race

Where Do We Go From Here?

I M A G O D E I

Special Eight-Week Series: 

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Where Do We Go From Here?
by, Darryl Answer, Co-Pastor of New Community Church

Spanish Translation

In 1967 Dr. Martin Luther King asked a question in the title of his book “Where do we go from here: Chaos or Community?” Though that book was written 53 years ago, this question is hauntingly relevant in our current moment of heightened racial tensions, not only in America, but in other nations where White Supremacy continues to be the framework that people of color must navigate and even survive. As I have pondered Dr. King's question, read the words of the Biblical and modern-day prophets, cried with my black and brown sisters and brothers, I humbly submit my answers to the question, “Where do we go from here?”

Repent (of white supremacy):

The Greek word for repent is Metanoia. This is not only a turning from old behaviors that are out of alignment with God (sin), but it is a change of mind, a paradigm shift. It is an invitation to see with new eyes, and in doing so move forward with renewed vision and purpose. When it comes to conversations about race, for some there is a visceral reaction to the words “white supremacy.” It conjures up for many images of burning crosses, men in white hoods, and the lynching of black bodies. 

These overt displays of racism feel far removed from our current realities in 21st century America, but if we look at white supremacy with eyes of repentance, we will recognize how this social construction has shaped our current reality inside and outside the church. With new eyes, we will see how white supremacy not only dictates our racially segregated neighborhoods and schools, but also our racially segregated pews and pulpits. With new eyes, we will seek righteousness and do justice in ways that center those on the margins and does away with white saviorism. With new eyes, we will see all people as image-bearers of God, and no longer live into our racial hierarchies. 

When we become a people who are on a journey of repentance, we will see better, we will know better, and we will do better. 

Listen (to women of color): 

In light of our current moment, there has been a desire to learn more about how race and white supremacy have led us to this moment. There has been a surge in racial bias trainings, book clubs, and webinars, all with the desire for knowledge that for the first time will result in racial healing. I am grateful for this. In this moment I have witnessed my wife go deeper into her studies as a white woman desiring to engage other white folks who are resistant to the work of uprooting white supremacy. In the midst of this mad dash to learn, I have noticed that the elevated voices, those who are often quoted and asked to speak, those whose books are sold out or on back order, are white. The sad reality is that in the midst of our racial endemic, white people who desire to learn are more likely to listen to other white people. This too is a form of white supremacy. There are many reasons for this, but what I want to encourage white people to do is listen to People of Color. Especially Women of Color. Our African American, Latina,  Asian American, and Native sisters continue to be overlooked in the fight for justice while they are the very ones putting their bodies on the line day in day out for freedom. There are incredible female thinkers, pastors, and leaders who you need to follow on social media, read, and watch. A few of those names are Michelle Higgins, Chanequa Walker-Barnes, Andrea Smith, Angie Hong, Kathy Khang, Dr. Elizabeth Conde-Frazier, and Bethany Rivera Molinar.

If you are serious about your church or ministry engaging in the work of racial righteousness and justice, I strongly encourage you to listen to those closest to the struggle, those being our sisters of color. 

Move (beyond neutrality to “anti-racist”):

Our current moment demands the church do better. We must move beyond racial neutrality to anti-racism. As a black man in America, I can honestly say that churches who maintain the posture of neutrality end up being oppressive spaces where people of color feel tokenized but not heard. We are invited to the (white) table but are unable to bring our full selves. Our bodies are welcome, not our voice, power, leadership, culture, etc. We are traumatized by your white silence. Do you see us?

One way we can be anti-racist, especially in this moment is to be in solidarity with those who have experienced and are in opposition to police brutality. Too many times, in moments when people are rising up, seeking justice, and working towards true peace for all, the church creates parallel movements. These movements can be prayer gatherings, marches, and rallies that don’t include the marginalized, but take place in partnership with those in power. This may be unintentional, but in this pursuit of “peace” what we are really doing is undermining the true work for justice, part of which is exposing and disrupting evil to create a better future. The church must be careful not to resist the resistance taking place in our streets. We should be the prophetic witness that calls out “Empire” and invites people into the alternative community known as the Kingdom of God. To be about kingdom work is to be anti-racist. What will this look like for you personally, in your family, your workplace, where you study, or your ministry? 

