A lightly edited version of a talk I gave at a conference at Progressive Baptist Church here in Chicago.

On a November Sunday in 1898, the Rev. Francis J. Grimke stood before his congregation at the Fifteenth Street Presbyterian Church in Washington D. C. Rev. Grimke had been born into slavery in South Carolina, the son of a white enslaver and an enslaved mother of African descent. How he traveled from bondage on a plantation to self-emancipating himself to studying in freedmen’s schools to attending Princeton Seminary to leading one of the capitol’s most well-known Black congregations is a fascinating story for another day.

As Grimke made his way to the pulpit that autumn day, the Civil War had been over for 30 years. More pressing for Grimke and his church was the fact that the federal government’s southern reconstruction efforts had been halted a mere 12 years after the war’s end and the grotesque impacts of that cowardly decision were everywhere to be seen, particularly in the white supremacist terror which manifested in lynching. Over four thousand of these deadly acts of white power have been documented from Reconstruction through 1950.

On this Sunday, standing before his people, Grimke was thinking about countless white people who enabled and oftentimes led the mobocracy terrorizing Black people. He was also thinking about their pastors.

Another discouraging circumstance is to be found in the fact that the pulpits of the land are silent on these great wrongs. The ministers fear to offend those to whom they minister. We hear a great deal from their pulpits about suppressing the liquor traffic, about gambling, about Sabbath desecration, and about the suffering Armenians, and about polygamy in Utah when that question was up, and the Louisiana lottery. They are eloquent in their appeals to wipe out these great wrongs, but when it comes to Southern brutality, to the killing of Negroes and despoiling them of their civil and political rights, they are, to borrow an expression from Isaiah, ‘dumb dogs that cannot bark.’

The question I have been assigned to consider is this, “Where has the white church been?” Rev. Grimke reminds us that ours is not the first generation to grapple with the failure of most white Christians to join our sisters and brothers in the quest for justice. The Rev. Dr. King exposed this failure from a Birmingham jail in 1963. “We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people.” Writing about the scourge of lynching in 1892, Ida B. Wells wrote that white Christians “heard of this awful affair and read of its details and neither press nor pulpit gave the matter more than a passing comment.” Years earlier, reflecting on the nation’s slaveholding economy, Well’s mentor and friend Frederick Douglass stared white Christianity’s hypocrisy in the face.  

I can see no reason, but the most deceitful one, for calling the religion of this land Christianity… I am filled with unutterable loathing when I contemplate the religious pomp and show, together with the horrible inconsistencies, which everywhere surround me. We have men-stealers for ministers, women-whippers for missionaries, and cradle-plunderers for church members.

Where was the white church when the first kidnapped and enslaved Africans arrived on these shores 400 years ago? Where was the white church when the early colonists elevated pseudo-scientific racial theories over Christian baptism in order to justify perpetual bondage? Where was the white church when the dehumanization of Indigenous people and people of African descent was codified in our founding documents? Indeed, I could use the remainder of my time simply posing this question to one instance of our history after another. With few exceptions, the answer to this perennially relevant question is this: Not only was the white church present at each moment of racial injustice, but the white church has also been one of the primary enablers of that same racial injustice. In fact, it is impossible to honestly account for our legacy of systemic racism and white supremacy without also accounting for the ungodly complicity of the white church.

With the balance of my time, I want to consider the role of the white church in the struggle for justice through four propositions with help from the Apostle Paul in Romans 12. 1) There is a racialized pattern to American society; 2) White American Christians have largely conformed to this pattern; 3) White Christianity’s conforming complicity was not inevitable; and 4) Given our conformity, white Christians must be discipled to resist the racialized pattern in order to pursue true solidarity. To conclude I will suggest a final proposition.

There is a racialized pattern to American society.

In Romans 12:1-2, Paul wrote, “I appeal to you therefore, brothers and sisters, on the basis of God’s mercy, to present your bodies as a living sacrifice, holy and acceptable to God, which is your reasonable act of worship. Do not be conformed to this age, but be transformed by the renewing of the mind, so that you may discern what is the will of God—what is good and acceptable and perfect.”

The language reflects a particular place and time when certain cultural norms appear natural, neutral, and normal. Paul tells the church that they are not to conform to the age or, in another translation, the pattern of this world.

One of the patterns in this country is how the logic of race has infected our society, creating a racialized society. Sociologists define a racialized society as one “wherein race matters profoundly for differences in life experiences, life opportunities, and social relationships.”(Michael Emerson and Christian Smith, Divided by Faith) We can predict the likelihood of death during childbirth,life expectancy, proximity to violence, proximity to pollution, and access to generational wealth all through the lens of our racialized society.

There is a racialized pattern to American society. Our nation cannot be understood only through a racialized lens, but any understanding of this nation which doesn’t account for the racialized spirit of the age grossly misunderstands life in this particular place.

White American Christians have largely conformed to this pattern.

