by Dominique Gilliard 
• Letter from a Birmingham Jail by MLK Jr.
• Locked In: The True Causes of Mass Incarceration and How to Achieve Reform by John Pfaff
• Welcoming Justice: God’s Movement Toward Beloved Community by Charles Marsh and John M. Perkins
• I'm Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness by Austin Channing Brown
• The Speeches of Fannie Lou Hamer: Telling it Like it Is by Maegan Parker Brooks and Davis W. Houck 
• Let Justice Roll Down by John M. Perkins

Faith and Politics

Our present moment has also revealed that Christians in America have very different approaches to politics. Once again, speaking from my context in primarily white churches in the South, I have often heard the phrase we should not “preach politics,” or overly meddle in political affairs. There is a sense in which this advice can be both helpful and unhelpful. 

Helpful–Not preaching politics can be helpful (1) because pastors and churches can idolize politics. We can become so wrapped up in political movements that we neglect things like evangelism, spiritual formation, and more. I’d be wary of a church that always harps on the latest in politics and calls for certain votes and political actions but doesn’t call people to faith in Christ and to grow in grace and prayer. (2) Politics can be divisive, so avoiding the subject can preserve a form of unity in the church. Usually when you preach in a way that addresses modern political issues, you can expect some pushback unless you’re preaching to the choir of a mostly mono-political church. (3) Not preaching politics is understandable because no current political party represents the full set of values present in the Bible. There are values that conservatives champion–ending abortion, strengthening families, protecting religious liberty, fiscal responsibility, creating jobs, and the importance of personal responsibility–and values that liberals champion–helping refugees/migrants, reducing gun violence, fairness when it comes to ethnicity and gender, providing for the poor, caring for the environment, and addressing systemic sin. When I read my Bible, I find all of these values. It can be easy to advocate for a chopped-up set of values that are handed to us from the Democrat or Republican platforms instead of letting biblical faith take center stage. Lately, I've really liked the analysis of The And Campaign and their Church Politics podcast in their efforts to transcend partisanship and evaluate current political issues from a biblical worldview. I understand that different Christians are going to choose to prioritize different value sets and politicians over others. We all have to make that choice. I also know the practice of politics is going to be imperfect. I don’t hold out high hopes for a political party embracing a fully-orbed set of Christian values. The church is called to serve of Christ as Lord, not necessarily the nation. But what I don’t understand is wholehearted devotion to certain politicians or party platforms like they are God’s gift to the world. That is idolatry and letting a party platform take center stage instead of God's desires. Such idolatries cause pain, confusion, and roadblocks to evangelism. We cause pain when we show up for some causes based around biblical values but not others, which is what I hear many of my black and brown brothers and sisters saying about white Christians right now. There's a lot of passion about being pro-life when it comes to abortion, but not much pro-life passion when it comes to black people being killed for no reason. Wading into the fray is hard, and there can be pressure to align totally with a party platform. Christianity doesn't fit neatly into party platforms.

Unhelpful–Yet not preaching politics is unhelpful (1) because it gives a divorced picture of Christian faith, that Christianity is all about a spiritual world, but it isn't concerned about the concrete realities that shape our lives. It's all about "saving souls," so we have nothing much to say about migrants, nothing to say about abortion, nothing to say about racial inequities, nothing to say about creating jobs and thriving economies. We don't reflect on the civil disobedience and political implications of some of God's servants in Exodus, Daniel, and Acts and how that might be relevant to us. We don't reflect on God using a political leader to save her people: Esther. We have nothing to say on policies and practices that trap people in poverty like Amos and James did. "Spiritual Christianity" has a lot to say about evangelism, formation, and prayer, but lets someone else’s rules take center stage when it comes to political issues instead of thinking about how Jesus might want us to approach these issues. The Lordship of Jesus isn’t just over our souls or over the spiritual realm–Jesus is Lord over all existence. He has come to reconcile all things to himself, things on heaven and things on earth (Col. 1:19-20). A famous quote from Abraham Kuyper gets at this: “There is not a square inch in the whole domain of our human existence over which Christ, who is Sovereign over all, does not cry, ‘Mine!’” The church has a distinct witness about what God desires that can be a boon to society when thoughtfully applied. (2) “Not preaching politics” is also unhelpful in that it’s impossible. Deciding not to talk about politics is still a political philosophy that has political ramifications in our churches and communities. There is no neutral position. (3) Not preaching politics often subtly aligns with the status quo. We don’t need to preach politics because what “is” is alright with us. It’s interesting I've heard this maxim in white churches, but not in other ethnic churches. Unfortunately, when you look at history, similar language was used in Southern white churches around the issues of slavery around the time of the Civil War and segregation during the Civil Rights Movement. Might we not want to preach politics because the status quo benefits us white folks, and to lift it up means to point us toward change? Meanwhile, the concerns and pain of minority people go unheard from the pulpit, and they wonder if they could ever fully be themselves in majority white congregations. 

I don’t want to paint the picture that if we’d all just agree on politics, revival would break out, tons of people would surrender their lives to Christ, and we'd finally get rid of all sin in the world. No. Neither do I want to pretend that I have all the answers. I’m a pastor, not a politician. I am open to the charge of being out of my depth in political thought, and I don't get everything right. Still, we lose a potential area of discipleship and doing good if we neglect focusing on how following Jesus should inform our political life. Instead of “Don’t preach politics,” I’d say “Sometimes preach politics.” It’s risky, but biblically grounded, informed, humble, and kind messages around political issues can be an uncomfortable blessing to our people, our communities, and our world.