So, where do we go from here? How do we move toward God’s vision for our churches in light of our racialized society? We must begin with repentance, uprooting white supremacy in our churches. We must listen to and value people of color who are experts in this field, especially Black women. We must become anti-racist in all areas of our lives and ministries because neutrality is killing our witness.  White supremacy has blinded the eyes of many in the white church and has broken the bodies of many people of color. The reality is we all suffer from this racial endemic, but I remain hopeful because my Lord left the throne of heaven to become poor, marginalized, and afflicted under the Roman regime. He was beaten. He was executed on a cross like a criminal. But, on the third day, he rose in victory. Like the old hymn says, “Because he lives, I can face tomorrow,” and with that hope in my heart I press on to be part of the community He gave his life for.

About the Author

Darryl Answer was born and raised in London, England. He is currently co-pastor of New Community Church, a recent church plant in Kansas City, MO. Darryl has served in a variety of leadership roles within churches, non-profit organizations, and in community development.  Darryl also provides consulting and training for organizations and churches in the areas of Racial Justice and Asset-Based Community Development (ABCD). Darryl and his wife, Stephanie, live in the Kansas City with their two children, Jaidyn and Kian.

This is the final Adelante Express dedicated to exploring themes related to the concept of the Imago Dei and racial justice. We hope this series has caused you to think about and explore what it means to love our neighbor and see the image of God in them.

 
 

Racial Trauma and Black Resilience

I M A G O D E I

Special Eight-Week Series: 

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Racial Trauma and Black Resilience
by, Kori Carew, Mission Adelante Board Member, Chief Inclusion & Diversity Officer Seyfarth Shaw LLP, and Founder/Speaker Bridge 68 LLC

Spanish Translation

Like many, I have felt rage, sorrow, grief, fear, despair, hopelessness, helplessness, and anxiety from uncertainty-and even questioned my work and impact in this world since May 25. I cried myself to sleep on May 26 and did not wake up the next day feeling any better. In fact, I struggled through the work day. I later learned that my experience was not unique as Black people all over the world found it hard to function in the days after George Floyd was callously killed on camera, his breath snuffed out over 8 minutes and 46 seconds.

As a Christian who is Black, I turn to Christ and my church family in good times and in bad. And yet over the years, it has become increasingly hard to turn to my church family. In fact, I have questioned, do I have a church family? Do I belong? Way too often the answer has been no. Way too often the reception has been one of denial or centering white comfort.

All around you, your Black colleagues, family, and friends have had to struggle through being professional as they show up to work every day and are not doing okay. We are not okay. The impact of systemic racism and the violence that we know has always been there is now captured on phones for all to see.  And because of 24-hour news cycles, repeat viewing (often unintentional) we experience trauma, stress, and anxiety.

In the weeks since George Floyd’s murder, the country has been engulfed in a racial awakening.  I have watched the larger faith community continue to struggle to find its voice. On one hand, it was affirming to see many churches take firm, bold, and unapologetic stands decrying systemic racism, decrying police brutality, and some even owning the failure of the White Evangelical church to proactively address White supremacy in the church.  As in prior incidents of racial terror and dehumanization however, it was also painful to also see many churches remain silent, or offer weak statements that included equivocation.

My story is not universal, but I also know my pain and disappointment at the failure of the church to step up and stand up for Black lives, racial justice, and racial reconciliation has felt like an abandonment. The posture of not strongly addressing racism as part and parcel of the call for us to love our neighbors as Christ loves us has communicated that we, as people, are loveable only in as much as our pain, our experiences, and the injustice we experience can be hidden from view and discussion.  In this, we continue to fail. You cannot love a person you won’t see and grow to know. As people, we are not visible if we must conform. Belonging requires authenticity and that we bring our whole selves. This is true in our families, our churches, and in our workplaces. This is why every time we show up on Sunday after yet another racial tragedy and there is silence from the pulpit, we hurt. 

Some Christians hide behind a theology that says we need only love each other and racism will disappear.  To those, I say, “God asks us to do the work”. We are here, as His representatives, to do the work. God shows up in those around us, through us. We must remember that the same God who told us the Holy Spirit will always be with us to guide us also told us, through apostle Paul, that we must continue to renew our mind. And guess what?  We are not showing up when we choose not to confront interpersonal and systemic racism.

In the last several weeks, I have read think pieces claiming the current movement for Black lives and justice is worldly and not from God. I have read pieces decrying all sorts of things -- from Critical Race Theory to the organization Black Lives Matter. From these same people, I have NOT seen their alternative approach or their engagement in the fight for justice. I see criticism with no accompanying action. I hear excuses and deflection and no love.

