Removing the Stain of Racism from the Southern Baptist Convention - A Review

When people get nostalgic for their childhood, they are usually remembering a time when things seemed simpler. That does not mean life was actually less complex, typically just that they were shielded from some of the twists, confusions, and injustices in the world.

My life was simpler before I knew about the powerful impact racism has had in our nation. Even in my early years in the Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) I was unaware of the racism that is at the very root of our denomination’s founding. I did not recognize that the racial homogeneity of my church was not simply a function of different preferences in music, but often because my denomination had not done enough to remove the stain of racism.

I previously attend a church that is dually affiliated with the SBC and the National Baptist Convention (NBC). The SBC is the largest Protestant denomination in the U.S. and is slowly becoming more racially diverse. The NBC is the largest predominantly African-American denomination in the U.S. My church has historically been predominantly African-American, but is becoming more diverse as we reflect more closely the demographics of our surrounding community. This is, in part, because my former pastor has made significant efforts toward encouraging racial reconciliation.

Being involved in a truly multi-racial congregation has caused me to develop a new perspective on race relations and racism. Hearing some of our oldest members tell stories, I can no longer argue that the Civil Rights struggles were “a long time ago” and ignore the legacy of racism in our nation. Listening to conversations around me, I can never again claim I don’t know that systemic biases exist.

A few months ago, my pastor asked me to teach church history to the congregation on Wednesday evenings. In four sessions, I skimmed the surface of the major themes of our Christian past. I spent more time talking about African-American church history in part because of my context and in part because I needed to learn more about it. One of the most painful parts of teaching that lesson was tracing through this history of race relations within the SBC; clearly, we’ve made progress, but it is also apparent we have much more to do.

Removing the Stain of Racism from the Southern Baptist Convention is a volume that tells the story of the SBC’s past, provides a theological basis for moving beyond it, and makes practical recommendations for future progress. This is a necessary next step in a conversation that the SBC has been having, but which needs to continue in earnest.

This volume is an outstanding resource for Southern Baptists and others to learn about racial reconciliation. The volume opens with a collection of SBC resolutions about race, which show the convention has been talking about race—sometimes using the right language—but making insufficient progress toward healing longstanding division. In the first chapter, Albert Mohler recounts the historic origins of the Southern Baptist Convention, which were grounded in the misguided beliefs of slave owners that they could participate in race-based chattel slavery and still be effective missionaries for Christ.

Chapter two is an essay by Matthew Hall, which follows the ongoing participation of some Southern Baptists in racist rhetoric and sometimes political activity. As much as we might wish otherwise, there were many “good Baptists” who argued for Jim Crow laws. The third chapter, by Jarvis Williams, provides a biblical argument for racial reconciliation.

The next six chapters outline suggestions from theologians, pastors, and editors at our denominational publishing house for removing the stain of racism from the Southern Baptist Convention. The body of the book ends with a summary of the state of racial reconciliation within the SBC: we have made progress, but have a long way yet to go. Dwight McKissic and Danny Akin offer epilogues explaining further why the stain of racism remains in the SBC. In a postscript, Vaughn Walker commends readers to continue the work and offers encouragement that the stain of racism can be removed from the SBC.

Although published by the academic arm of B&H, this volume is accessible to the average reader. The writers and editors worked together to create a book that can inform a wide swath of members of SBC churches. More importantly, the contributors to this volume constructed a compelling testimony that (a) racism still exists in our society and our organizations, and (b) there is something we can do about it.

The uniting metaphor of this volume is “removing the stain.” In the preface, the editors explain what that means and their definition is important. To some advocates in racial politics, the stain of racism is like the blood stains on Lady Macbeth’s hands: invisible to living eyes, but indelible to the psyche. The only solution for some is for organizations once complicit in racism to self-destruct. This volume offers a greater hope, recognizing that just as people are redeemable through the gospel, so are organizations.

The metaphor is apt because it also reflects the significant and often time-consuming effort required to remove a stain. Many of us have invested a great deal of time in stain treatments and washing garments by hand to save something treasured from a permanently embedded stain. Rarely are significant stains eradicated in the first attempt, but must be scrubbed repeatedly as by degrees the offending pigment is removed. That is the sort of effort required to continue the work of racial reconciliation in the SBC.

