by Jemar Tisby
One aspect of the civil rights movement that has remained critical is the role of people of faith. While it is true that the civil rights movement of the mid-twentieth century had a clearly church-based core of activists, Christians are still involved in today’s black freedom struggle. Leaders such as Brittany Packnett, Bryan Stephenson, and Bernice King often speak publicly about their faith. Pastors and laypeople alike populate the marches and fill the churches where rallies still take place. The question is whether the broader American church will recognize and participate in today’s civil rights movement.
The movement of the twenty-first century is happening along several vectors. First, mass incarceration and criminal justice reform have become priorities for thousands of Americans. The entrance to the Legacy Museum: From Enslavement to Mass Incarceration, which opened in 2018 in Montgomery, Alabama, has the words slavery evolved at the beginning of an exhibit showing how slavery morphed into modern-day mass incarceration. Spurred by police-related shootings of unarmed black people, more citizens have become aware of the skyrocketing levels of incarceration among black and brown people. New scholarships, organizations, and movements have cropped up to combat overcriminalization.
Another aspect of today’s civil rights movement attempts to combat ongoing segregation. Despite the Brown v. Board of Education ruling, schools and residential areas remain as segregated as ever, sometimes even more so. Nikole Hannah-Jones, an award-winning investigative journalist, has committed her research to exploring segregation in public education. She finds that “most black and Latino students today are segregated by both race and class, a combination that wreaks havoc on the learning environment.”21 Christians need to pay attention to how their educational choices for their own children reinforce racial and economic segregation in schools.
The new civil rights movement continues to fight for voting rights for poor people and racial minorities. In 2013, a five to four vote in the Supreme Court struck down a key component of the 1965 Voting Rights Act. The component stipulated that certain states that had historically practiced voter suppression had to request federal permission to change their state voting laws. Many saw the court’s ruling as a step back toward the days of Jim Crow when white supremacists routinely barred black people and others from their right to exercise the vote. Strict voter identification laws, hyperpartisan gerrymandering, and the lifetime loss of voting privileges for the formerly incarcerated have all become targets of renewed attention and cries for reform. Christians, whether Republican or Democrat, should be able to agree on ways to ensure a truly democratic political process and work together for change.
Many Christians today say they would have been active participants in the civil rights movement fifty years ago. Now, in the midst of a new civil rights movement, is their chance to prove it.
PUBLICLY DENOUNCE RACISM
Public offense calls for public opposition. Too many Christian leaders refuse to use their platforms to publicly speak against racism. Those who do tend to speak in generalities. “Racism is wrong,” they say, but they refrain from naming individuals or situations in which racism is at play. Moreover, they use euphemisms like “racial tension” or “racially charged” instead of simply naming words or actions “racist.” More Christians, particularly people with large platforms, must be willing to take the criticism that comes with taking a prominent stance against bigotry. The effort to exercise due diligence and gather accurate information may delay a response, but it should not preclude one. In addition, the reticence to call out specific sins specifically poses a problem. If a particular person has done something that violates the spirit of racial equality, then that person should be cited no matter how famous that person is. Confronting the shortcomings of powerful and respected people has never been easy, but it has always been necessary.
Publicly denouncing racism should also include disassociating with racists. If someone has been called out for racism, and they refuse to accept responsibility for the harm they caused—whatever their intent—then that person should not enjoy continued credibility and attention. Refuse to go to their conferences, buy their books, quote them on social media, or share their work. All of this can be done without rancor but with conviction.
START A CIVIL RIGHTS MOVEMENT . . . TOWARD THE CHURCH
Large segments of the American church have lost all moral authority to speak prophetically against racism because they continue to practice it. This tends to happen in subtle ways—sharing the works of people who practiced slavery without any context or criticism; continually hosting panels, conferences, and other events that feature only white men; Christian schools making peace with the presence of buildings named after racists or featuring their statues on campus grounds; harboring an uncritical opinion that Republicans represent the “Christian political party” in spite of increasingly overt racist rhetoric from the party’s elected officials and other leaders. The list goes on.
In light of ongoing complicity with racism in the church, what is to be done? Shall we hold another conference? Form another panel? Write another book like this one? At what point will Christians who are fed up with racism take more decisive action?
Perhaps the American church should be the object of a mass movement for justice. Maybe a mass march for racial justice in our congregations is called for. Or Christians could conduct pray-ins in the administrative offices of Christian organizations and institutions that refuse to take meaningful action to eliminate racism. Additionally, Christ followers could boycott specific events, publications, or organizations until they concede to demands for a more racially inclusive environment.
Conducting nonviolent direct action protests toward other Christians and their institutions may seem offensive to some. They may decry such activism as divisive, disrespectful of the law, and militant. Those objections echo the ones antiracist activists have heard throughout American history. Change must come to the American church. It is up to Christians who comprise the church to end compromise with racism within the church.
