Recently, I penned a post, Some Questions I’m Asking While Off to my White Evangelical Church that drew a bit of attention. To be honest, it was a post that had been stewing for several weeks and one in which I reasoned I did not have the courage to write. The reason is quite simple: by doing so I knew I would lose something, an affiliation with those who deem race dialogue to be of utmost importance. I’ve been working on a follow up with a focus on the issue of social justice though it’s been slow going. I hope to parse out some issues that I think are getting conflated with a gospel centered response of the church’s relationship to the world. Hopefully, I will get to that.
It occurs to me there are there are two kinds of people who positively reacted to that post. One group really does not want to face any kinds of infractions and easily dismisses those who would raise any issues. These are folks that don’t want any discussion of racial issues or take any opportunity to examine where in fact there still might be discrepancies. On the other hand, and where I hope these questions resonated, concerned people like myself, who are deeply cognizant of historical infractions and want to, at a minimum, bring awareness to how racial prejudices have had a long standing impact. But they also don’t want to lose sight of what it means to be united in Christ and keep our union and identity in Christ as the overarching priority. Like, me they having growing concerns that this priority is getting lost.
If you’ve known me personally, or followed me on Facebook or Twitter for any length of time, you’d know that I have been squarely on the side of this second group. I have tried to provoke an honest examination racism, racial bias, white privilege and yes, even white supremacy.
To this end, I’ve had some intense on-line interactions with those I have at least perceived to be in the first group. I’m finding something really interesting happens when that perception is present. When you are on the bandwagon to show how these issues still prevail, it doesn’t take much for that agenda to take on a life of its own. I was reminded the other day of an interaction I had a couple of years ago on the topic of white privilege. A white sister tried to assert how her mother experienced extreme poverty and that the idea of white privilege does not account for white people who have suffered. Aside from the fact that this sorely misunderstands what is meant by privilege in that it’s not contingent upon economic circumstances, the reality is I really didn’t care to hear it. I was only interested in showing how black people have suffered under the hands of white people because of what society deems as acceptable. But it also made me reflect on other such conversations I’ve had where the overarching agenda is to prove how subjugated black people have been. Continue reading
I’ve been pecking away little by little on a follow up to my last post, Some Questions I’m Asking While Off to My White Evangelical Church. It occurred to me that there are some more questions I’ve been chewing on but didn’t get out in that post. But I also wanted to parse out the concerns I raise from real interest and needs with respect to Christian engagement with issues of social justice, for what it’s worth. My goal with all these questions is not to criticize for the sake of criticism and it’s certainly not to dismiss legitimate concerns. I wish to honestly evaluate if how we are going about the task of racial reconciliation is counterproductive to the cause of Christ’s kingdom.
In the meantime, Darrell Harrison over at Just Me Thinking wrote this fairly piercing piece, How Woke Theology is Hurting the Black Church. The heart of his concern is that present day social justice movement efforts are subordinating, if not undermining, the root of a Christian response to the ills of this world–that is, the need for redemption and forgiveness of sins through Christ. Highlighting the work and influence of James Cone, a noted Liberation theologian who Harrison believes is captivating the mood of the current discourse, Harrison writes;
The problem with “woke theology” is it emphasizes a teleology of Christianity that is one-dimensional. It does this by reducing Christianity to what Cone described as “worldly theology”. In other words, a theology whose primary raison d’etre has less to do with the spiritual redemption of a sinful people, that is, the world entire, and more with the corporeal redemption of a particular ethnic people, to whom salvation is viewed in terms of, as Cone stated, “the affirmation of black community that emancipates black people from white racism.”
A recurring thought in the black theology of James Cone is Jesus as the divine “liberator” of black people from the scourge of white oppression. It is a view which, in my mind, begs the question: why does Cone see the God of Christianity – Jesus Christ – as this great liberator and not Allah? Or the Hindu triumvirate of Brahma, Vishnu, and Shiva? Or the Buddha? Or any other religious deity? The answer is simple, really. It is because only the gospel of Christ deals with that which gives rise to oppression to begin with – our sin.