The formal apology for the racist origins of the SBC, affirmed as a resolution in 1995 is important. Electing Fred Luter as the first African-American president of the SBC in 2012 is significant. The resolution opposing the flying of the Confederate battle flag in 2016 takes another step forward. These are important efforts in removing the stain of racism, but they are not enough.

Removing the Stain of Racism reminds readers, with voices from both African-Americans and whites, that though the SBC has made great progress, there is a lot of work to be done. The memory of the racism in the SBC will never be erased, but the stain of racism can be removed. The challenge for the white majority of the SBC is not to attempt to declare victory on our stain-removal efforts too soon. As many have experienced, once you throw the stained garment into the dryer, the stain is often made permanent. We still have scrubbing to do.

Racial reconciliation takes work. While we may remember a time in our denomination’s history when efforts toward removing the stain of racism were not at the forefront, those days only seemed simpler because we were unaware of the problem. Talking about race and racial reconciliation is hard, not least because of the extreme rhetoric on the right and the left of us. The gospel demands we work toward racial reconciliation—no matter how nostalgic we are for simpler days, the work before us cannot be ignored.

NOTE: This article was previously published at B&H Academic Blog, which has since been archived due to a change in communications strategy. I have moved and am no longer a member of the same church that was referenced in this article, but I have left the references from the 2017 publication date.

The Madness of Crowds - A Review

I was on a major university campus recently and was struck first by the affluence that surrounded me. Beyond the significant tuition payments and nice dorm buildings, there were very few “beater” cars on display. Most of the vehicles looked fairly new—something radically different than the way college kids used to drive. The university is huge, so it is really a city within a city, and both of those cities are affluent. There was a rarefied air of wealth and sophistication.

More significantly there were posters, fliers, and bumper stickers that declared opposition to “colonization,” support of various identities, and a host of other positions that reside somewhere on the left-wing of global politics.

To be clear, racism remains a significant issue in our world and must be combated. There are still misogynists and cads who use their power to abuse and undermine women. There are bullies that pick on anyone who doesn’t fit in with certain norms and attempt to demonize them.

At the same time, there are significant points where the movements that are calling for “justice” along different lines of gender, race, and identity seem to make their arguments on indefensible and sometimes self-contradictory grounds. Though they profess to be concerned about others wielding power,they seem to be altogether too prepared to swing their own billy clubs, often figuratively and sometimes literally, in the name of their preferred positions. This extra-judicial enforcement of their ideas and positions seems to undermine the nature of justice as it has been understood in most civilizations of which we have record.

Douglas Murray’s book, The Madness of Crowds: Gender, Race and Identity, takes a closer look at the various neo-Marxist movements to examine their foundations and abuses. Murray stands on what would be described the “conservative” side of many of these debates, since he indicates a belief in truth that should be pursued apart from one’s self-interest. At the same time, Murray is himself an openly gay atheist. This means that he certainly does not agree with many social conservatives on issues like the redefinition of marriage, the morality of same-sex erotic relationships, and the existence of God. This makes his critique of the various identity movements intriguing and, perhaps, more powerful.

Summary

As a gay man, Murray begins with a critique of the portion of that portion of the left’s culture war. While he is openly in support of recent inventions like the Obergefell decision that arbitrarily redefined marriage, he is careful to note that within the last decade, there were multiple gay-rights organizations, including the Stonewall organization, that opposed gay marriage. A big portion of his argument here is that, although he thinks the changes are largely good, it might be more reasonable to expect people who hold to millennia-old positions on sexual morality to take a while to come around to an affirmation of a newly invented concept.

