Dressing Our Wounds

 As many of you may know, I recently moved to Atlanta and this month started a new job as an English teacher at a private high school here (not a perfect excuse, but at least a good explanation for the two month lapse in posts here). Over the summer, all of the students in our school read Rising out of Hatred: The Awakening of a Former White Nationalist and my classes have spent the past two weeks discussing and writing about it. The book, written by Washington Post reporter Eli Saslow, details the racial awakening of Derek Black, godson of David Duke and son of Don Black, a former KKK grand wizard and founder of the white nationalist online forum Stormfront. After a childhood seeped in racist ideology, Derek was a rising star in the White Nationalist movement, well on his way to following in the footsteps of his father and godfather, but after leaving home to attend New College, a liberal arts school in Sarasota, Florida, he began to question whether the ideals he was raised with were really worth fighting for. Eventually, through relationships and dialogue with people outside of his White Nationalist bubble, Derek experienced a turnaround and renounced his beliefs with an op-ed in the New York Times. 

In discussing the book, I found my students had no trouble relating to Alison and Matthew, the characters who slowly pushed Derek to reconsider his worldview, but were quick to disassociate with Derek’s blind spots around race. I specifically challenged my advanced classes to consider the stages of Derek’s “awakening” as it related to the formation of their own understandings and biases around race and class, but most struggled to draw parallels. Yet, as America finds itself in this moment of racial reckoning, I remain convinced that we (specifically those of us who were raised in white, judeo-christian, middle-class communities) must continue to recognize, talk about, and, like Derek Black finally did, repent of the ways in which we have allowed and participated in racism. We may not have been raised by the KKK, but subtle acts of racism are in many ways even more insidious than outright bigotry, so we must commit to correcting our blind spots and addressing the injustices we once overlooked.

Specifically, I feel particularly called to keep speaking out against the ways in which I continue to see too many White evangelicals pushing back against the call to uproot racist structures in our churches and communities. I have seen an alarming number of posts on social media from conservative Christians decrying books like White Fragility and How to be an Antiracist as “dangerous” texts, denouncing “Critical Race Theory” as “Marxist indoctrination,” and “Godless” false teaching, full of heretical ideas threatening to corrupt the church from within. I expect this kind of rhetoric from politicians like Trump, who released an executive order this week essentially barring government agencies from diversity trainings that acknowledge racial bias, and wants to keep teachers like me from indoctrinating the youth of America with unpatriotic ideas (you know, like, equality, freedom, and justice for all), but it wounds my spirit to hear the same talking points from those who claim to follow Jesus-- a man who, I will not stop pointing out, was actually a religious and cultural minority unjustly executed under the authority of a powerful empire. I can’t ignore the hypocrisy of those who are quick to warn against the dangers of  being “led astray” by “worldly” economic and social theories, but continue to avoid deep consideration of the ways in which equally Godless and, in my opinion, more problematic ideologies like colonialism, nationalism, capitalism, patriarchy, and White supremacy have already corrupted our theology, ruptured our church communities, hurt people of color, and removed credibility from our witness to anyone on the outside looking in. (Side note: I won’t go any further into Critical Race Theory today but for anyone looking for a thorough analysis of the ideology from a Christian perspective: check blogger Bradly Mason’s four part series The Christian and Critical Race Theory).

I recently saw someone use Romans 8:1 “There is now therefore no condemnation for those who are in Christ Jesus,” as an argument for why White Christians should not be “shamed” into thinking critically about race. In this person’s mind, what Paul calls “condemnation” is equivalent to the guilt and shame that often arises for white people when we begin to look deeply at structural racism and privilege. But I understand this scripture differently. The fact that God’s grace frees us from condemnation should allow us MORE fortitude to examine and confess the ugliest depths of our sins- including not just our own individual biases, but also the systemic and collective sins of our forefathers--historic sins that built oppressive systems benefitting us while hurting those we should consider our neighbors. Just because we are not condemned by our sins does not mean that we can pretend they never happened. Two chapters earlier in Romans, Paul says, “What then? Are we to sin because we are not under law but under grace? By no means!” 

As a beloved community united under grace, it is imperative that we “confess our sins to one another and pray for one another so that we may be healed.” (James 5:16).  Wendell Berry refers to racism in America as “a hidden wound,” a deep and painful cut infecting us from within. Without confession, the wound continues to fester, poisoning more and more of our parts, until the whole body becomes septic. The words of the prophet Jeremiah come to mind: “They dress the wound of my people as if it were not serious. Peace, Peace, they say, when there is no peace.” Racism is a scourge that hurts people made in the image of God and none of us in America are immune to it. We have been papering over the pain of our black and brown brothers and sisters for far too long. Now is the time to confess our callousness and repent of our part in their pain. Now is the time to listen to their heartbreak & obey the command to "weep with those who weep." We cannot say “Peace, Peace,” until all of God's people have peace. Like the people of Zion, American Christians stand at a crossroads. May we listen to the LORD, “ask where the good way is, and walk in it.” (Jeremiah 6:16)