FAITH WITHOUT WORKS IS DEAD
This much is clear—the American church has compromised with racism. Countless Christians have ignored, obscured, or misunderstood this history. But the excuses are gone. The information cannot be hidden. The only question that remains is what the church will do now that its complicity in racism has been exposed.
In the Bible, James 4:17 says, “If anyone, then, knows the good they ought to do and doesn’t do it, it is sin for them.” This chapter has given some suggestions for what to do about racism in the church. The church today must practice the good that ought to be done. To look at this history and then refuse to act only perpetuates racist patterns. It is time for the church to stand against racism and compromise no longer.
Conclusion
BE STRONG AND COURAGEOUS
After Moses died, God called Joshua to lead the people of Israel into the promised land. Joshua understandably experienced trepidation at the prospect of leading a throng of people into a land filled with enemies and succeeding Moses, the leader of Israel who spoke face-to-face with God. Sensing the fear that threatened to paralyze Joshua, God exhorted him. Three times in the first nine verses of the book of Joshua, God tells Joshua to be strong and courageous (Josh. 1: 6–7, 9). The words “be strong and courageous” came in the form of a command, not a suggestion. In the face of the most difficult role of his life, God ordered Joshua to have strength and courage so that Joshua could faithfully execute his calling. In much the same way, the church today must receive God’s command to show strength and courage to combat racism.
When it comes to racism, the American church does not have a “how to” problem but a “want to” problem. Given ten minutes, a pen, and paper, most American Christians could come up with a list of ways to increase racial equity in our congregations and communities. We know that we need a more diverse leadership, that we should develop relationships across racial and ethnic lines, that people who continue to peddle prejud
ice should be opposed. Though solutions abound, racism remains. In my experience of talking to hundreds of Christians—black and white, men and women, young and old—I have observed one primary reason more of us do not exhibit the strength and courage required to root out racism: fear.
The second chapter of Galatians illustrates how fear can sabotage interracial solidarity. The apostle Peter had been eating with the gentiles, an act forbidden by Old Testament Jewish law. Christ had broken down the “dividing wall of hostility” between Jew and gentile (Eph. 2:14). Yet the old prejudices remained. At a certain point, Peter withdrew from fellowship with the gentiles, and the Bible explains why. A certain group from James came to meet Peter, and “he began to draw back and separate himself from the Gentiles because he was afraid of those who belonged to the circumcision group” (Gal. 2:12). There it is again. Fear. Paul withdrew from the gentiles because he feared human beings more than the Lord who sits on high.
I am convinced that a fear of other people—what they will say, think, and do if we stand against racism—holds the church back from more aggressive action to bring about justice. Indifference certainly plays a role. Apathy has its part. But when confronted with a choice to oppose racism or to acquiesce to business as usual, people of God too often shrink back. This goes for Christians of all colors. Even minorities fear causing too much of a stir over racism for fear they will lose their job, money, status, or opportunities (and with good reason!). Fear affects us all.
Another type of fear that may affect some of us is the fear of getting it wrong. We worry that we do not know enough yet, that our good intentions may have unintended negative consequences, or that the very people we seek to serve will rebuke us for our ignorance or missteps. I cannot say this will not happen. Standing for racial justice involves risk. But effective advocacy is a skill just like any other, and skills can be learned. Ultimately, though, you cannot read your way, listen your way, or watch your way into skillful advocacy. At some point you must act. Go forth not in fear but in faith that even your mistakes will increase your capacity to disrupt racism.
As the American church considers facing racism, we must remember that God’s command for Joshua to be strong and courageous also came with a promise. “Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the LORD your God will be with you wherever you go” (Josh. 1:9). The guarantee that God’s people can do what God commands is the promise of God’s presence. For Christians God’s promise is a person—Jesus Christ. Immanuel, which means “God with us,” took on flesh to make God’s presence real among us.
Jesus crossed every barrier between people, including the greatest barrier of all—the division between God and humankind. He is our peace, and because of his life, death, resurrection, and coming return, those who believe in Jesus not only have God’s presence with us but in us through the Holy Spirit. Therefore, we have the power, through God, to leave behind the compromised Christianity that makes its peace with racism and to live out Christ’s call to a courageous faith. The time for the American church’s complicity in racism has long past. It is time to cancel compromise. It is time to practice courageous Christianity.
ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
One of the best reasons to write a book is that it gives you an opportunity to thank the many people who have positively influenced your life and work. In this area, I have an embarrassment of riches.
First, it is a privilege to thank my wife, Janeé. Her patience and diligent work on behalf of our family created the space for me to undertake this project, and along the way she endured far too many of my rants about racism and the church. My little boy kept me grounded and reminded me that no matter how significant it may seem to write a book, it’s nothing if you can’t do a backflip on the trampoline. My family has been there for me when I was an even more awkward and undeveloped person than I am now. I thank my brother and sister, who never let me forget that I am both the youngest sibling and abundantly loved. I offer my eternal appreciation to my parents, Jim and Sharese, who both instilled in me the value of education and a love of learning. Their simple message, “We’re proud of you,” made me feel invincible.