Racism, like shame, hides behind silence and grows in the dark. Our unwillingness to speak of it, to deconstruct it, and to stand in the discomfort of what our deconstruction unearths allows it to continue to permeate our institutions, beliefs, and churches. Believe me when I tell you that White Supremacy is still in the church.

Despite the failure of your country and our church to adequately stand up for Black lives, Black people continue to epitomize resilience. From slavery until today, we see a people who deal with racial trauma and continue to keep trying. Our country demands of Black people a constant reassurance of forgiveness. In fact, in our churches, the stories we love to tell to highlight reconciliation seem to be the ones where Black people instantly forgive racial aggression. There is nothing wrong with forgiveness. However, it is the unwritten expectation of forgiveness from this one group of people, more than any other, that is problematic.

Black resilience shows up in the fact that many a Black Christian has made space to listen to their White Brethren and Sistren tell them how shocked they are at how bad things continue to be.  We have held space for our White brothers to wax poetic about Critical Race Theory and its flaws, while saying nothing about Black blood spilled in the street.  We’ve sat to explain why a sensitivity to the words White Supremacy should not negate a commitment to fight for equality, if you are a true ally. And yet Black Christians continue to do this -- make space, get back up again, even while dealing with their own racial trauma. The trauma from racism, the repeated acts of racism we face daily, from micro-inequities to explicit violent bias, impact us physically, mentally, and psychologically. And yet, we get up, we go to work, and we go to church and worship, often with fellow Christians who may not even acknowledge what is happening around them when it comes to race.

Two weeks ago I was on a town hall video webinar for a bar association with a global footprint. We were discussing racism, allyship, and policing. We were “Zoom-bombed” by people who used violent language towards us. We were called Nigger Apes and more. My family was threatened. It was awful and those on the video webinar were visibly shaken and upset. The speakers, all Black professionals, stayed calm and finished the program. I went back to work. Work for me is making space for difficult conversations, focusing on policy changes to create equity, strategic planning, counseling, mentoring, coaching, interrupting systemic problems that lead to inequity, teaching, designing educational curriculum, wiping tears, and the list goes on. You can bet that with the COVID-19 pandemic and the racial pandemic work has meant longer hours, more stress, more demands, and more needs for strong leadership. And like millions of Black people, I go back to doing myself after being threatened and verbally abused with words that, for hundreds of years, have been used to instill fear and humiliation.

The work that remains to be done is not about hearing more stories of black pain and trauma. The work that remains to be done is for the church to hurt the way God’s heart hurts around racial injustice and inequity. The work that remains to be done is for us to move from thoughts and prayers to action. I have said this before and strongly believe that the church is Plan A. Let’s be Plan A.

Over the next eight weeks, we will dedicate our Adelante Express to exploring themes related to the concept of the Imago Dei and racial justice. We invite you to follow this series and explore what it means to love our neighbor and see the image of God in them.

 
 

I'm White and This Conversation Is Hard

I M A G O D E I

Special Eight-Week Series: 

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I’m White and This Conversation Is Hard
by, Jarrett Meek, Founder/Pastor/Executive Director

Spanish Translation

So, you’re White and you’re feeling frustrated and uncomfortable with all the racial tension happening in our country right now.  You are against racism, but you don’t like the tone of the discussion or some of the things that are happening at the protests. You recognize there’s a problem with racism in our country still, but you’re skeptical about “systemic racism”, and you are very uncomfortable with rhetoric that makes you feel guilty for being White. You’re at a loss for how to respond, because so much of what you hear doesn’t fit with your own experience, and it seems that anything you say or do will be misinterpreted and you’ll end up being labeled a racist.  So how can someone like you learn, engage, and contribute to solutions on issues of racial justice? In this edition of our Imago Dei series, I would like to lay out a few important lessons I’ve learned in my own personal journey. 

