I’ve many conversations in the last several years about racism in the church. There are more than a few in the church that embrace racism by denying its presence. I recently posted on Facebook,
Our embedded racism is most often demonstrated in the insistence that we are not racist, in the resistance to a serious conversation about racism, and in the failure to listen to the stories and experiences of others. Why does a serious conversation about racism make us so uncomfortable? So angry? Why do we refuse to listen?
I believe that one of the gifts of the Spirit is discernment, the ability to see as the Spirit sees. Therefore, I prefer to see the world as it is, not as I wish it to be. So, let me share with you the world as I’ve seen it.
I’ve seen racism in the church, so deeply embedded, that Spirit-filled people could not discern its evil. Let me offer several examples.
When I was a child, Lester Maddox was governor of Georgia. His claim to fame was expelling black patrons from his restaurant with an axe handle. He was an unrepentant segregationists. He was also a prominent speaker in many white church events, hailed as a committed Christian believer. After he left office, he spoke in our church as an honored guest.
As a teenager, I once invited a black friend to attend Sunday morning service at our church. We sat on the back row together. When the altar call was given, he went forward and I followed to pray with him. After the service, the pastor approached me at the altar and rebuked me for bringing a black person to church. When I tried to defend myself, my pastor insisted, “When in Rome, do as the Romans do.” Of course the insinuation was that in south Georgia black people aren’t welcome in white churches.
Our church had wonderful student ministry. The church hosted a weekly student prayer gathering on Thursday evenings which were attend by as many as 40-50 young Christians. Many of us invited black friends from school to attend. They did. It caused so much controversy that the church leaders canceled the youth prayer meetings in fear of integration.
My first pastorate was a small church in a small town. Soon after I assumed the pastorate, I was asked to attend a local school board meeting. I was happy to do so, because I’ve always believed in being a community minded pastor. During the meeting, one of the leaders of our church asked the school superintendent, “Now that President Reagan is in office, can we re-segregate the schools?” Many church-going white people applauded.
During the early 1980s, the Church of God was having regional conversations about the proposed practical commitments. I spoke in favor of the new document, and highlighted its teaching on social justice. Afterwards, an elderly minister, whom I knew and loved, said to me, “Son, don’t you understand that n****rs have their place?” Several weeks later, we gathered at North Cleveland Church of God to have a similar discussion. When a black minister dared speak about social justice, moans were heard over the assembly. The pastor sitting next to me, leaned towards my ear and said, “This isn’t the place for that.” I replied, “If this isn’t the place or time, then when and where?”
During the early 1990s, I was invited to speak at a Black Ministries Conference on the subject of “Racial Reconciliation in the Church of God.” I knew my presence at the conference would be controversial, so I visited my State Overseer and gave him a copy of my presentation. He warned me, “Dan, it would be better for you politically if you didn’t attend that conference.” I went anyway.
In 2001, I wrote an editorial that was published in our local newspaper that favored changing the Georgia flag because of its segregationist history (see here). I was unprepared for the vitriol it provoked. I received angry phone calls from many states. One such call was recorded on my answering machine. The caller began by telling me which Church of God congregation he attended, and then berated me. My sixteen year old son was with me when I first listened to the recording. He responded, “Daddy, the meanest people in the world attend the Church of God.”
Once, during a revival service, I washed the feet of a black pastor. That act provoked rage among many in my congregation.
The day after Barak Obama was elected president, I was gathered with a group of Church of God pastors for a weekly prayer meeting. One of the pre-prayer topics we discussed was the election results. One of the pastors denounced the president-elect as “that little n****r.” I rebuked him. During the eight years President Obama served in office, racist jokes and conversation were common among church members and ministers.
I wish I could tell you that these are exceptions, but in fact, these were common experiences. I could tell even more.
I must also applaud those have who resisted racism. I remember the first time our state youth camps were desegregated, and the controversy it provoked. That state youth director was unflinching. During my pastorates, many people left the church when we included blacks. But most people didn’t. I remember one Sunday morning when a young black boy (about 12) came to my office and said, “Pastor, I want to be an usher today.” I took him to the head usher, a 60 year old white man. The head usher put his arm around the boy and said, “Come on, let me teach you what to do.”
Today is Pentecost Sunday. The streets of our nation are in riots. Tensions are high. I pray that the Holy Spirit will fall upon our churches, that the fiery tongues of the Spirit will burn away the chaff of racism, that all believers will be crowned by flames of love. Also, that we can clearly see with anointed eyes the embedded racism in our midst.
Several years ago, I produced a radio devotional on the topic.