In the second content chapter, Murray examines the current presentation of the feminist movement. His point in this chapter is that the movement is largely contradictory and puts everyone in a nearly impossible situation. There are obvious statistically significant differences between men and women in general, but to note those things publicly is, for some, a high crime. Attempts to undermine bias have created processes that necessarily bias organizations and culture in ways that tend to cut the feed from under those they are intended to help. In addition, the identity-oriented science arguments of feminism (e.g., there are no fundamental differences between men and women based on genetics) come into direct opposition with the theories favored by many in the various gay movements (e.g., there are fundamental differences between heterosexuals and homosexuals based on genetics), which creates issues. The issue becomes more epistemological than political at some point.

The third content chapter wrestles with the racial justice movement, which in its best aspects has led to awareness of systemic wrongs and worked to correct them. On the other hand, the same movement has also sought to make race (one of) the most important aspects of a human’s essence and thus made it more possible for systemic bias to continue or grow. In some cases, the result has been a new systemic bias against a different set of minorities, as has been evidenced by Harvard’s discrimination against Asians in admissions. This also puts people in weird spots, so that whites have to self-deprecate to speak against racism or be perceived as colonizers. The struggle in many cases seems to be more about power than truth.

The final content chapter discusses the transgender movement. Murray expresses sympathy with individuals who legitimately struggle with a sense of discomfort with their bodies and believe they would be more satisfied presenting as the opposite sex. At the same time, he notes that the movement for trans-rights has short-circuited the processes that might guard someone from making irreversible, life-altering decisions without considering that there might be another possible cause or solution. He discusses multiple examples where people who express minimal discomfort with their sex are quickly stepped down the road toward chemical and surgical transition, without a thorough vetting. Again, there are epistemological questions about the nature of truth and whether even asking questions (“Is your feeling true and lasting?”) is perceived as harmful.

Between each of these chapters is an interlude that explores some of the underlying causes and further consequences of this rapid epistemological shift. Murray discusses the Marxist foundations of the movement, which serves to continually enhance human discomfort by undermining power structures. He notes the impact of tech, with rapid communication, the inability to have a private conversation, and the work of Google’s search manipulations to present an alternate reality. Finally, he includes a section on one of the worst aspects of these movements, which is that there is no place or possibility of forgiveness. Statements that were uncontroversial a decade ago can now be used to destroy people who are deemed undesirable. Context matters little, as long as the right things are opposed violently and openly.

Analysis and Conclusion

Murray’s book is helpful in many ways. He points to the unsustainability of much of what passes for the social justice movement. The quest for destruction of power necessarily creates an oppressive power that will likely be as bad or worse a master.

The danger of Murray’s book is that his examples of gross abuses of various identity movements to pursue hatred and destruction of the innocent may lead some to believe that we need only resist those movements. That is most likely to occur among those who don’t actually read the book, or do so only cursorily. Murray takes concerns for the persecution of gay and trans individuals seriously, but notes that the movements that claim to support them are destroying the possibility of their being accepted or the society that will be able to accept them. In attempting to shift the Overton window, these groups may rip the house off its foundations, leaving us all cold and miserable in the winter storms.

The value of this book is that it looks beyond the gross abuses of violence and power by the various identity movements to interrogate the intellectual basis and question the logical conclusions. The result is an exposé that is illuminating, even if readers do not agree with all of Murray’s conclusions. There are a few points where Murray seems to drift a bit into outrage porn, but on the whole, he takes a fairly balanced view and calmly makes his arguments. This book, of course, is likely to be panned as violent oppression by many within the various justice movements simply because it questions some of the foundations and outcomes of their movement. However, it would benefit many on the left and the right to read the book and consider their own positions.

The Madness of Crowds: Gender, Race and Identity

By Murray, Douglas

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NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume with no expectation of a positive review.

Who is an Evangelical? - A Review

The term “evangelical” has drastically different meaning to many people. In popular discourse in the United States, the talking heads have a very particular definition in mind when they speak of evangelicals. They think they are speaking of white, middle and lower class, Republican-bloc voting, misogynistic, bigots who tend to fall into the “basket of deplorables” that “cling to their guns and religion” as several politicians on the left have argued. When exit polls showed that 81% of “white evangelicals” voted for Donald Trump in the 2016 election, this merely confirmed the popular opinion (bolstered by any sniff of resistance to the Obergefell decision) that evangelicals were in the tank for any rightwing idea, were politically irredeemable, and worthy of scorn.