Rev. Grimke lamented the silence from white pulpits. Rev. Dr. King decried the same. While traveling in the UK to rally support for the anti-lynching movement, Ida B. Wells was asked by a journalist what the internationally renowned American evangelist Dwight L. Moody had done to support the cause. Wells wrote, “I answered – nothing. That Mr. Moody had never said a word against lynching in any of his trips to the South, or in the North either, so far as was known.”

From this nation’s origins to today, Christians of color and Black Christians particularly, have pointed out white Christianity’s tendency to conform to patterns of racial supremacy and domination.Earlier this month, Rev. Dr. Charlie Dates wrote an op-ed directed to white Christians which said, in part, “We are not your rhetorical whipping boy, trotted out for another session of mockery that serves your political ends. We are not your minstrel show, played on repeat on your news channels as a way to reinforce tropes about the inherent dangerousness of Black people. We see what you are doing and name it for what it is: racism.”

This deadly, persistent acquiescence to the racialized status quo led many Christians of color to assume that white Christians were not actually followers of the Jesus found in Scripture. In his introduction to one of Ida B. Wells’ investigations into lynching, Frederick Douglass wrote,

If American conscience were only half alive, if the American church and clergy were only half christianized, if American moral sensibility were not hardened by persistent infliction of outrage and crime against colored people, a scream of horror, shame and indignation would rise to Heaven wherever your pamphlet shall be read.

How else to explain the racial exclusion common in white churches? The white politicians who claimed allegiance to Jesus while advocating policies of segregation and disenfranchisement? The spectacle lynchings advertised and timed to commence after white pastors finished their benedictions? Even today, white Christians are more prone to racialized nationalism, less open to immigrants and refugees, more fearful of racial/ethnic diversity, and more likely to believe that white people face discrimination.White American Christians have largely conformed to the racialized pattern of our society.

White Christianity’s conforming complicity was not inevitable.

The ubiquity of the racial hierarchy and the totality of the white Church’s complicity could lead us to believe that White Christianity’s compromised witness was a foregone conclusion. But there was no predetermined script which forced white Christians to betray our faith, dehumanize our sisters and brothers, and profane the name of our Lord who commanded us to love one another.

Sarah Grimke and her sister Angelina were born into a slave-holding family on a plantation in South Carolina at the turn of the 19th century.When she was 26, Sarah traveled to Philadelphia where she met some Quakers and became acquainted with abolition through their theological lens. She brought her new biblical convictions home to Charleston where her younger sister soon adopted her anti-slavery position.

Despite their place within a patriarchal, enslaving society, the Grimke sisters began writing and speaking against slavery. When they discovered that Francis J. Grimke – the eventual Rev. Grimke who we heard from earlier – was their half-brother, they arranged for him to come north and covered his educational expenses.

In 1836 Sarah wrote an open letter entitled “An Epistle to the Clergy of the Southern States.” In it she wrote about the enslaving economy.

Nay, we not only sustain this temple of Moloch; but with impious lips consecrate it to the Most High God; and call upon Jehovah himself to sanctify our sins by the presence of his Shekinah.  She went on to say, If ever there was a time when the Church of Christ was called upon to make an aggressive movement on the kingdom of darkness, this is the time.

The courageous and costly witness of the Grimke sisters remind us that white Christian complicity with the racialized spirit of the age was not and is not inevitable.This is important because until those of us who are white confess our agency within this sinful society, we will never be able to embrace the gift of repentance.

In her letter to the clergy, Sarah wrote about this gift. “Jehovah is calling to us as he did to Job out of the whirlwind, and every blast bears on its wings the sound, Repent! Repent!”

The pattern of this world is powerful; the spirit of the age works to make us believe that the status quo is immovable, that we cannot cut across the grooves and channels chiseled into social life by generations of hierarchy and oppression. It’s a lie. Conforming complicity with sin is never inevitable. The patterns of this world are trouble, but take heart, Jesus has overcome even the troubling patterns of this world!

Given our conformity, white Christians must be discipled to resist the racialized pattern in order to pursue solidarity with the Body of Christ.

The good news is that white Christians do not have to conform to the wicked patterns of this racialized society. The bad news is that generations of white churches have abandoned their members to the deforming patterns of this age. We have abdicated our responsibility to disciple white Christians away from racism.

If this is right, then the way forward is discipleship. To do this, we must reimagine our liturgies to disciple white people into solidarity with the Body of Christ. No one-time sermon series or book study can do this work. This is about life-long discipleship. We must ask whether people are finding more in common with their diverse sisters and brothers than they are with those who share their race but not their faith.

Take the liturgical practice of Holy Communion as an example. In 1 Corinthians 11, Paul admonishes the Corinthian church because “there are divisions among you.” These divisions fell along the socioeconomic patterns of Greco-Roman life: the poor came to Holy Communion hungry while the wealthy came tipsy. In other words, they brought the societal status quo to church with them. They left the spirit of the age undisturbed.

As a result of their conformity, Paul says, “it is not the Lord’s Supper you eat.” Their tacit acceptance of the status quo so thoroughly corrupted their worship that the elements could no longer be said to be the Eucharist.

