As pastor theologians, we can no longer afford to ignore the pain and suffering caused by systemic racism, particularly, anti-Blackness. The murders of Breonna Taylor, Ahmaud Arbery, and George Floyd, and the recent protests have made this abundantly clear. As those charged with leading the people of God and serving as theologians for the church, we have a responsibility to engage these issues with humility, compassion, grace, and truth. But I have found that many of us ask “what can I do?” The answers are many. But I want to offer a few pieces of advice for my fellow pastor theologians regarding how to enter into these conversations.
Listen
As pastor theologians, our business is words--we preach with them we teach with them, we disciple with them, and we write with them. But perhaps before we speak into issues of racial injustice, we need to listen carefully to those who are in pain. When Job went through his own tribulations, his friends came and grieved with him in silence for seven days. While we can certainly judge the wisdom in their eventual monologues, the practice of grieving with a loved one for an extended period of time can be fruitful. When we learn to listen well, our perspectives are critiqued, and we gain a better sense of how our own thoughts can serve either as balm over a wound, or as a knife through the heart. When we fail to listen well, we run the risk of saying things birthed out of our inexperience and ignorance that end up hurting others and damaging our witness. In the area of racial injustice, listen to brothers and sisters of color in your congregation and community, understand their trauma, and ultimately respect their voices in the matter. You may find yourself repenting of some things.
Read
As we listen, we must take the time to examine the kinds of texts and ideas with which we surround ourselves. By this I mean that we have a tendency to read and engage with the work of those with whom we agree. But I would challenge my fellow pastor theologians to examine the makeup of their bookshelves and see how many books by racially or ethnically minoritized scholars they have in our possession. Theological reflections from White evangelicals can be vastly different than that of brothers and sisters of color. The late James Cone highlights this disparity in his epic work, The Cross and the Lynching Tree. He writes, “White theologians in the past century have written thousands of books about Jesus’ cross without remarking on the analogy between the crucifixion of Jesus and the lynching of black people.”[1] For Cone, the White church “needed theologians to interpret the gospel in a way that would not require them to acknowledge white supremacy as America’s great sin.”[2] Evangelical theological reflection on the crucifixion usually takes the path of exploring various “theories” of the cross while ignoring the obvious parallels between the cross and race-based violence. Another example is how Loida Martell-Otero, a Latina theologian, suggests that it is a “disincarnate Christianity,” one that emphasizes abstract belief and individual salvation, “that allows its adherents to exploit the poor, ignore the suffering, and smugly await a heavenly reward at no cost to them.”[3 Again, when our experiences are rooted in privilege, our theology can fail to account for the realities of racism, poverty, and systemic discrimination.
Our social position inevitably reflects our theology; we cannot separate the two. Filling our theological diets with the works of racially minoritized pastors and theologians can assist us in garnering a broader sense of the gospel of Jesus Christ and better understand how marginalized folks theologize their experiences. To radically grow our perspective on racial issues in this nation, our reading agendas must include perspectives that don’t necessarily reflect our own experiences.
Speak
As we listen to and read the perspectives of brothers and sisters of color, we may be tempted to speak out, especially as our anger and sadness over the past and current racial climates of our nation overwhelm us. At a certain point, we must preach and lead our people during these times. But as we speak, we must avoid the temptation to center our own outrage and sadness. By this, I mean it is very easy for us to want to show people our own grief, sorrow, and anger, but in doing so, we unintentionally take away from the situation at hand. I have seen this firsthand, and I have spoken about this at length with many of my brothers and sisters of color. So-called “White allies” truly want to see change happen, but in some cases, they will draw attention to themselves, seeking to project an image of racial enlightenment to others without doing the hard work of institutional change. As pastors, we cannot afford to make our sense of racial progress the center of the conversation--we must condemn anti-Blackness, injustice, and oppression, liberally engage the Black and Brown theologians who are teaching us, challenge our people to respond with repentance and action.
Do
Soon, the outrage will die down. The media will move on to a different story. You will begin your new sermon series, and we will move on to different struggles. Do not allow the current season to be a piece of clothing you can take off as you please; Black folks and other folks of color don’t have that privilege. As we listen to brothers and sisters of color and read their perspectives, infuse those perspectives into your sermons throughout the year. Allow the theologians you are reading to reshape the way you read the struggles of the enslaved Israelites, the blind man, the Samaritan woman, and the Greek widows in Scripture. Find a way to regularly engage in racial justice conversations in your church and local community. Create space in your congregation to welcome and include everyone. Become a part of change efforts in your community.
I leave you with these words, traditionally attributed to John Wesley:
Do all the good you can,
By all the means you can,
In all the ways you can,
In all the places you can,
At all the times you can,
To all the people you can,
As long as ever you can.
This resource is part of the series More than Imago Dei: Theological Explorations on Race. Click here to explore more resources from this series.
Benjamin Espinoza is the Associate Vice President for Online Education and Assistant Professor of Practical Theology at Roberts Wesleyan College. He holds a PhD from Michigan State University. He is a member of the St. Peter Fellowship of the Center for Pastor Theologians.
Notes:
[1] James Cone, The Cross and the Lynching Tree (Maryknoll, NY: Orbis Books, 2012): 159.
[2] Ibid., 160.
[3] Loida Martell-Otero, “From Satas to Santas: Sobrajas No More,” in Latina Evangelicas: A Theological Survey from the Margins (Eugene, OR: Cascade, 2013): 49.
