by Jemar Tisby
TAKE DOWN CONFEDERATE MONUMENTS
More than 150 years after Union and Confederate forces laid down their guns, America is still fighting the Civil War. Instead of firing canons and muskets, the combatants fire off blog posts and petitions to either take down or preserve monuments to the Confederacy. If the American church wants to make a clear break with the racial compromise that has characterized its past, then believers must agree that it is time to take down the Confederate monuments.
The white supremacist “Unite the Right” rally in Charlottesville, Virginia, in 2017 brought back memories of similar events throughout US history, a past that many thought the nation had moved beyond. Photos of Dylan Roof, the white man who killed nine black churchgoers at Mother Emanuel Church in Charleston, posing with a Confederate flag also helped ignite an energetic debate about what to do with Confederate monuments, statues, and symbols. The statues and flags stand both as a message that America is the “white man’s country” and as a way to redeem the Confederacy in the eyes of southerners and the nation.
Removing Confederate statues and symbols from public places will not eradicate racism. Indeed, even some black people express indifference at the endeavor. But statues and symbols are supposed to represent the community. Symbols of the Confederacy only represent a part of the community, a part that stood for the preservation of slavery. Those who declare that Confederate symbols represent “heritage not hate” must recognize that part of that heritage was hate in the form of slavery and white supremacy.
Given the racist roots of Confederate iconography in public places, Christians should stand against their continued presence as an act of racial solidarity. One Christian woman, Bree Newsome, illustrated her opposition in dramatic fashion and cut through the stalling tactics of politicians by climbing a flagpole in front of the state house in South Carolina and removing the Confederate flag. Holding the flag aloft she declared, “You come against me with hatred, oppression, and violence. I come against you in the name of God. This flag comes down today.”14 In the name of God, will other Christians stand against the visible symbols of racism promoted in America’s public places?
LEARN FROM THE BLACK CHURCH
Part of the pernicious effects of white supremacy in the church has been the devaluing of black theology—the biblical teachings that arise from and are informed by the experience of racial suffering, oppression, and perseverance by black people in America. In many white Christian contexts, theology produced by racial minorities comes with an assumption of heresy and heterodoxy. The implicit message from many conservative white pastors and professors is that black Christians have theological integrity to the degree they adopt the teachings that come from approved European and white American sources. This should not be so. Rather, the body of believers should commit themselves to valuing and learning from the distinct contributions that come from marginalized groups such as black people in America.
For example, the American church can learn from the black church what it means to lament. Many church traditions have allowed triumphalism to creep into the pulpit and the pews. Just as citizens can sometimes presume the ascendancy and inevitability of American economic and global power, so the church can presume its own favor and privilege by imagining itself as God’s chosen nation and people. Soong-Chan Rah studied popular Christians songs and found that most of them focus on victory and joy.15 This canon of sacred songs, however, exhibits a dearth of lament and sorrow. Much of Christian history has been characterized by persecution and rejection, and black Christians intimately and experientially know the reality of ongoing suffering that comes from the bigotry of others and by no fault of their own. In the midst of marginalization, they have learned how to dwell with sadness and transform it into strength.
The musical genre of the Negro spiritual exemplifies the ability of black Christians to theologize their suffering in song. They moaned, “Hold on just a little while longer,” in order to make it through one more day. They knew that earth was not their only stop, and they welcomed the “sweet chariot coming forth to carry me home.” The Negro spiritual put black lamentations into songs that soared upward as prayers for God to save them and grant them the perseverance to exist and resist. Through their understanding of Scripture, black Christians sang, “His eye is on the sparrow, and I know he watches me.” They looked to the book of Exodus and saw God saving the Israelites from slavery. In the white slaveowners they saw “old Pharaoh” and knew they could pray, “Let my people go.” They saw Daniel saved from the fiery furnace and asked, “Didn’t my Lord deliver Daniel? Then why not every man?” Black people have somehow found a way to flourish because of faith. It is a faith that is vibrant and still inspires black Christians to endure and struggle against present-day forms of racism. The entire church can learn from believers who have suffered yet still hold onto God’s unchanging hand.
Black theology can teach the American church not just how to lament but how to rejoice as well. The exuberant vocal and bodily expressions common in much of black worship represent a faith that celebrates God’s goodness in equal measure with lament over humanity’s sinfulness. Those who have suffered much find much joy in God’s salvation. After laboring all week under the dehumanizing conditions of slavery, black Christians celebrated on Sunday. They thanked God for giving them life and breath and the full functioning of their faculties. They worshiped God as an outlet for the creativity and vitality that had been suppressed all week. Shouts of “Amen” and “Hallelujah” punctuated every part of the service. Generations of black Christians have inherited a tradition of unashamed praise for God. The rest of American churches may well discover a new sense of God’s goodness when they engage their full selves in worship.
