4 Things Predominately White Churches Can Do to Fight Racism
I remember the first time I felt overwhelmed and ill equipped as a white church leader to talk about racism. It was August of 2005. I served as a youth minister at a church in Connecticut. On this particular Wednesday night, we had gathered for a high school guys bible study. A multi-ethnic group of 8-9 guys met, some white, some Black, and some Latino. As the conversation got going, all anyone wanted to talk about was Hurricane Katrina and its aftermath. I’ll never forget the conversation. My students of color saw things in the crisis and response that the white students didn’t see and vice versa. Quickly, a conversation about a hurricane became a conversation about race. They were good friends and handled it well, but I’ll never forget the feeling of “I wonder if I’m handling this the right way.” As a white church leader, I wasn’t sure how to lead in those moments.
Those moments have only become more common over the last 15 years. I still feel like I’m not the most equipped person to speak wisely on race, but I want to share what I’ve learned. Specifically, I’ve learned to avoid two extremes. On the one hand, some white church leaders don’t realize they “don’t know what they don’t know.” They assume they completely understand scenarios involving race, and they come off as out of touch, arrogant, or even part of the problem. On the other hand, some white church leaders become so overwhelmed that they just shrug their shoulders as if white people can’t say or do anything. This paralysis can also be part of the problem. As I learned the shortcomings of those two extremes, God led me to another way, a path of humble listening and committed action. For me, it’s played out in four ways.
1. Listen First: In James 1:19, the Bible tells us to be “quick to listen and slow to speak.” As a white male church leader, I’ve gone back to those words so many times the last decade. Our experience and social location shape our beliefs in so many ways. When I find myself in conversations over the continual effects of racism, I have to remind myself what I don’t know. I don’t know what it’s like to experience racism. Therefore, my first reaction must be to listen.
In Acts 6, we find a poignant story that illustrates this. The Jerusalem church was comprised of Hebraic Jews (ethnically, culturally, and religiously Jewish) and Hellenistic Jews (ethnically/culturally Greek but religiously Jewish). The Hellenistic Jews were the minority group, and we read that their widows were being ignored in the food distribution. When this understandable complaint reached the apostles (all Hebraic Jews), they listened. In response they appointed 7 men (all Hellenistic Jews) to rectify the situation so all widows would receive fair treatment. The solution began with listening.
We must listen. For me, mainly over the last 5 years, this has meant an intentional effort to read books by Black Christians authors and listen to podcasts of people of color. This past summer, our church read “The Color of Compromise” by Jemar Tisby and “Reconciliation Reconsidered” by Tanya Brice. Personally, I’ve followed the ministry of Jerry Taylor, Esau McCaulley, Justin Giboney, Christina Edmondson, Natasha Sistrunk Robinson, Latasha Morrison, and others. When hanging out with my Black friends, I don’t want to put pressure on them, so I try not to bombard them with questions. But I listen. I make it clear that I’m ready to listen to whatever they want to say.
2. Resist Being Defensive: Thinking back to the story in Acts 6, I’m struck by what the apostles did not do. They did not get defensive. They did not angrily respond with “are you calling me a racist?” They humbled themselves and listened. As I look back on my life, on a wide variety of topics, I’ve ended so many good conversations early by being defensive. It’s hard to hear that people you respect have done wrong. It’s hard to hear that your ancestors were complicit in evil. It’s hard for me to hear that I’ve sinned.
But Christians should be accustomed to the idea that we’re sinners. After all, it’s a core doctrine. In Romans 3:23, Paul tells us that “all have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God.” It’s not an abstract biblical truth, but a clear and present reality. In conversations on race, when I sense defensiveness growing within me, I just remind myself, “I’m a sinner.” I don’t have to agree with every single statement made in a hard conversation, but I do have to agree with this. I’m a sinner. We’re all sinners. The more I’ve spent time with that truth, the less defensive I’ve been. I shouldn’t be surprised when people point out my sin. It’s a core truth of the gospel, and it’s deserving of confession and repentance.