Paul goes on to say, given the Corinthians’ tendency to slip into the sinful patterns of their society, that each member of the church ought to examine themselves before eating the bread and drinking the cup. Paul’s exhortation is to consider how we have succumbed to the ungodly norms of our society which have fooled us into accepting the unacceptable.

The similarities between the patterns of Paul’s day and our own are clear.Can we bring the racialized patterns of segregation, domination, and exploitation with us to worship and still pretend it’s the Lord’s Supper in which we participate? What might it look like for white Christians to be given the space in worship to examine our hearts before coming to the table? To allow the Spirit to reveal where we’ve left the patterns which abuse our sisters and brothers uninterrupted?

When I suggest that the way to enlist white Christians in the ministry of justice and righteousness is through discipleship, this is what I mean. God has given our churches the gifts needed to spiritually form us to follow Jesus as we become more like Jesus to do the good work Jesus would have us do.

For those of us who serve and lead in white ministries, our task is to reimagine our discipleship practices so that they are forming people into deeper and deeper solidarity with all of God’s people.

The re-discipling journey for white Christians will not happen overnight. This is generational work, as we give ourselves to the redemptive journey of repentance, repair, and reconciliation. Oh, may God raise up more of his white followers who will hear the call to disciple white Christians, who will see the opportunities for holistic discipleship in white communities, who will refuse to be bound by the ancient lines of hostility and division, who believe that the gospel of our Lord Jesus has a life changing word to speak to those bound to the old status quo.

The justice of God is not dependent on white Christians.

Years ago, I was riding in a car with my friend, Pastor Daniel Hill of River City Church here in Chicago. Daniel told me that he sometimes imagines the redemptive movement of God in the world as a powerful river. Rather than joining the flow of righteousness and justice, white Christians have too often acted like a tree that has fallen across the river, collecting debris, and slowing the flow. Our job, he said, is not to try to save the white Church from itself; only God can do this. But we can shift that log. We can clear some of the debris. We can, with God’s help, unstick some of what has stopped-up the flow of divine righteousness.   

But while I hope, pray, and work for the redemption of the white Church, I never want to forget that the justice of God has advanced in this country not because of the cooperation of white Christians but in spite our resistance.

So, as I close, may I offer this reminder. While the white ecclesial complex has long had the financial prowess, institutional power, and cultural privilege to make itself the center of any conversation about justice and righteousness, God is not waiting on white Christians to get our act together in order to advance his will on earth. The shalom of God will not be frustrated by the racial hostility which is so often disguised within so-called racial reconciliation programs. The God who simply is justice and righteousness is not stymied by the white conservative’s overt intransigence nor by the white progressive’s covert sabotage.

Yes, we hope and pray and work for the reconciled witness of the whole church. We will not stop pleading earnestly with our white sisters and brothers – of whom I am one – to renounce the spirit of this age for solidarity with the whole Body of Christ. But neither will we forget the testimony of those who’ve faithfully labored before us.

We might remember Moses and Aaron appealing to Pharoah to renounce his oppressive ways. But the righteous God was not hindered by Pharoah’s hard-heartedness. We might remember Elijah’s warning to Ahab and Jezebel to renounce their allegiance to the bloodthirsty Baal. But the consuming fire of God was not hindered by Ahab and Jezebel’s stunning idolatry. We might remember the impressive empires – Assyria, Babylon, Persia, and Greece – and their totalizing claims to rule the world through the terror of their militaries and their weapons and their spectacular size. But the steadfast love of the God who loves orphans, widows, and foreigners would not be hindered by the pompous claims of emperors and their fleeting empires.

And we might also remember that dreadful puppet of a king, Herod the Great, and the terrifying might of Rome which propped him up. If ever there was a moment when it seemed as though the justice of God had met its match, this was it. God, it seemed, had grown silent. Generational land was lost to the empire’s tyrannical taxation. The temple was desecrated; exiles were scattered. The terror of crucifixion crowded the Jewish imagination.

And into this tense and terrible situation was born Mary and Joseph’s son. And while the kingdom he announced was open to anyone willing to repent their way into it, he did not privilege the powerful men who demanded his attention. He stayed away from respectable citadels and reputable synagogues. He couldn’t be bothered with the petty debates of distinguished clergy and illustrious scholars. Time and again he announced to anyone who would listen that heaven was breaking through the margins, interrupting old patterns, disturbing long-accepted status quos.

Joining the ranks of the falsely arrested and the unjustly sentenced, Mary’s firstborn refused to appeal to king or governor. After all, the kingdom of heaven did not need the permission or credibility lent by any earthly authority for its advancement. Hanging on Calvary, he accepted the totality of our un-righteousness, the entirety of this world’s injustice, the crushing finality of sin. The justice and righteousness of God would be eternally established not by appealing to this world’s powers and princes but by defeating the “principalities and powers, the rulers of the darkness of this world, the spiritual wickedness in high places.”

And when Jesus got up that first Resurrection Sunday, he did more than nudge the logjam of injustice; he did more than clear a bit of the debrief of wickedness. When Jesus got up, the glory of the Lord filled the earth, as waters cover the sea. When Jesus got up, justice ran down like water and righteousness like a mighty stream.