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A Surrendered Soul – Part 1

 

We find ourselves again at a critically important moment of needing to bring unity to very divisive patterns of behavior. It’s understandable; we are sinful people trying to live in community with other sinful people, and that can get messy.

 

In one sense, this is nothing new. Jesus knew unity among Christians would be important, so much so that He devoted time in prayer to the topic the night before His crucifixion. In John 17, Jesus asks His Father to bring unity to all those who will come to believe in His message.

 

Believing that racism is outside of God’s realm has long been part of mainstream Christian practice in the US. Sometimes we want to contrast gospel work with social work. Not all social work is indeed gospel work, but all gospel work puts us right in the middle of the public square.

 

An academic concept called Critical Race Theory (CRT) is being touted as a method of understanding this divide. Some churches teach CRT is opposed to the Christian Faith and communicate that CRT is “At the center of understanding the theological implications and tenets of addressing race.”

 

Those for or against this concept ground their narratives in Scripture. The messages could not be more different, yet both are based on an interpretation of the same Christian faith:

 

“There is neither Jew or Greek, there is neither slave nor free
. . . for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” Gal 3:28

 

Let’s break CRT into digestible bites.
First, A “critical theory” teaches truth is achieved by taking a critical approach to ideas, beliefs, and practices.

 

Second, adding “race” is intended to offer a critical perspective on the causes, consequences, and manifestations of race, racism, inequity, and power and privilege dynamics.

 

The combined concepts lead to the definition:

 

“CRT is the Idea that the law is inherently racist and designed by Caucasians to maintain or further their standing in politics and economics over minorities. As with Marxism, the idea is to have improvements and reform; conflict is necessary to bring about a resolution.”

 

 
As members of the faith community, we must view this definition from the balcony to remind ourselves of what’s really at stake – setting your mind on God’s purposes, not man’s.

 

Does this definition provide a theological perspective of Christ-centered otherness, or is it an attempt to defend or refute strongholds? St. Anselm defined theology as “faith seeking understanding. For it is not the replacement of faith with knowledge; rather, it is faith that motivates understanding and leads us in the pursuit of knowledge.”

 

Biblically speaking, racism is the sin of ethnic partiality or prejudice (James 2:8–9; Leviticus 19:15). As Christians, we know racism is wrong in society, as we are all one race in Adam (Acts 17:26), especially within the church (Galatians 3:28). We should be concerned about racism and aim to think biblically about it.

 

Allow me to take you to the balcony to bring nuance to this charged conversation.

 

Everyone sees things from their perspective and creates a set of beliefs to support their argument. On Sundays, 9 in 10 Christian churches nationally are predominantly of one race group, according to LifeWay Research. Is it the preaching style, musical preferences, or something else?

 

How should the church respond to the racism that many believers have endured from within their faith community? And how does the watching world respond to the Great Commission when viewed through the lens of our actions?

 

Three of the words could be viewed as problematic in this CRT definition and cloud a thoughtful analysis:
  1. The capitalized word “Idea” is code for I don’t believe this principle, and neither should you.
  2. The reference to “Marxism” puts the definition (and issue) into a frame of materialism and capitalism.
  3. “Conflict” is a code for disagreement with the status quo.

 

Instead of adopting secular methods and applying secular thinking to fix spiritual problems, Christians should look to the whole of Scripture to address relational behavior within the body.

 

We must be thoughtful about our actions and conversation, so we can deal with the underlying issue: the sin of self-interest and Satan’s efforts to continue to breed prejudice, mistrust, and chaos.

 

We understand the original Biblical idea that life gets better through difficult times, and we keep going because there is hope. It’s when we are tested that we learn who we really are. There is no better time than this Lenten season to access how we view our fellow brothers and sisters.

 

Take some time to do your own research on the subject of CRT. Then you can effectively engage with Part 2, as we will explore the assumptions made and how their interpretations may cloud or clarify a Christ-centered resolution to race within the church.

 

Most importantly, you will discover if you are operating from a soul surrendered to the will of God or the will of self-interest. . .

 

 

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The Black Church Is A Spiritual Virtue

 

 

“Back then, Black churches were a small piece of peace.
Church was a world where, even with its imperfections,
the offer of equality and common humanity was the sustenance needed to make it through the rest of the week
in a society that deemed them less than human.”