Embrace the Discomfort: The devastation that racism has caused in our country is far beyond what most White people can imagine or have begun to process.  There is simply no nice, clean, tidy, or orderly way to address it.  Truly engaging in the issue of racism is like walking into a city recently destroyed by war- if we think we can walk through clean and unscathed, with our khaki shorts and flip-flops, we are in for a shocking surprise.  As White people, we mostly see racism from a distance.  If you really want to engage, you will need to be ready to confront the harsh and raw realities on the ground.  And, what you see and hear on the ground may seem offensive to you and will challenge what you thought you knew about race in our country. Interestingly, even Dr. King, seen from a distance historically, is now universally praised.  Despite what popular quotes and MLK day memes might lead you to believe, at the time- he was extremely polarizing and controversial.  His movement sparked bombings, turned cities upside down, included marching on highways, and confrontations with police.  I’m not suggesting that you shut off your discernment.  However, if you find yourself often raising objections or finding fault, you might be lining up on the wrong side of the field.  Your tolerance level for personal discomfort and the messiness of this struggle will have to increase a lot in order to be able to see, understand, and confront racial injustice in any meaningful way.
 
Learn to Recognize Racism in Yourself: So many White people shut down the conversation about race when they begin to perceive they are being implicated as part of the problem.  Sometimes the message we hear is “White people are BAD!”.  Rather than listen and process what is really being said, our defenses go up, and we shut down.  The challenging truth in all of this is that we really can’t contribute much to progress on racism until we are able to see it in ourselves.  It is sobering and painful to admit that we have somehow internalized a belief that we are better than others.  However, this mentality is often just under the surface, and it seeps out in ways we often don’t even recognize.  Unfortunately, if we can’t recognize our part in the problem, there is no way we can contribute meaningfully to any solutions.  Engaging the discussion on racism requires us to take a Psalm 139 posture continuously: “Search me, O God, and know my heart! Try me and know my thoughts!  And see if there be any grievous way in me, and lead me in the way everlasting!”  I lead a multicultural ministry and the only way I have been able to learn the lessons I’ve needed to learn on race is by being corrected.  Those corrections have sometimes been painful, but they have been some of the most important catalysts for my personal, spiritual growth.  I encourage you to embrace opportunities to explore where the ideology of White supremacy might be hiding in your own heart and mind. 

Step Down from the Seat of Judgement: I’m going to say something that might be hard to hear- as a White person: It is unlikely that you have much expertise to add to the discussion on racial justice. Your experience and understanding is most likely theoretical and developed at a distance from the realities that really shape our current situation.  We all would agree that there is a big difference between a person who has learned in a classroom and a person who has 30 years of experience in the field.  It’s easy to find things we disagree with in any broad movement, but when our learning is done only theoretically, in the classroom (or worse, from the perspective of political commentary), we don’t have the necessary context to apply that learning appropriately.  So, we can sound smart when we debate “Critical Race Theory” or cite “Black-on Black” crime statistics, but our understanding and experience is woefully lacking.  Unfortunately, as humans, we don’t like to be wrong or for our ignorance to be exposed.  And as White people, we are used to taking a superior position of judgment when it comes to other racial groups.  If we truly want to learn and contribute meaningfully to progress on racial justice, we must learn to listen to Black leaders, especially Christians, who are actively engaged in racial justice work. As a side note, latching on to Black voices whose views confirm your own but represent only a small percentage of the Black perspective probably won’t get you where you need to go.

Understand the Importance of Justice in Reconciliation: Do you remember the Promise Keepers movement?  They were an organization in the 1990s that encouraged men to be more godly husbands.  Part of the Promise Keepers movement included a strong emphasis on racial reconciliation.  I attended some of their stadium events and was greatly encouraged by them.  Unfortunately, the movement did not produce the kind of lasting racial reconciliation that would be visible today.  I believe one reason has to do with the critical relationship between racial justice and racial reconciliation.  Many White Christians are longing for unity as their Black brothers and sisters struggle under inequities and injustices that we refuse to see and neglect to address.  How can genuine reconciliation occur if White Christians will not join our Black brothers and sisters in their struggle for justice?  Is it right to place all the emphasis on unity when the injustices faced by our Black neighbors have a generational link to our own prosperity?  Yes, God is a God of reconciliation.  But, friends, we must recognize that asking for a unity that doesn’t include justice for our brothers and sisters is cruel and wrong.  Let our unity be bound together and validated in Christ by our practical, actionable concern and love for our neighbor. 

One of the most meaningful areas of growth for me personally over the last 10 years has been the privilege of beginning to experience what I refer to as a “new we”.  I have begun to have fellowship and unity with people of diverse backgrounds and races. Yes, I am still very much a work in progress when it comes to my own racial biases, but I have learned so many important lessons and I am experiencing the kind of racial reconciliation many of us say we want. My own journey has been uncomfortable at times- learning to see racial bias in myself has been confusing and frustrating.  I’ve had to embrace my own lack of understanding and become primarily a learner on issues of race.  And, I’ve come to understand that one of the most important keys to opening up the door to real reconciliation is joining the struggle for racial justice. It has been one big exercise in humility.