For several decades, there has been a strong emphasis among many people who identify as evangelical on political engagement. In 1973, when the Supreme Court of the United States wrote their Roe v. Wade decision connecting the destruction of children in the womb to the United States Constitution, this began to mobilize many of those who value human life to seek political solutions to a significant moral crisis.

Unfortunately, as the old saying goes, politics makes for strange bedfellows. Therefore, the Moral Majority, comprised largely of white evangelicals and fundamentalists, became entangled in politics on the right, finding more sympathy among Republicans than Democrats. It would take a careful discussion to determine whether the bundling together of issues into left and right became more pronounced to facilitate this shift, as a result of the increased political engagement, or for other, unrelated causes.

Whatever the cause, the result has been that many of those evangelical Christians tend to vote for Republicans. The central cause of that loyalty has been concern about abortion. This loyalty has also led to many of those evangelical-Republican voters holding unrelated, morally ambiguous positions supported by the Republican party with roughly the same vigor as their concern for the lives of innocent children.

It is this bloc of the voters who identify as “born again” and typically oppose abortion that are cited as the 81% of white evangelicals who voted for Trump in the last election. This statistic is used as a cudgel in public to argue that the vast majority of doctrinal evangelicals a) voted for Trump out of racial fear (and are thus irredeemably racist), b) have abandoned the gospel because no faithful Christian could vote for Trump, and c) should be hounded out of the public square because of their beliefs, all of which represent heresies against the political orthodoxy of this moment.

Kidd’s book, Who is an Evangelical?, helps to counter some of the careless accusations that have been recently hurled at evangelicals as a result of this sloppy thinking.

For example, the 81% number is not nearly accurate, since a large plurality of evangelicals did not vote in the 2016 election. Only about 42% of white evangelicals voted. This seems somewhat surprising for a group that is often characterized as being mainly political (and thus not primarily religious) in nature, allegedly functioning as a voting bloc for right wing causes. As political movements go, only getting 42% to get to the polls is pretty depressing.

Additionally, a number of those who did vote did not vote for either major party candidate, based on my anecdotal experience. And, the exit polls do not provide a definition for the term evangelical. This has allowed people who last entered a church when they were 8 to claim to be evangelical, with the same confidence as the weekly attender. The voting patterns of those two groups are demonstrably different.

Summary

Thomas Kidd’s book, Who is an Evangelical?, was written to provide a history of the evangelical movement in the United States and to divorce the present assumed reality of evangelicals as a racially motivated, rightwing voting bloc from the historical reality of a gospel-centric, doctrinally oriented religious movement.

Kidd is an excellent historian and has spent a great deal of time thinking about the evangelical movement in the United States. His careful analysis in this volume helps to recall the social engagement of evangelicals in history, consider the doctrinal core of evangelical identity, and attempts to reclaim space for evangelicals to speak under the flag of the gospel rather than the banner of a particular political party.

In his introduction, Kidd offers a definition of his tribe: “Evangelicals are born-again Protestants who cherish the Bible as the Word of God and who emphasize a personal relationship with Jesus Christ through the Holy Spirit.” (pg 4) This is a helpful definition, because it is a trinitarian confession that recognizes the authority of Scripture and the nature of the gospel as it is outlined in the Bible.

Kidd outlines the rise of evangelicalism in the United States, beginning with the various revivals in early American history. Kidd draws on his extensive research on George Whitefield and others of that era to write an engaging and even-handed chapter. He then moves in chapter two to discuss the nature of evangelicalism in the American Civil War. They were characterized by proselytizing, deeply interested in religious liberty, and very divided on vital political issues like slavery. Many in the South defended the practice of chattel slavery, while many in the North were deeply engaged in the abolitionist movement.