I’ve observed that a common retort to present day social justice efforts is describing it’s adherents as embracing a social gospel and liberation theology, not holding to biblical theology or maybe not even real Christians. In other words, it’s easy to reject efforts as simply being a social gospel. To some extent, this can be true. But this low hanging fruit can become a much too easy way of dismissing sincere Christians who are looking to live out the gospel in their lives. Here is where I would caution haste assessments of what’s actually going on with the present day movement and those who espouse it, less we unjustly accuse brothers and sisters of Christ of being heretics. Continue reading
Yes, you heard that right, my white church. Why not just the church? In fact, I bet the title alone will set up some keen anticipation for me to address everything that’s wrong with the white church and how it’s whiteness is harming people of color, how silent the white church is on issues of social justice and generally are wielding it’s power of white supremacy against the health of the church. Sure, there will be some that will roll their eyes, shake their heads and wonder why people keep being divisive with race labels and such. But I’ll get to you later.
Because of this anticipation and it’s increasing prominence in our present day discourse, I’m provoked to ask some questions. They are not easy questions nor are they questions meant to be dismissive. They are questions that have been bubbling up for some time as I observe the landscape.
Now, I have no doubt that there are prejudicial attitudes among some churches that have all white or predominantly white congregants, a lingering remnant of an ugly and rather lengthy historical legacy. We can’t be naive about the historical trek that subjugated black and brown skin to an inferior status such that people who possessed these attributes were not even worthy of being called citizens or even fully human, but slaves and second class citizens who dared not pollute the purity of white culture. We also can’t be naive about the role that the American evangelical church played in supporting this mindset and actually used the Bible to justify such twisted thinking. Yes, this actually did happen.
I get that. I get that church still has some ways to go with respect to racial reconciliation. I get that despite all the progress–and there has been progress–there remains a level of ignorance that still needs addressing. Even though we’ve come a long way, I get that some are unaware of their own unconscious biases that do need challenging if we are truly going to live as brothers and sisters in Christ. Because, if I’m not mistaken, that is the goal to live together as the family of God. Continue reading
I recently came across this article citing a Barna survey that only 17% of Christians (or those who claim to be Christians) have a biblical worldview. Now, the idea of a biblical worldview needs unpacking a bit. I plan on launching a series called Bible in a Nutshell in which I want to show the cohesive story of the Bible. I think this is important as it directly links to this question of what makes a Christian a Christian.
What struck me about this survey is this statement here;
The percentage being so low means practicing Christians have accepted many more worldviews including ones based on other religions—especially when it comes to millennials and Gen Xers.
What is a worldview? Just as it suggests, it’s the framework by which we view the world, how we make sense of it in terms of its existence and purpose. I think this definition from pretty much sums it up.
A “worldview” refers to a comprehensive conception of the world from a specific standpoint. A “Christian worldview,” then, is a comprehensive conception of the world from a Christian standpoint. An individual’s worldview is his “big picture,” a harmony of all his beliefs about the world. It is his way of understanding reality. One’s worldview is the basis for making daily decisions and is therefore extremely important.
How we define a Christian worldview has everything to do with how we define Christianity. How we define Christianity must relate to it’s author, who is Jesus Christ. Who is Jesus and what did he come on earth to do?
While this might seem mundane and basic to some of you reading this, the truth is this Barna study is quite revealing about the way people define Christianity and develop a worldview based on that belief. It’s not surprising to me that the results of the study go on further to suggest that many have developed an unChristian worldview and call it Christianity; Continue reading
Recently, a friend from church was sharing about her episode with anaphylaxis shock. She was home alone with her infant when suddenly and without warning, her body started reacting to what, is unknown. She couldn’t make it to the phone to call her husband or mother-in-law and barely made it to the computer to type a message out. She was going in and out of consciousness and wondered if this was it, was she going to die. But instead of the cheery easiness with which we Christians tend to treat death, there was an easiness about it. Almost a fear, more like dread.
Now this is a strong believer and someone who has had to trust God through some rough stuff. I know there is nothing she would want more than to be in the sweet arms of Jesus. She is not alone. I recall when my son and I were robbed at gunpoint and flashes of losing my life were before me and conjured up that same kind of dread. Or times when experiencing turbulence in airplanes and the mind flashing to a scenario of the plane crashing.
We talked about how these reactions seem contradictory to almost giddy like treatment of death as being a transition from one stage to the other, as if it’s something we should look forward to. I mean, Paul did say, “to be absent from the body is to be present with the Lord.” I would speculate that a good number of Christians experience this kind of apprehension and guilt for thinking it. Are we weak and unfaithful Christians for being apprehensive about death?
No because there is something else to consider: death is a wretched result of the Fall. Death does to us what God did not intend for our bodies to do, be ripped apart. Death reminds us, or should remind us, what tragedy occurred through one man’s disobedience that plunged God’s creation into cosmic devastation. Continue reading