Over the next six weeks, we will dedicate our Adelante Express to exploring themes related to the concept of the Imago Dei and racial justice. We invite you to follow this series and explore what it means to love our neighbor and see the image of God in them.

 
 

Black Ministry Leaders in a White-Dominated Church World

I M A G O D E I

Special Six-Week Series: 

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Black Ministry Leaders in a White-Dominated Church World
by, Chuck Allen, Ministry Leader for 20+ Years

Spanish Translation

A Note from Jarrett Meek about the Author

Chuck Allen was one of the first names I heard when I moved to Wyandotte County to start Mission Adelante.  “Have you met Chuck Allen yet?” “You’ve got to meet Chuck Allen!”  Since then, our ministries have intersected many times and we’ve become friends and brothers.  The Lord’s impact on our community through Chuck has been deep and significant.  Reading the painful experiences he expresses in this article is both sad and disturbing.  Unfortunately, Chuck is not the only minority ministry leader in Kansas City who has expressed these kinds of painful experiences to me.  We have more work to do than we have even begun to understand.

Black Ministry Leaders in a White-Dominated Church World

Over the past several years, I have come to understand my position as a Black leader in a White-dominated Christian world as all but empowering. For too long, I lived in a space where many of my Christian brothers and sisters expected my compliance through my words and my actions in return for their money and resources.

I was born and raised in Wyandotte County Kansas (Kansas City) and when I left to attend Kansas State University, I said that I would never go back to what my young eyes saw as a broken, barren, and blighted community. Thirteen years after leaving, I returned with my wife and our four children to begin a ministry that would serve students and families of our community.

Wyandotte County is rich in diversity, creativity, intellect, and perseverance, but our people are poor financially. As a result, urban ministry leaders like myself go to great lengths to raise financial support, often at the expense of their own dignity.

The Parrot and The Mascot

Not long ago, a leader of a suburban church that supported our urban ministry voiced his disapproval towards posts I had made on social media. He ended his remarks with a threat “Don’t bite the hand that feeds you.” This was a warning that he and his church might stop supporting our ministry if I continued to speak and post on topics that made readers uncomfortable, i.e. posts that discussed racial injustices in America as well as within the Christian Church.

This was one of many experiences that solidified my conclusion that many, not all, White Christian leaders are only willing to give money to urban ministries if the leader exists as a parrot.

Most people are enamored by parrots, who are taught by their owners to mimic clever words and phrases. The owner will often take the bird out of its cage so his friends can get a closer look and hear more clearly the words its owner has taught it to say. This pattern of learning and memorization is impressive. As the parrot continues to impress, others might swoop in, teaching the bird new phrases, essentially tarnishing the special control between the owner and the bird. The bird’s voice, which no longer only repeats the owners, becomes a dangerous entity to the master, especially if the parrot begins to chirp nonsense from its beak. This seemingly obedient bird is only good when it repeats the master, and becomes embarrassing, shameful, and annoying when it speaks flaws or blurts out disparaging phrases that expose the owner. When this happens, the owner reprimands his parrot and then re-teaches him the ‘proper’ things to say. If the bird doesn’t change, he merely gets a new parrot, for there are many more to train at the pet store.

During my time as a ministry leader in a white-dominated church world, I have been reprimanded for being an outspoken, embarrassing parrot. Often, God’s resources were held hostage and the ransom was my compliance. But now, this once-caged bird sings a different song.

The Mascot 

Different than the parrot who is either praised or reprimanded for what he says, a mascot is valued for his appearance and how he performs but is expected to remain silent. Playing the role of a mascot is particularly disempowering.

Some Black ministry leaders like myself have been nothing more than a mascot for some White ministries and their leaders. The role of a mascot is to be seen and not heard. Our picturesque presence and perky performance often deceive parishioners into believing their all White church is inclusive, welcoming, and most importantly, post-racial, when in fact our presence is merely a veil that covers the ugly truth that racism is still prevalent in White church culture. 

When Blacks and/or other People of Color are used to increase a church’s social standing and/or soothe the consciousness of their practitioners it is both condescending and egregious. We are not parrots. We are not mascots.