Whatever degree of national cohesion there was among evangelicals before the Civil War was shattered by the division when major denominations split into regional factions over the issue of slavery. And yet, both groups retained their central theological identity. In the Jim Crow era, the term evangelical took on more racially differentiating meaning because the “fundamentalists,” who were trying to resist the doctrinal encroachments of revisionist Christianity, often shamefully neglected important social engagement. This meant that many African Americans, though doctrinally aligned with the core beliefs of evangelicals, would not accept the label because those who identified as evangelical seemed ambivalent to their valid social concerns. The Scopes Trial would shift the definition of evangelical toward opposing the public teaching of evolutionary theory in public schools, in part due to the work of the political progressive, William Jennings Bryan.

The Neo-evangelical movement began after the Scopes Trial, it was characterized by attempts to work together for evangelism and some social action, though the emphasis was strongly on the religious characteristics of the group. The contemporary popular understanding of the term evangelical as a political category was not the primary meaning of the term at any point in history. However, it was during the cultural shifts of the 60s and 70s that Republicans began to court the support of evangelicals. In part, this was accomplished because Republicans positioned themselves as being hard on communism, which was a common enemy to the gospel and to democracy. Despite the alliances that were formed, there was still a great deal of ethnic diversity among evangelicals. It was, by no means, a collection of old white men with political interests. The Moral Majority sprung out of this time, which became closely aligned with Republicanism and very vocal in the public square. Their rise helped propel the current vision of evangelicals as a certain brand of right-wing political organizers. Sometimes the line between acceptable political engagement and “excessive” political engagement was drawn along racial lines and over the types of issues being discussed. Those divisions have largely continued to this day.

Analysis

Kidd’s book, Who is an Evangelical?, is a balanced, critical look at the history of the evangelical movement from someone inside it. Unlike the caricatures that are common in popular media, Kidd provides a nuanced portrait of the gospel movement in the U.S. Notably, he does not shy away from criticizing evangelicals for their failures on issues like slavery, Civil Rights, and racial reconciliation. This is not a white wash of the record, but it does undermine the common trope that all evangelicals are racist and the entire movement was founded to preserve patriarchy, protect white power, and whatever other moral evils contemporary pundits want to heap on the group.

The portrait that emerges is that people who were engaged in the common cause of furthering the gospel united together for that purpose. Some have taken that unity as an opportunity to try to create a voting bloc on issues not directly tied (and sometimes contrary) to the gospel. Kidd’s book clarifies the history, but it also provides a nudge for contemporary gospel believers to be more careful about distinguishing justice that stems from the gospel (e.g., abolition of abortion) from prudential issues (e.g., the role of the government in establishing regulations over the economy), which are not central to evangelical belief. Evangelical has historically been a doctrinal label. We should work to make it so again.

Who Is an Evangelical?: The History of a Movement in Crisis

By Thomas S. Kidd

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NOTE: I received a gratis copy of this volume from the publisher with no expectation of a positive review.

Dream with Me - A Review

John Perkins is a hero of the faith. I have little doubt that within a few decades he will be featured in biographies written for children as an example of someone who did a great work for the glory of God.

His is far from a household name in many circles, unfortunately. In fact, it has only been in recent years that I’ve encountered his story which typically isn’t flashy, but exudes the powerful, life-changing reality of the gospel.

For those new to John Perkins’ story, he is an African American man from Mississippi. If that doesn’t tell you enough, know that his brother was killed by police officers decades ago, he himself was severely beaten while in police custody, and his son suffered mightily as one of the forerunners of the school integration efforts in the ‘60s.

This is a man who has every reason to be bitter, angry, and to despise whites. He’s been given reason upon reason to reject the offers of reconciliation and partnership from the ethnic groups who were responsible for so much of his pain.

He has not reacted that way, though. Perkins came to Christ as the result of his son’s invitation to attend Sunday School. Hearing the gospel turned his heart away from the natural bitterness of his experience and led to the changed heart who has influenced many for Christ. It also set in motion the work Perkins has done in making society more just.

His recent book, Dream with Me: Race, Love, and the Struggle We Must Win, is an autobiography. At 86 years old, Perkins offers this book as a self-conscious reflection on how God has worked in and through him for decades. The volume has fourteen chapters, which move in roughly chronological fashion. The chapters are thematic, telling pieces of Perkins’ story, along with a great deal of thoughtful reflection along the way.