I thank Christina, Ekemini, and Tyler, whose love, humor, empathy, and intelligence kept me grounded and motivated in the midst of nonstop brokenness in the world. This book was also made possible by The Witness and Pass the Mic team—although we are colleagues, more than that, we are a community. It is in large part due to my friend Otis Pickett that I discovered how powerful the past can be in changing the present. His knowledge of history, love of people, and love for the church gave me a vision for advocacy through education. I thank Robby Luckett, whose class on the New South at Jackson State University introduced me to the academic study of history at the graduate level and helped spur me on to doctoral studies. I have learned so much from my professors, especially Dr. Shennette Garrett-Scott, who educated me and encouraged me to pursue not just an education but a mission. The team at Zondervan gave me the chance to write my first book, and their insights, editing, and encouragement made this an inestimably better project and an incredibly positive experience. Heath Carter made time to give feedback from a historian’s perspective and helped me add essential information to provide a more robust narrative. I am also indebted to the meticulous work of dozens of historians, whose endless hours in archives and grueling journey from concept to manuscript provided much of the material for this book.
Finally, I strive to be part of the centuries-long legacy of black Christians who put their faith in action in the cause of freedom. Their joyful pursuit of justice has helped provide a template for me as we continue the stride toward freedom.
NOTES
CHAPTER 1: THE COLOR OF COMPROMISE
1. Taylor Branch, Parting the Waters: The King Years, 1954–1963 (New York: Simon & Schuster, 1998), 890.
2. Diane McWhorter, Carry Me Home: Birmingham, Alabama; The Climactic Battle of the Civil Rights Revolution (New York: Simon & Schuster, 2000), 525–27.
3. United Press International, “Six Dead After Church Bombing,” Washington Post, September 16, 1963.
4. The funeral was for three of the four girls killed in the bombing. Carole Robertson’s service had been held the previous day at St. John’s Missionary Baptist Church at the request of her mother. See Branch, Parting the Waters, 892.
5. Andrew Cohen, “The Speech That Shocked Birmingham the Day after the Church Bombing,” The Atlantic, September 13, 2013, https://www.theatlantic.com/national/archive/2013/09/the-speech-that-shocked-birmingham-the-day-after-the-church-bombing/279565/.
6. Cohen, “The Speech That Shocked Birmingham.”
7. Cohen, “The Speech That Shocked Birmingham.”
8. Cohen, “The Speech That Shocked Birmingham.”
9. Martin Luther King Jr., “Letter from a Birmingham Jail,” April 16, 1963.
10. Beverly Daniel Tatum, Why Are All the Black Kids Sitting Together in the Cafeteria? And Other Conversations About Race (New York: Basic Books, 1997).
11. Carolyn Renée DuPont, Mississippi Praying: Southern White Evangelicals and the Civil Rights Movement (New York: New York University Press, 2013), 5.
12. As a survey, The Color of Compromise relies mainly on secondary literature. I am indebted to the dozens of historians whose work I cite in this book and many others who have labored countless hours in archives and offices writing invaluable narratives of the past.
13. I acknowledge that this is a more “top down” approach to history rather than a “bottom up” approach. My hope is that nonhistorians and people new to the history of race in the American church might understand an outline of major events and people, which then can lead to a more detailed study. This is not an academic history text. I avoided historiographical discussions in the main body of the book, but I have included the occasional counterpoint or further context of interest to historians in various footnotes.
14. See Nancy Maclean, Freedom Is Not Enough: The Opening of the American Workplace (Cambridge, MA:
Harvard University Press, 2006).
15. King, “Letter from a Birmingham Jail.”
16. David Masci, “Five Facts about the Religious Lives of African Americans,” Pew Research Center, February 7, 2018, http://www.pewresearch.org/fact-tank/2018/02/07/5-facts-about-the-religious-lives-of-african-americans/.
17. See, for example, Austin Channing Brown, I’m Still Here: Black Dignity in a World Made for Whiteness (New York: Convergent, 2018); Christena Cleveland, Disunity in Christ: Uncovering the Hidden Forces that Keep Us Apart (Downers Grove, IL: Intervarsity Press, 2013); Christopher S. Collins and Alexander Jun, White Out: Understanding White Privilege and Dominance in the Modern Age (New York: Peter Lang, 2017); and Ijeoma Oluo, So You Want to Talk about Race (New York: Seal, 2018).
CHAPTER 2: MAKING RACE IN THE COLONIAL ERA
1. The terms Native American, American Indian, and indigenous find various usage in contemporary thought and literature. To my knowledge, no consensus has been reached. Many now prefer to employ tribe names to resist the homogenizing effects of exogenous terms.