Being a Black ministry leader in a White-dominated Church world is both tiring and frustrating. It shouldn’t be this way. Here are some things that you can do to change this.

  1. Go beyond conversations about changing yourself and your church environment. Conversations should be joined with academic readings that expose our nation’s wretched treatment of People of Color. Academic readings should be joined with actions, i.e. participating in anti-racist events and financially supporting organizations that fight for change and justice within and outside of the church. Conversations without change communicate a lack of care to minority brothers and sisters.

  2. If your only Black “friends” are urban ministry leaders, you may think you’re “woke” when in fact you are sleep-walking. Having lunch with a few Black folks once a month is not enough. If you really want to understand, make time to humbly and vulnerably enter into the pain that African Americans and many other racial minorities have and continue to endure.

  3. Always give without expecting anything in return. This includes your time, money, energy, and resources.

Chuck Allen has been married for more than 26 years. He and his wife Tricia have four adult children and two grandchildren. He has served in urban ministry for more than 20 years.

Over the next six weeks, we will dedicate our Adelante Express to exploring themes related to the concept of the Imago Dei and racial justice. We invite you to follow this series and explore what it means to love our neighbor and see the image of God in them.

 
 

Racial Justice and the Gospel: Is There A Connection?

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Special Six-Week Series: 

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Racial Justice and the Gospel: Is There A Connection?
by, Luke Bobo, Director of Strategic Partnerships at Made to Flourish

Spanish Translation

Why is it Good News?

The gospel is good news! 

That's true, but let’s go deeper. Why is the gospel good news? In Genesis 15:1-15, God cuts a covenant with a bewildered and impatient Abraham (and with all of his future descendants and that includes you and me as Romans 4:13-21 makes abundantly clear). The covenant cutting ceremony in this passage is remarkably eye-opening! Typically, the two parties cutting a covenant in the ancient near east (ANE) would walk the bloody path one at a time. As each party walked this blood-stained path, they were agreeing that if they went back on their word, they were doomed to suffer the same fate as these dead carcasses. However, in this ceremony, only God walks the bloody path (Genesis 15:17). Let that sink in for a moment. God commits to suffering the same fate as these dead carcasses if he goes back on his covenant promises to Father Abraham.  

Our personal testimonies, and the Bible’s testimony, reminds us that God is forever faithful and that he never goes back on his word because he never lies (Numbers 23:19). Rather, we are the unfaithful ones; we lie; we have betrayed God over and over again. We have not kept our side of the bargain. Our unfaithfulness, our multiple and egregious crimes against God, our break with the covenant demanded a punishment because God is just. In God’s impartial criminal justice system, we were found guilty beyond a reasonable doubt. Our sentence: death. We were placed on death row awaiting our execution.

My readers know that nearly 236 years ago, José Gabriel Condorcanqui – known as Túpac Amaru – and his wife, Commander Micaela Bastidas, Bartolina Sisa, and other heroes were viciously murdered by "civilized" Spaniards. The gospel is good news because Jesus, our hero, stepped forward as our penal substitution, he took our place on death row. Jesus was viciously murdered for our exoneration. And his death satisfied God’s wrath against us (1 John 2:2). 

Our sinful criminal record has been expunged. Because Jesus died at our expense--because of our inclination to do evil--and because Jesus rose from the dead, we were freed from the tyranny of Satan, freed from the fear of death, and released from power and bondage of sin. 

This is good news indeed. 

Our Three-Fold Response

What should be our response to God clearing our guilty verdict and restoring us to right fellowship with him? What should be our response to God’s lavish grace? One, our response should be hearty “Yes!”  I remember a preacher once said, “If Christ is your Lord, you can never say, ‘No’” to his plans and direction for your life.  If God calls us to go to places we are unfamiliar with, we must say, “Yes.” If God calls us to speak for him, we must say, “Yes.”  If Christ is our Savior and Master, we are his servants and we must avail ourselves to his purposes, no questions asked. Two, our response should be unfettered praise and worship.  However, remember that worship is not relegated only to the gathered church; rather, we worship God by living an obedient life every day of the week (Colossians 3:23-25; Romans 12:1-2). We worship God with our lips and our life. And three, our response should be loving the things that God loves and hating the things that God hates. God loves people of all races and ethnicities; God hates racial injustice. God hates police brutality. God hates racism. God hates white supremacy.  God hates systemic racism. 

Why does God hate racial injustice?