3. Make Space for Open Conversations: As I look back on my continued journey in understanding racism, conversations were a key part of the process. Gracious friends gave me space to think out loud and make mistakes. Those conversations were really challenging but essential to my growth. So this past summer, as our church read those books (Jemar Tisby and Tanya Brice) together, we hosted a Wednesday Zoom for conversation. I want to be honest. That was far from easy. In the middle of a pandemic, months into Zoom fatigue, we decided to talk about racism openly and honestly. At times, I wondered if it was the worst decision I’d ever made as a minister. Yet, I’m glad we did it. We completely agreed that racism is wrong and sinful, but as you might expect, people had varying views of the best ways to frame the conversation as well as how to navigate the path forward. These Zoom conversations led to many other conversations-on the phone and in the driveway.
I encourage other churches to make this space. We had a gifted moderator, read books by Christians of color, and had clear ground rules. Still, it was hard. But, it was worth it. We should love ourselves and our neighbors enough to have hard conversations. If the church can’t provide this space, well then, I’m not sure what we’re really doing.
4. Make a Long-Term Commitment to Action: As a church leader, I face a regular temptation. After a series of teaching on a certain topic, I’m tempted by a “well we did this, let’s move on to something else.” I once heard a Black speaker joke at a February event, “I’m booked up every January and February, but I’m free the other 10 months if you want to have me back.” The audience laughed nervously, but I think we all got the message. When it comes to racism, we can’t assume that since we did a study or preached a sermon that we can just move on. We must make a long-term commitment. Until Jesus returns, sin will exist, and we’ll need to fight it. Every generation of the church will have some type of prejudice to overcome. In Jesus’ day, he tried to bring reconciliation to Jews and Samaritans. In Paul’s day, he tried to bring reconciliation to Jews and Gentiles. For the church, confessing sin and pursuing justice must remain essential ongoing efforts.
About 15 years ago, before I even started at my current church, our congregation began doing more with a predominately Black church in our neighborhood. It started out slowly as we both supported the same missionary team. It led to some joint worship services to hear those missionaries report. They invited us to a cookout, which became a yearly event. The annual combined service started happening twice a year. Some of us starting have lunch together. We started attending each other’s events, as well as helping in each other’s ministries. Two years ago, we met for a prayer service on the anniversary of the death of Dr. King. Our relationship has been slow, and they’ve been incredibly gracious. We don’t know where it will all lead, but we know our lives and churches are healthier together than apart. The leaders of both churches made a long-term commitment. We didn’t just call them after a high-profile racist incident to see if they could come speak on racism. But because we’ve been in relationship for over a decade now, we were able to have a Zoom prayer service this summer to pray about the sin of racism without it seeming forced or contrived. In personal relationships with these brothers and sisters, I’ve heard things I needed to hear-truths that have shaped me.
A long-term commitment keeps the sin of racism ever before us, just like the other great sins of our time. It’s caused our church to ask some important questions about our congregational life and ministry. How often does racial justice come up in our preaching and teaching? When we teach on the Bible, do we gloss over the prejudice involved in stories such as the Good Samaritan? Do we only support white led ministries, or do we engage in ministries led by people of color? When we participate in ministries to the homeless and incarcerated, do we take the time to educate ourselves on the racial components of those situations? The continual pursuit of these questions leads to action.
It’s been 15 years since I listened to that multi-ethnic group of teen boys discuss Hurricane Katrina. I still feel overwhelmed and ill equipped at times. I don’t consider myself a leader or an example on this broken reality. But I’ve discovered the Spirit exceeds my expectations when I listen, resist defensiveness, embrace conversation, and make a long-term commitment. On that Wednesday night years ago, those boys didn’t agree on every single thing. But they listened to each other. They loved each other well. And at the end of our gathering, they prayed together, for they’d committed to God and each other. In doing so, they taught me a lot. When the church does this, we’re at our best.