Like most autobiographies, the best parts of this book are not the histories that he recounts, but his explanation of his perspective. Listening to an aging man explain why he did some things and not others, and what he would have done differently is pure gold. This is distilled, bottled wisdom for those who are fortunate and diligent enough to read it.

One of the most powerful aspects of this book is Perkins’ reflection on some of the sources of the vicious discrimination African Americans faced prior to and during the civil rights movement, when public displays of racism were tolerated and encouraged. Perkins notes that some of the worst racial violence came from poor whites in the South—people who were in much the same economic straits that many blacks were in during that time. However, those poor whites had something that the blacks didn’t—white skin.

Instead of commiserating and cooperating with people in similar economic straits, some poor whites cashed in on the only asset they possessed—the cultural cache of being white—using it to gain positions of relative power, like prison guard, deputy sheriff, etc. They also took opportunities to reinforce their “superiority” over people of color, living out the idea that pushing someone else down could lift them up. The reality, of course, is that such actions simply made everything worse for everyone.

Perkins is able to reflect on this condition retrospectively with grace. He’s a better man than I am, I’m sure. Instead of being angry about how poorly he was treated and how much pain many whites caused his family and friends, Perkins demonstrates a gospel-fueled love.

That’s a big piece of Perkins’ life message and the message of this book. Love, the sort of love that comes from the regeneration of hearts by the love of Christ and the power of the gospel, has the power to change things. It’s easy to forget that. Or, perhaps it’s hard to believe that when crowds are shouting at you, death threats are coming, and you simply want the equal justice the law requires. In Dream with Me, Perkins gives an example of what it looks like.

I’m not always a fan of autobiographies, but this is a book that deserves to be read. It will serve as an encouragement and lodestar for many engaged in the slow moving process of gospel reconciliation.

Dream with Me: Race, Love, and the Struggle We Must Win

$12.08

By John M. Perkins

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Note: I received a gratis copy of this volume from the publisher with no expectation of a positive review.

Through the Storm, Through the Night: A Review

Getting into a topic is the hardest part about research. Most people don’t notice this because they stop doing research when their last academic paper is due. However, if you remember trying to get started on the research for your most recent project, you may know what I mean.

Search around on the internet, check the library catalog, or scan the shelves and you may find dozens of sources, but which one is going to be the most helpful to get introduced into the discussion. Recently I began to dig into African American Christian history and was pleased to cut the Gordian knot, as it were, by asking a friend who is an expert in the topic. His recommendation turned out to be so helpful that I am passing it along for you.

Through the Storm, Through the Night: A History of African American Christianity is part of the African American History Series from Rowman and Littlefield. He teaches at University of Colorado and has authored a number of volumes on the topic of race and religion in the U.S. He presents an honest account that avoids revision on both ends of the spectrum.

Summary

This brief volume contains six chapters, with a separate introduction and conclusion. The introduction outlines the major themes in African American Religious History, laying the groundwork for the remainder of the volume. Chapter One offers a sweeping overview of African and African American religious experience from the Middle Passage to the Great Awakening; this experience consisted largely of syncretism with a strong dose of opposition of Christianization of slaves by white owners due to concerns it would cause them to desire freedom.

The second chapter documents the early stages of Christianity among slaves, which originated in the urban centers of the North and in the slave quarters. The revival of religious interest among residents of the colonies led to the evangelization of slaves and freemen, and the founding of the earliest traditionally black denominations. Chapter Three surveys the thirty or so years before the Civil War. This period included a high degree of revivalistic evangelism of slaves in the South, and the evolution of a distinct theology among slaves which emphasized liberation with an eye toward dual fulfillment in the present and the future.

In the fourth chapter, Harvey traces the history of African American Christianity from the end of the Civil War to the dawn of the Twentieth Century. It was during this time that blacks began to identify as African Americans as they sought to find their identity amidst their new freedom. This was also a time when whites in the South began to form laws to restrict the freedom of blacks. African Americans also founded a number of new denominations as they sought to live and worship freely. Chapter Five summarizes the first half of the Twentieth Century. This is a period of time when African Americans began to increasingly migrate northward to urban centers and the church became a powerful social center for those displaced communities.