The pleasant byproduct of learning theology from the black church is that some of the assumptions of suspicion will start to fall away. Christians will learn that people from different nations and ethnicities have dwelled in different contexts that cause them to approach the Bible with different questions and emphases. As the church learns to value the unique applications of eternal biblical principles across people groups, it will grasp more of God’s truth than ever before.
START A NEW SEMINARY
Existing seminaries, especially theologically conservative ones, often lack the institutional knowledge to properly train Christians for effective ministry in an increasingly pluralistic and diverse society. While many schools have made admirable efforts to change this reality—offering full-ride scholarships for minorities, adjusting some course offerings and required readings to reflect more diversity, adding black faculty and staff—it simply may not be possible to tweak existing structures enough to adequately educate their students in a culturally responsive way. New seminaries that have incorporated antiracist ideas from their inception may be required. This is not to say that racially responsive seminaries do not already exist, just that we need more of them.
A new seminary would begin with a diverse Board of Trustees, faculty, and staff. Rather than trying to add diversity, racial and ethnic variety would be there from the start. This team would compose the curriculum in such a way that students gain exposure to a slate of theologians, both male and female, from all kinds of races and nationalities. The courses and readings would incorporate themes of justice, not simply focusing on conversion and relegating issues of culture and context exclusively to “missions” classes. Courses would have a renewed focus on theological anthropology, and professors would dedicate more of their time to researching and teaching new applications of the image of God doctrine. History would form a critical part of the curriculum with entire courses dedicated to black history in theological context. The variety of representation among the visible leaders of the institution and in the curriculum would then make it easier to recruit a diverse student body.
The delivery method of education would be sensitive to the needs of black students, who often work bivocationally as pastors and are only available to take classes on nights and we
ekends. Classroom content would come through intensive weekend, evening, or online courses. A structured internship and mentoring component in churches and other ministries would replace the “practical theology” classes many seminaries now require. Critically, this seminary would need endowment and large upfront contributions to lower the cost of tuition for the students, many of whom may come from lower income backgrounds.
A new seminary would present the opportunity to embed racial equality into the identity of the institution. Unfortunately, many conservative Christian schools have existed with racially insensitive policies and cultural myopia for so long that substantive changes may take generations to realize, if they can occur at all. Swaying donors, alumni, faculty, staff, and current students may cause even the most impassioned reformer to give up. Instead of expending valuable energy transforming a school whose personnel may resist the very idea of antiracism, that energy could go toward starting a new seminary that is already racially aware and responsive.
HOST FREEDOM SCHOOLS AND PILGRIMAGES
Education must lead to liberation. The acquisition of knowledge should not result only in personal enlightenment but also the alleviation of oppression. Freedom schools and pilgrimages would employ experiential education to bend minds and hearts toward compassion and activism.
In the 1960s, activists started Freedom Schools to teach people at the grassroots level about civil rights and methods of protesting for change. Freedom Schools in the new millennium would have a similar purpose. In-depth teaching about America’s racial history would reveal the ways racism has operated and changed over time. These lessons would go deeper than the simplistic narratives many textbooks and schools teach. They would include lessons about nations in Africa and their achievements because black history did not start with slavery. At the same time, in the North American context, Freedom Schools would describe the daily dehumanization of slavery, the terror of lynching, and the strength and limitations of previous freedom movements.
New Freedom Schools would also teach everyday Christians how to get involved in activism. They would discuss current systemic injustices such as mass incarceration, police brutality, underfunded schools, and healthcare inequality. But they would go further. Freedom Schools would also highlight organizations that are already doing the work of reform. They would bring in speakers and analyze case studies for methods that work in bringing about justice. Christians would be encouraged to get involved in the current civil rights movement whenever and however they can—as marchers, writers, artists, financial contributors. Some motivated and resourceful individuals may even start their own new organizations and groups to join the movement for justice and freedom.
These schools would be geared primarily toward adults, but youth curricula could be developed as well. Attendees would come for a series of workshop sessions over the course of a few days or a week. By the end they will have gained valuable information to equip them for effective antiracist action. The Freedom School experience could be augmented by partnerships with colleges, universities, and seminaries to earn classroom credit. This education could also be coupled with some sort of organizational certification that attests to the participants’ skills to lead racial justice efforts in a Christian organization or church. This is not a brand-new idea. What might be different from similar programs is the explicit effort to recruit Christians from conservative theological traditions into the schools.