God hates racial injustice for at least two reasons. One, every person is made in God’s image (Genesis 1:26-28). Every person is an imago Dei bearer, where imago Dei means image of God. The implications of every person being made in God’s image are many. Because every person is made in God’s image, every person--regardless of ability, race, ethnicity, gender, socioeconomic status--deserves to be treated with the utmost dignity and respect. Every person has incredible worth and value as imago Dei bearers. Every person has been crowned with royal dignity (Psalm 8) from the womb to the tomb. This means, as Christians, we must treat every person with the utmost dignity and respect and demand the same treatment by every citizen in this country. 

Second, God hates racial injustice because unjust treatment of any imago Dei bearer is an affront to God. Unjust treatment of any imago Dei bearer is like a backhanded slap in God’s face (Proverbs 14:31). So, God calls every believer to defend the cause of the vulnerable and oppressed in this country (Psalm 82:3; Isaiah 1:16-17; James 1:27). God is a God of justice; and he summons his people to be drum majors for and workers of justice (Micah 6:8; Matthew 23:23). Justice advances us toward shalom, where shalom is “nothing is missing and nothing is broken.” Consider this quote, “The church is not the church if it does not stand for justice” (Twelve Elements of Economic Wisdom, p. 11). What does this say about Christians who are not actively and wisely engaged in working for justice? 

A car cannot operate without gas; gas fuels a car engine. The good news is our fuel to move. May this good news fuel us to work against racial injustice and injustices of all forms. May we do this work out of gratitude for Jesus paying the unquantifiable cost for our many crimes--past, present, and future. I remember reading that “Justice is simply love distributed,” so may we love our neighbors by seeking to eradicate racial injustice.  May the good news fuel us to worship God every day of the week as we live in obedience to his word.

Over the next six weeks, we will dedicate our Adelante Express to exploring themes related to the concept of the Imago Dei and racial justice. We invite you to follow this series and explore what it means to love our neighbor and see the image of God in them.

 
 

In Union There Is Strength

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Special Six-Week Series: 

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In Union There is Strength
by, Carla Flores, Ministry Apprentice

Spanish Translation

      In 2018, there was a crisis at the Mexico–United States border. Thousands of people facing deportation were being torn away from their families. Children, being separated from their parents, were being placed in detention facilities where they slept on thin mats and cried to see a recognizable face. Thousands of people around the country began protesting, including myself. These detention facilities were treating immigrants and their children terribly and we were outraged. Brown, black, and white brothers and sisters linked arms and yelled until our voices were heard. We knew what was happening to immigrants was cruel and wrong, and together we were stronger. 

     The Black community has been yelling to be heard, friends. As immigrants and Latinos, we know what it’s like to be oppressed and discriminated against. When we ran to the streets and protested, our black brothers and sister ran to our side. Now, we must do the same! In union there is strength and the Bible reminds us of that in Ecclesiastes.

Ecclesiastes 4:12 - “Though one may be overpowered, two can defend themselves. A cord of three strands is not quickly broken.”

     The scripture says it all. Two can defend themselves. Latino community, rise up! Stand and link arms with our Black brothers and sisters. Let’s help them in their fight as they have helped us in ours! We are in this together because the dehumanizing policies that deport us and separate children from their families are branches of the same evil tree that killed George Floyd. Fighting systemic injustices together can make a bigger impact and difference in both of our communities.


    There are tangible and impactful ways that as Latinos we can be involved in fighting for the Black community. We can begin by educating ourselves and those around us about the injustices that the Black community has endured for hundreds of years. We can sign petitions, attend protests, support black-owned businesses, and continue listening and loving our Black brothers and sisters. 

    Black community let us be the second strand in your cord. Let us fight with you because in union there is strength.

Over the next six weeks, we will dedicate our Adelante Express to exploring themes related to the concept of the Imago Dei and racial justice. We invite you to follow this series and explore what it means to love our neighbor and see the image of God in them.

 
 

White Supremacy in the American Church

I M A G O D E I

Special Six-Week Series: 

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White Supremacy in the American Church
by, Jarrett Meek, Founder/Pastor/Executive Director

Spanish Translation

Will the white, Evangelical church in America ever open its eyes to the devastation that racism and the endemic ideology of white supremacy inflicts upon our black brothers and sisters? The events of the last two weeks have moved more white pastors and Christians to make statements against racism. Unfortunately, however, a barely conscious belief in white superiority and dominance still permeates the white church, our mentality, and our society to a degree that is not so easily undone. The white church in America has suffered this crippling spiritual disease since before the founding of our country.