Chapter Six details some of the Civil Rights Movement, shifts toward religious pluralism in some areas, and the continued pursuit of justice in the African American churches. The body of the text concludes with a very brief outline that recaps the volume and makes clear the connection between the prophetic preaching of someone like Jeremiah Wright and the long, dark history of the African American Church. After the epilogue, Harvey provides a number of brief primary source documents that support and illustrate his earlier arguments.

Analysis and Conclusion

Through the Storm, Through the Night is far from an exhaustive treatment of the topic, but it provides an excellent entry point into an interesting and important part of Church History. For those seeking to gain a deeper appreciation for Black History, particularly the history of African American Christianity, this would be an excellent starting point.

Harvey does what is vital for an introductory volume: he tells a good story and makes the reader want to know more. More significantly, he opens up the conversation on a topic that is only becoming increasingly important. The history of the African American portion of the universal church may well, in future, be a model for public engagement, theological fidelity, and social endurance for others.

Through the Storm, Through the Night: A History of African American Christianity (The African American History Series)

$27.02

By Paul Harvey

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Against White Identity Politics and Religious Registration

For all of the tizzy that some people are in over the election and the counter finger-wagging from others, there are some signals of significant causes for concern. There have been a number of false reports that have come out about the transition team and, since they supported the prior assumptions of many, they have been run with. This is problematic. However, through the noise of exaggeration and misreporting of news, there are some signs that ought to concern people of good conscience.

Against the White Genocide Movement

This election has revealed that there are good people that are becoming attracted to a movement for white ethnic identity, which is often described as opposing “white genocide” or “cultural Marxism.” As a response to the perpetual hammering of identity politics on the left, it is an understandable development. However, as a strategy for unity and justice, it is doomed to failure. Any political system that seeks disunity over unity should be rejected. The United States has already tried separate but equal once. It failed. It was mostly separate, but hellishly unequal. We should not think about going there again.

As Christians, our identity is first in Christ. As Paul tells us clearly, in the church “there is not Greek and Jew, circumcised and uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave, free; but Christ is all, and in all.” (Col 3:11) The church is a fundamentally political institution. We have “immigration policies” in which we offer membership to believers who have participated in the initiation rite of baptism by immersion. (At least in the Baptist context.) We seek justice in our relationships toward one another. However, the church is doomed to fail in the pursuit of justice if it retains distinctions based on nationality or ethnicity.

Photo: Lighting Strike by Fabio Slongo. Used by CC License:  http://ow.ly/48DR306gJNI

The future of the church is unity across ethnic barriers. This is the image we see in Revelation 7, “I looked, and behold, a great multitude that no one could number, from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages, standing before the throne and before the lamb, clothed in white robes with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, ‘Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!’” This is not a vision that should fuel ethnic division or even permit us to countenance such as the body of Christ. While we are unlikely to attain to this vision while on earth, this is what we should pursue today.

Rejecting white nationalism or white genocide does not equal a call for an “open border” immigration policy. (A common accusation against many on the right and left by those supporting white identity politics.) The United States has the right to set immigration policies that take into account the good of its citizens—this is a function of nation-states in our day, and is not inherently unjust (although it may be pursued unjustly). However, the perception of some (and some that I’ve seen who claim to be Christian) is that we must build a movement of white ethnic solidarity and ban all immigration or risk being overcome. The second is implausible, despite ridiculous claims to the contrary. The first should be anathema to Christians given our eschatological hope in a supremely diverse chorus of voices joined in worship.

Against Religious Registries

Recently someone actually went onto national television to argue for a registry of Muslim believers. Or, at least, he argued there was precedent for it. Much news can be made of this person’s relation to the incoming administration. Of greater concern for me is that such a terrible idea should never have seen the light of day outside of a condemnation of our distant past.

The person speaking was correct to note that the U.S. has a precedent for registering people. He was also correct to note that during World War II we registered and interned ethnic Japanese, some of whom were immigrants. There is a precedent for such a registry.

