Moving from Racial Distrust to Reconciliation

Racism is woven into the constitutional fabric of the United States of America. The original text of the US Constitution defined slaves of African descent as 3/5 human. Even though that injustice has been corrected – at the expense of much blood and treasure – vestiges of the original constitution remain as a stain on the fabric of American society.

As a child I heard stories, family traditions, that reflected racist views. My 3rd great-grandfather owned about 40 slaves, many who were named as property to be bequeathed in his will. I remember a story about a relative who drowned two “nigger boys” after he caught them stealing chickens. I remember the fear and anger of many parents when our schools were desegregated in 1970. As a teen in church I remember that a popular weekly youth event was canceled because “too many” black teens where being invited and attending. As a teen, I was once scolded by our pastor after a Sunday morning worship service because I had invited a black friend.

As a pastor I have encountered opposition within the church because of my efforts in working for racial reconciliation. Many of my colleagues have insisted that “some things just can’t be changed.” I once wrote an editorial in a local newspaper in favor of changing the Georgia flag by removing the Confederate emblem. I received hostile phone calls and messages for weeks. During that time, I walked into my office with my oldest son to check my phone messages. One message was from a very irate man, a member of a Church of God in our county, to let me know how disgusted he was with me. After I deleted that message, my 13 year old son said to me, “Daddy, the meanest people in the world are members of the Church of God.” The day after Barak Obama was elected as President, I met with a group of pastors for a weekly prayer meeting. As we discussed the election results, one pastor exclaimed in anger, “I can’t believe that little nigger is going to be President.” So, when I hear white Americans deny that we have a racial issue in our society I must admit that I receive such declarations with incredulity. White America suffers from a state of denial. Denial is a defense mechanism that is employed to shield oneself from unbearable pain.

With that said, I must also point out that not all white Americans are racist. As a teen, I was eating lunch at my grandparents’ home. My grandfather Tomberlin walked in with his work crew, one of whom was a young black man. My grandmother proceeded to prepare the young black man a plate and sit him at a separate table. My grandfather exclaimed, “Mary Ellen, if he works like a man, then he eats with the men.” The young man was then seated at our table and ate with the family. I could relate many more such anecdotes. The issue of race is nuanced and complicated. That’s why I use the metaphor of our society as a fabric. Some of the fabric is clean and strong, but the fabric is also stained and torn.

Many black Americans have their own family stories. Somewhere a black grandfather is telling the story of how his two young uncles were accused of stealing chickens and drowned by a white man. Somewhere a young black man surnamed Tomberlin is searching his genealogy to discover that his 3rd great-grandfather was a slave named and bequeathed in a 19th century will. Black Americans read a history that tells of Jim Crow laws, lynchings, and civil rights abuses. Black Americans remember the cold-blooded assassinations of Medgar Evers and Martin Luther King, Jr.  Evers was killed in 1963 by Byron De La Beckwith, a member of the KKK. Two Mississippi juries, composed of white men, refused to convict the assassin. It took more than thirty years for a jury to convict De La Beckwith of the murder of Evers. Martin Luther King, Jr. was under FBI scrutiny for years. There is a reason that black Americans distrust the American system of justice.

The Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. said that racist whites were not the only obstacles to the black vote. Black people had to overcome the intimidation and fear they had internalized after centuries of slavery and decades of Jim Crow. Black Americans suffer from a history of oppression and that history continues to shape the way they see American society. The fear they have internalized has become so systemic that many of them cannot see any other reality. I recently had a conversation with a black colleague about the Michael Brown incident. After we discussed the issue for a while I said, “I am willing to acknowledge that the death may not be justified; but, you are utterly unwilling to admit even the possibility that the police officer is telling the truth.” Many black Americans believe the system is against them. As white Americans suffer from a state of denial, black Americans suffer from a trauma induced paranoia that inhibits them from acknowledging serious issues within the black community.

Now enter the politicians – right and left, black and white – whose agenda and ambition depend upon keeping their political base energized. White America suffers from denial, black America suffers from paranoia, and the political leaders of all sides seek to use the social dysfunction to build and maintain power. Anytime political power is the end, justice suffers. Voices of reason can’t be heard among voices of chaos because passions are ablaze.

I can only offer a pastoral response informed by the Christian scriptures. First, there must be confession. To confess means to tell the truth about oneself. White Americans must be shaken out of their state of denial and tell the truth about their history of slavery, oppression, and segregation. Likewise, Black Americans must tell the truth about the cultural and moral decline within their own neighborhoods. When both communities deal with their own failures, then we can cast aside the failing leaders who have profited from the pain and seek new leaders that will bring the communities together.

Second, we must be a people of grace willing to promote mercy over justice. We must learn to forgive each other. I find the story of Joseph to be very compelling. Joseph’s brothers conspired against him, sought to kill him, and in the end sold him into slavery. Years later, Joseph and his brothers were again face to face. Joseph could have demanded justice and had his brothers imprisoned, or executed. Instead of justice, he chose mercy and reconciliation. As he confronted his brothers, Joseph cried out,

“Please come closer to me!” (Genesis 45:4).

If we seek reconciliation and peace, then we must be willing to move beyond our troubled past. In Christ, “old things passed away; behold, new things have come!” (2 Corinthians 5:17). If we choose to focus on our history, then the wounds will continue to fester and we will have a justice that is “an eye for an eye.” The cycle of pain will continue. Martin Luther King, Jr. declared,

In the process of gaining our rightful place we must not be guilty of wrongful deeds. Let us not seek to satisfy our thirst for freedom by drinking from the cup of bitterness and hatred.

If we can move beyond our history, then maybe our people can be healed and we can envision a future in which all men and women of every tribe and tongue can “sit down at the table of brotherhood” (MLK). To oppose this kind of reconciliation is to oppose the mission of God.

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