 

Today you will read the “heart cry” of Dante Stewart that encapsulates the hurt, pain, and disappointment of many. As you read this, prayerfully consider how we bring unity to the body of Christ.
Guest Author: Dante Stewart
I can remember when it first happened — when my dungeon shook and my chains fell off. I had recently gone through a horrible experience and felt there was nowhere to turn, no one who could give voice to my ache, my pain, and my rage.

 

I feared that many wouldn’t understand.

 

At the time, I was immersed in White evangelical church life. I had been the one selected to lead a group through John Piper’s Bloodlines because the church wanted to be more “diverse.” I was probably the first black person to preach there.

 

That usually came with a badge of honor — the “first” usually means you’re breaking barriers (or so I thought). Then Trump happened. Then the shootings of unarmed black people. Then … the white responses in the church I was in.

 

I was confused.

 

“How could they be around me and my wife and say this about black people?”
“How did they not know us?”
“How could they believe this?”
“Why aren’t we speaking about this?”

 

Confusion compounded by the employer who used my abstention from the National Anthem as an opportunity to lecture me on NFL protests and oppression.

 

Confusion compounded by the colleagues who said, “there’s no need for Black History Month,” and another, “there’s no such thing as black theology.”

 

Confusion compounded by another colleague who reported me for inappropriate touching after I side-hugged her while bidding her a good weekend. Maybe at that moment I forgot all the lessons my mom taught me about being careful around white women. Did she know that they see her as innocent and me as a danger? Maybe she believed the lie that Amy Cooper believed: that her whiteness is a weapon to keep a “n— in his place.”

 

And then my confusion turned to rage as the comments continued.

 

“You are losing the gospel.” 
“I’m not racist.” 
“You’re a social justice warrior.” 
“I have black friends.” 
“All lives matter.”
“Black men need to stop killing black men.”
“It’s a sin problem, not a skin problem.” 
“Jesus came to change hearts not societies.” 

 

Black rage in an anti-black world is a spiritual virtue. Rage shakes us out of our illusion that the world as it is, is what God wants. Rage forces us to deal with the gross system of inequality, exploitation, and disrespect. Rage is the public cry for black dignity. It becomes the public expression of a theological truth that black lives matter to God.

 

Rage is the work of love that stands against an unloving world. Rage is the good news that though your society forgets you and works against you, there is Someone who loves you and believes you are worth fighting for.
⠀

 

If you’re more concerned about the responses of black rage than you are about a system that justifies and rewards black death, you don’t love black people — you just love when they stay in their place. And that’s not love, that’s hate.

 

So, I wept — I wept because I felt so powerless, so vulnerable, so unloved, so hated.

 

In “A Letter to My Nephew,” James Baldwin wrote:
Please try to remember that what they believe, as well as what they do and cause you to endure, does not testify to your inferiority, but to their inhumanity and fear.

 

His words hit me with the sort of mercy, a grace as if Almighty God was speaking, when he wrote, “You don’t be afraid. I said it was intended that you should perish …”

 

But I did not. We did not. We are still here. It was at that moment that a fire came over me. It was then that my dungeon shook, the chains of fear fell off, and the bones began to rumble, and the sinews that made flesh black began to come to life. It was not just the question, “Lord, can these bones live?” No. It was, “Lord, where will these bones go?”

 

I needed to give voice to God’s action in the black experience, our suffering, and our resistance. I needed to bear witness to the struggle for our freedom. I needed to give voice to being both black and Christian. I did — and I never looked back.

 

James Cone said after the Detroit rebellion, “I could no longer write the same way, following the lead of Europeans and white Americans.”

 

And don’t we feel this? With white racial paranoia. With Trump. And now with black suffering in COVID-19, Ahmaud Arbery, Breonna Taylor, George Floyd. Terror. We saw the responses to the cries of our people as many of our women, children, and men became hashtags. They praised “black forgiveness,” called us to speak of love, when their people gave us death. Our people’s blood cries out from the ground.

 

What does theology have to say in the black freedom struggle today? What does faith say in the face of black death? What is good news for black people in America’s racial caste? Cone was right: “I had to find a new way of talking about God that was accountable to black people and their fight for justice.”