For more than two centuries, white men and women in the United States of America enslaved our black brothers and sisters. By 1860, the U.S. census counted 31 million people, almost 4 million of whom were enslaved. In other words, nearly 12% of the entire population of the United States of American lived under the brutal weight of slavery. It’s a sick and devastating irony that the Christian church in America not only accepted this horrific practice, but also developed doctrines to explicitly support and defend it. A classic pillar of the “Christian” proslavery argument states: “It is in the order of Providence that one man should be subservient to another.” Frederick Douglass, the famous abolitionist, denounced Southern Christianity, calling it “corrupt, slaveholding, women-whipping, cradle-plundering, partial and hypocritical Christianity of this land.” While White Southern Christianity was infected and corrupted through and through by these evil doctrines, the white church in the North spent 200 years accommodating their Southern brothers and absorbing a more subtle mentality of white supremacy. 1

In his famous speech, What to the Slave is the Fourth of July?, Douglass lamented about the Christian church in the North and South calling the church itself the “bulwark of American slavery”. He challenged Christian pastors throughout the nation saying they “have shamelessly given the sanction of religion and the Bible to the whole slave system.” In doing so, he charged them with preaching an abominable faith that “makes God a respecter of persons, denies His fatherhood over the race, and tramples in the dust the great truth of the brotherhood of man.”

The institution of slavery was ended violently, through our nation’s only civil war. But the mentality and the doctrines that permitted and supported it naturally did not die when Lee surrendered to Grant in 1865. The evil monster of white supremacy, which had become an active part of the daily life and even of the “Christian” faith of so many, still roamed wild, barely restrained by emancipation and madder than hell. It devised new ways to wreak havoc on people of color. It permeated the laws and the justice system and created a comprehensive code of legal and societal oppression known as Jim Crow laws.  

When I was a young boy in the 1970s, I didn’t grasp the recency of the Civil Rights Movement. I learned some things about it, but I never pondered the fact that Dr. King had been assassinated just two years before I was born. “Bloody Sunday” and King’s march from Selma occurred just 5 years before my birth. It turns out I was growing up in the immediate aftermath of the Civil Rights movement, and I didn’t even know it! My own journey underscores how oblivious most white people are to the near realities of racial injustice in our present and recent past. This lack of awareness afflicts the white Evangelical church and, coupled with a toxic allegiance to a political ideology, is part of our blindness to issues of race that continue today.  

Though I don’t know any Christians who would openly embrace the ideology of white supremacy, that doesn’t mean the mentality doesn’t continue to live in our hearts and find expression in our actions today. We didn’t mind putting a white nationalist in the White House. We adamantly deny the existence of systemic racism. We disparage black athletes who use their platform to call attention to racial injustice. According to many white Evangelicals, our first black president was a Muslim, a socialist, was going to take away our guns, hates America, and wasn’t a natural-born citizen. Many of us express a condescending view of black people as we dismiss their experiences and believe that they lack the intelligence or education to think for themselves. Some assert that our black brothers and sisters blindly follow political leaders who are just trying to make them dependent on the government. In white circles, we complain that black people would rather live on welfare than work for a living. When it’s just the good ‘ole boys, we compare one minority group to another, making judgments and generalizations about which one has a better work ethic and which group values the family more. We criticize the music, the wardrobe, the culture, the purchasing decisions, and the hairstyles of people of color. We sit in the seat of power, judgment, leadership, wealth, resources, education, and theological orthodoxy, enjoying prominence in every area of our society, and we are indignant if anyone dares to suggest that we set it up that way or that we receive any benefit from it that might be called “privilege.” At the same time, we’ll fight tooth and nail to keep from losing this position of privilege we deny we have. We refuse to affirm the value of black lives. And, we believe in our hearts that the reason black people are dying and being incarcerated in higher proportions has something to do with their inferior character. To top it off, we feel really great when we talk about “racial reconciliation” and “unity”, but we recoil at the idea of “racial justice”. White Church, I hate to break it to you- we still have a serious problem with white supremacy.

  1. Frederick Douglass: American Prophet, D.H. Dilbeck, The University of North Carolina Press, 2018, p.3

This is the second article in our Imago Dei series, addressing issues of racial justice. If you are challenged and want to learn more, we invite you to continue to follow along as we include different voices in the discussion over the next several weeks.