However, the internment of ethnic minorities during World War II is an instance of protectionist government overreach. This is a black mark on our nation’s history, not the sort of historical event we should dust off and try to recreate in the present. We should not even consider it an option, though I will engage in a thought experiment for the sake of discussion.

Let’s assume we create a registry of everyone in religion X. To do so, we have to ask ourselves how we will determine whether someone is part of that religion. Is it attendance at a worship service? Is it being born into a family that has at some point attested to being part of religion X? Is it having grown up in a nation that is perceived to be predominately filled with religion X? What happens if someone converts to another religion? How do we determine whether that conversion is authentic?

All of a sudden, the government is trying to make decisions about things that it is simply not qualified to do. Religion isn’t ethnicity, where a family tree justifies inclusion. Even when dealing with ethnicity, how much is too much? One parent? One grandparent? A brother in law? For religion, the government would have to ask a different, more nebulous set of questions.

The obvious and necessary outcome is that the government steps into the role of religious authority. Person A has demonstrated sufficient effort to be considered Christian even though he grew up in a Muslim home. At the same time, since Person B simply stopped attending the Mosque and hasn’t picked up another active religion, should he be considered to still be Muslim? Unless he eats some bacon and draws a cartoon of Mohammed? Would open sacrilege be sufficient (or necessary) to change a classification?

Suddenly, I’m catching a whiff of the Inquisition. That’s not a high point in human history, much less in Christian history. I’m also hearing echoes of the persecution of the Jews under the Nazi regime. Certainly it wouldn’t start there and it might never get to that extent, but the echoes of that horror of the persecution of the Jews should be enough to steer us clear.

So what happens when the anti-theists get hold of the government? Now we can get parallel registries of Muslims and Christians. No worries, they will just be keeping tabs on people of faith. Why? Just to keep everyone safe and ensure the government knows what is going on. And then to perhaps ensure that we don’t have people of certain faiths in certain government positions. Does this sound like a dystopian fiction? Yes, but it’s only a step or two beyond registering Muslims, which someone felt comfortable bringing up as a possibility in a TV interview.

This is the sort of thing that Christians (and any reasonable people) should speak against. It’s not a good idea. It’s not going to make us safer. It’s not going to end well. If we’re for religious liberty for some (ourselves?), then we need to hold out the same rights for all. That needs to be the principle we stand on.

The government does not have the wherewithal to regulate religion. The common good is not enhanced by the government regulating religion. Making people register their religious affiliation is not simply information gathering, it is regulating. We must keep this power away from the government.

Just a Media Overreaction?

One of the tragedies of contemporary society is the 24-hour news cycle. This creates the problem of the proliferation of interviews of people who might know someone that knows something speaking authoritatively about stuff. There is such a need to fill the airwaves that they bring people that might float the idea of something like a Muslim registry on national television. This, then, fuels dozens of hot takes (like this one), replays, edits, and discussion panels. Sometimes the furor is over nothing.

I’ll be glad to find out that this suggestion is really nothing. Unfortunately, there are some that will hear it and begin to think that such a simple encroachment on civil liberties is really worth it to prevent the explosion of another IED or another religiously driven night-club shooting. Because of the protectionist stance some (particularly whites) are taking, this will begin to sound like a good idea. Reading Twitter and some of the Alt-Right propaganda sites provides evidence that this idea isn’t just nothing.

Sometimes there is an overreaction that deserves to be neglected. The media cries wolf too often, as a rule. However, we can’t let their failures in the past prevent us from seeing problems in the present. These are issues that have the potential to take root in the minds of some in our churches and we should be careful not to let sin get a foothold.

The purpose of this post, therefore, is not to fuel the overreaction, but to offer some consideration for the ideas that are actually being floated as plausible and to encourage Christians to think about how these ideas betray the gospel (as with white nationalism) and put impartial justice in jeopardy (as with the Muslim registry). People are actually talking about some of these things as if they are good ideas. They aren’t, and we should make sure that the church is clear in standing against them.