 

I am black; I am Christian. We have been through hell in this country — and we’re still going through it. But I too am America; this is my country. Being black in an anti-black world becomes the greatest spiritual, moral, and political task of each generation.

 

The journey has been long and a struggle for many of us — trying to speak of Christian faith and being black in America — but it is also empowering. We know that we come from a long tradition of black people who refused to accept the tragic belief and practices of white supremacy — the belief that we are second-class citizens, that we deserve exploitation and punishment, that we deserve disrespect and death, that we must be respectable and cater to the demands of whiteness. No. We will not.

 

Many will believe we have exaggerated the scope and depth of injustice. That’s okay. We’re fighting for hope, we’re fighting for love, we’re fighting to live. This world as black people experience it is not the world as it should be. All of us must give voice to the hope of a better day. There’s no other way.

 

To love, to struggle, to fight, to pray, to embrace, to remember — these become our sword and shield. To protest violence against black people is a spiritual virtue, moral obligation, and political practice. In a world that wounds the souls of black folk, it represents the Spirit of God at work resisting the evil of white supremacy and murder with impunity. It’s holy work. Through rage and heartbreak, we work. Until we are free, we can never rest.

 

SOURCE: Sojourners, Black Range In An Anti-Black World Is A Spiritual Virtue, May 29, 2020

 

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Inoculation Against Hopelessness 💉
“We wait in hope for the LORD; he is our help and our shield.
In him our hearts rejoice, for we trust in his holy name.
May your unfailing love rest upon us,
O LORD, even as we put our hope in you.”
Psalms 33:20-22 (NIV)

 

We made it to the new year! Between the pandemic, economic stimulus, racial tension, and political upheaval, 2020 brought on an endless onslaught of emotions. At the end of the long and grueling year (it was just a day or so ago), most of us could use a few words of inspiration and wisdom. So take a virtual seat beside the fire and let’s chat.
First and foremost, we can take solitude that God is still in control. Our dependence can remain in Him and in Him alone. He has promised to not put more on us than we can bear. Nothing happened or is going to happen of which He is not already aware. With that knowledge we can pray,

 

“So, in my trials, God, help me to fix my eyes not on what is seen, the temporary things that burden me, but on what is unseen, that which is eternal. I praise You that You comfort me in my troubles so that I can comfort others with that same comfort.”

 

Our trials are not to be eliminated but seasoned and buoyed up with love and hope because they sharpen us for our destiny.

 

Second, we don’t need to make resolutions this year. We can choose to focus on the outcomes you want and avoid getting caught up in the obstacles to achieving them. Getting mired in a daunting list of obstacles will prevent you from stimulating awareness of all the options you have for succeeding. Adapt your action plans as life unfolds differently than you originally planned, ensuring your actions align with your values and the Word of God. We tend to give too much power to things that are out of their control. You don’t have to be perfect and a big part of accepting this is learning how to embrace your failures, imperfections and fears. Confronting them so you can grow and become the person you are called to be.
Refrain from focusing on self-interest based on acquiring power, status, social recognition, tangible, or intangible rewards. Instead, focus on self-sacrifice based on personal growth and understanding of your patterns of behavior that affect family, friends, health, and relationships. Think about relating more deeply to others, building community, demonstrating love to the unlovable, being of service, or learning something new that enables you to serve others better.

 

You can walk in the grace of resilience, strength, and, yes, hope. Never lose hope – the world was a mess, but God, because He loves us, gave us His son. God has promised victory to all who remain faithful throughout the generations; regardless of social location, race or economic status. God includes and protects each of us, and we are guaranteed a place in his presence. We can be assured that God hasn’t given up on us, let’s not give up on each other.

 

Biblical hope is an application of your faith that supplies a confident expectation in God’s fulfillment of His promises. So demonstrate the power of love and hope one to another. As Wuthnow says, “If we see our own identity [as] part of a divine or transcendent plan, then those who are not us must have an identity within this understanding as well.”

 

When you feel you are losing hope remember – “love your neighbor. . .” came from a man the people slandered. “Forgive them. . .” came from a man who the people crucified on the cross. “I know the plans I have for you. . . to give you a future and a hope. . .” came from the man who promised better things are yet to come!

 

Now go be great in 2021!