Pilgrimages serve as another method of transformative education. Reading books and listening to presentations serve a purpose, but they cannot replicate the experience of visiting the sites and seeing the places where historical events happened. Christians should visit Emanuel AME Church in Charleston and touch the white walls that have stood for decades and seem to breathe with life. They should travel to the National Civil Rights Museum in Memphis and see the wreath hung on the balcony of the Lorraine Motel in the exact spot where Martin Luther King Jr. stood when an assassin’s bullet stole his life. Christians should look into the history of their communities to explore significant sites to develop an appreciation for the black past and present that exists in their own vicinity.16
Pilgrimages would take place over the course of several days or weeks. Such journeys would be appropriate for all kinds of people, including Bible study groups, the staffs of Christian ministries, pastors, teachers, professors, and laypeople in the church. Many pilgrimages could explore several sites in one journey. This is not a sightseeing excursion though. Pilgrimages are spiritual ventures that challenge the participants to make sense of their surroundings and what they are learning from a spiritual standpoint. They include prayer, journaling, Scripture readings, and humble listening to individuals who have experienced suffering or who have conducted in-depth research on relevant topics. A pilgrimage makes abstract concepts of racism real through physical, sensible encounters that evoke visceral and emotional responses. The result of such pilgrimages would be the kind of transformative encounter that leads to an ongoing commitment to working against racism in all its forms.
MAKE JUNETEENTH A NATIONAL HOLIDAY
The demise of what many have called America’s “original sin” would seem to be a likely candidate for frequent, even annual, commemoration nationwide. The moment when millions of black people finally gained the liberation they had been fighting for since at least 1619 deserves space in the calendar to help people remember who America truly is and how much effort it takes to overcome the racism that often characterizes life in this nation. At present, the most logical occasion to mark the abolition of slavery, Juneteenth, is marked at the state but not the national level.
Juneteenth, a mash-up of the words June and nineteenth, remembers the day in 1865 when slaves in Texas finally learned about their emancipation. It is the oldest-known celebration of black freedom from slavery. While over forty states currently recognize Juneteenth as a state holiday or observance, it should become a national one.
Making Juneteenth a national holiday would serve several purposes. First, it would highlight freedom. While Confederate monuments should come down, that’s only part of what healing from the racial wounds of slavery and racism entails. Positive reminders of the struggle for freedom must be created. Second, it would commemorate one of the most important historical events in US history. The Emancipation Proclamation opened the way for further legislation designed to grant black people their civil and human rights such as the thirteenth, fourteenth, and fifteenth amendments. Emancipation is a singular moment in US history, and making Juneteenth a national holiday would help solidify the reality that black history is American history. Third, celebrating Juneteenth as a national holiday would remind us how far we’ve come and how far we have left to go. This commemoration would both amplify the agency of black people in securing the end of race-based chattel slavery while also motivating present-day activism for securing the full independence and equality of all people.
Full freedom has not been achieved for all Americans. Too many people still struggle to break all kinds of gender, racial, ethnic, and economic bonds. The fight for the full equality and freedom of all Americans persists. The time is now and long overdue for the nation to memorialize Juneteenth as a day that marks liberty as both a reality and an aspiration.17
PARTICIPATE IN THE MODERN-DAY CIVIL RIGHTS MOVEMENT
Reverend William J. Barber Jr., a pastor and activist from North Carolina, has called for a third reconstruction. The first reconstruction occurred immediately after the Civil War when newly freed slaves joined in a flowering of black political, economic, and social participation. The second reconstruction happened during the civil rights movement of the 1950s and 1960s when activists assailed the stronghold of Jim Crow segregation. The third reconstruction is happening right now.
Careful observers agree that the nation is in the midst of another wave of the civil rights movement. People across the nation from all kinds of backgrounds increasingly recognize entrenched injustice and are mobilizing for change. Pe
ople are marching in the streets. They are staging sit-ins in state capitols and allowing themselves to be arrested for nonviolent civil disobedience. New organizations have formed to combat specific forms of oppression and recruit others to their cause. The national news reports daily on the individual and public outcry about issues such as the poisoned water in Flint, Michigan, the separation of immigrant children from their parents, and the racism still present in politics as well as business, entertainment, and the church.
Some may have missed the fact that a civil rights movement is afoot. Part of the reason is that the modern movement looks different. Although male pastors garnered most of the media attention during the civil rights movement of the twentieth century, women have always been an indispensable force in resistance movements. This fact is demonstrated in the modern-day freedom struggle through the continued leadership of dynamic women such as Kimberly Bryant who started “Black Girls Code” to give young girls the opportunity to learn technical skills and computer programming.18 Erica Garner, the daughter of Eric Garner, whose father’s death at the hands of police sparked the #Icantbreathe hashtag, became an advocate for police reform until her death in 2017 at the age of twenty-seven.19 Tarana Burke founded the #MeToo movement to advocate for the dignity of sexual abuse survivors, especially black women.20