Faith and Conflict

The first two points play into this final point. Since we don’t do well concerning ethnicity and politics, many of us think it’s fine not to act like a Christian when it comes to conflicts that touch these areas. We lose sight of the fruit of the Holy Spirit and love of neighbor. We avoid honest conversation. We tell one-sided stories. We avoid thinking that we might be wrong or have incomplete information. We avoid listening to our neighbor. We assume someone who is different from us ideologically is an idiotic scumbag. We don’t lose or win graciously. We try to control others instead of relying on persuasion. We carry bitterness in our hearts. And we don't always think or argue well when it comes to moments like these and when we're hurting.

I’ve witnessed a lot of overly simplistic statements and actions the past few weeks on all sides. The composition fallacy is a logical fallacy that assumes one part of something automatically represents the whole. “All police are evil.” “All protestors are idiots.” “White people are evil.” “Black people just tear stuff up when they get upset.” Just because we see instances where some people are acting in these ways doesn’t mean that the whole is like that. That’s not to say we can’t acknowledge systemic unfairness in how law enforcement have engaged with people of color, or stand against looting, rioting, and retaliatory violence. All or nothing statements based on composition fallacies don’t capture reality or help. I’ve also seen people employ false dichotomies, false either/or choices. "To support the African American community, you must be against the police, support disbanding police departments, and not care about the emotional heaviness and hardships many in law enforcement deal with." Or, "To support the police, you must critique the African American community, not empathize over the damage undeserved deaths of black and brown people are causing communities of color, and you must oppose all protestors." You don't have to be locked into these false dichotomies to support the African American community or law enforcement when it's done well. Further, I’ve seen several guilt-by-association techniques that try to push people into boxes: if you support Black Lives Matter, then you must automatically support everything about a very progressive platform (are you one of those pro-choice, anti-economy liberals?), or if you criticize rioting, you are supporting everything about a very conservative platform (are you fine with police brutality and throwing your lot in with white supremacists?).  

Don’t fall prey to sloppy rhetoric. Respect and good argumentation still matter, especially when dealing with painful and complex issues, and even more so for followers of Jesus, who are to embody the grace and truth of Christ. Bridge-burning statements may feel good in the moment, but they limit how many opportunities we get for coming to the table, for diverse friendships, for persuasion and for learning. We may not always be able to choose when or how those moments come to us. They can come around the dinner table, in the locker room, in the board room, in the church office, in the classroom, or on the street corner. But if we follow the way of Christ, those moments will come. Do we want them, or would we rather spend our days signaling how awesomely right we are on social media and push people away? 

We are in a messy moment. We can't flip a switch and fix racism. It took a long time for us to get where we are, and it will take time to move toward a fairer world. There are many things that are outside of our control. To be honest, racism is a global problem, and I don't think sins like it will be fully eradicated in the world until Jesus comes back, but that doesn't mean there's nothing we can do or that we should be defeatist. We can all do our part where we have influence. Prayer is crucial when we face things outside of our control. I'm reminded of Jesus' teaching on prayer in Mark 11:22-25, that if we pray in faith, God can uproot mountains and throw them into the sea. Let's pray that God would uproot the mountains of racism, anger, ignorance, apathy, and inequity out of all of us, out of the church, and out of the nation. If Jesus can rise from the dead, he can do this. 

Specifically to my fellow white Christians, I'd ask us to consider further reading on how ethnicity has shaped and continues to shape our world, to let Scripture ground our values rather than a political party, to show up for brothers and sisters of color regardless of if it looks "liberal" or "conservative," and to continue to have a humble posture of listening, love, and prayerful action. I know I've talked a lot in terms of politics, but I was reminded by a good Baptist brother who read a draft of this that this is an opportunity for sanctification, for becoming more like Jesus. He's right. And I want to try to do better. I hope you'll join me. Prayer, education, friendships, and wise politics will all be part of working toward a better world. 

Don’t lose sight of the positives. We’ve seen peaceful protests and prayer meetings break out across the nation. The vast majority of law enforcement have acted well and helped protect against looting and rioting. Several ideas (though maybe not all) are moving forward for better practices and accountability in policing that can benefit both minority communities and police departments. We’re seeing statues and symbols of white supremacy that have been unsettling to many start to come down from places of honor and power. We’re being called for more honest conversation about how race shapes our lives, our churches, and our country, and how we might move toward a better harmony together. For these things, I praise God. I pray the deaths of Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd, and the many who have died before will not be in vain. I pray for our law enforcement, the vast majority of whom are doing things right, who face situations of incredible stress and danger that hardly any other job has to face, and for those who have been killed or shot during riots and looting. I hope and pray that moving forward we will be more committed to love and friendship across lines of difference than ever before, even if it’s hard. I pray that Jesus would give us eyes to see, ears to hear, and hearts that are full of love to be agents of reconciliation and justice. And whether America pulls back together or falls further apart, my ultimate hope is in Jesus, who is Lord over all, who died and rose to rescue us from our sins, who calls us to repent and confess our sins in order to be free, who always gives us hope, and who is with us even now.

Thanks for reading. I love you all.