Voices: Justice involves addressing systemic racism

EDITOR’S NOTE: “Justice looks like …” is a special series in the Voices column. Readers will have the opportunity to consider justice from numerous viewpoints. The series is based on each writer’s understanding of Scripture and relationship with Jesus Christ. Writers present their own views independent of any institution, unless otherwise noted in their bios.

You are encouraged to listen to each writer without prejudgment. Then, engage in conversation with others around you about what justice looks like to you.

Click here for more information about the series. Click here to read the full “Justice looks like…” series.

I am a white man with a long history in southern, conservative Christianity. I have spoken out in recent years encouraging Americans to acknowledge ongoing racial injustice. That acknowledgment is anything but granted in white, southern society.

For those who already have a new mental model of white, Black and American history, the remaining issue is what to do about it. Here are some ideas.

Racism as corporate, systemic problem

First, we have to address racism as a corporate, systemic problem, not just a problem of individuals gone rogue.

The question is not, “How do I fix racism in America?” but, “In light of systemic racism’s reality, what actions on my part are right?”

The difference is an acknowledgment there is no utopian solution for systemic racism—a realism with two roots.

One root is a fallen world does not admit perfect solutions. Until the eschaton, all solutions are flawed by human nature. America always will be part of a world where people tend to look askance at those who are different. Admitting America’s racism does not mean it is worse than other nations.

The other root is no solution for systemic racism will be final. We are planted in slavery’s historic soil. As long as America exists, we will need group therapy in which our turn begins with: “Hi. I’m America, and I’m racist,” not, “I’m American, and I’m a racist.” The problem is systemic, not personal.

Hopefully, one day, instead of a confession of ongoing discrimination or oppression, it will be the humble admission that a reemergence of injustice is only one careless act away. However, admitting perfection is beyond our grasp—that systems enabling racial oppression always will be with us, even if only dormant—should not stop us from reaching for goodness.

Addressing racism individually

Second, we have to address the corporate problem as an individual. Even if I cannot make everyone else do right, I can do it myself. And the right thing for me personally will be informed by my expertise and my sphere of influence.

On expertise: While I might expand my knowledge to help more, it would be morally negligent not to use the tools already in my possession to make a difference now. We must use what we already have, regardless of how unimportant it may seem, because results alone do not define right, and because sometimes minor acts inspire major movements.

On influence: We have the difficult task of identifying with one community while resolving tensions with another. My influence is greatest where people trust me, because they identify with me.

In predominantly white, conservative churches, I have rapport and can charge headlong into controversial topics. In predominantly black churches—though graciously welcomed—I barely tip my hat toward racial issues before stepping beyond where their trust will carry them with me. They know I do not react to police lights behind me the same way they do; so, our rapport is limited.

I can and should expand my relationships, but first, I must nudge or compel people with whom I already have influence to address racial injustice where they can. Speaking for another community always either caricatures their perspective or thinly veils mine. But I can speak freely to my community now about treating others equitably.

Do what is right

Third, I myself must know and do what is right, even when others disagree. If I settle on an ethic—for instance, the golden rule—then I can act with clarity, despite the opinions of people who may or may not agree with me or each other.

There are dangers on both sides of my ethical rail. Over one cliff—defining the right thing too conservatively—we are incapable of challenging our norms. Conserving evil with good is conservatism’s intrinsic danger.

On the other side—becoming more cross-culturally aware—it also is easy to jump our ethical track—easy, but not necessary.

If I know my ethic, then I can learn from other communities, question mine, but move down the track on which God placed me. My obligation is not to conform to the disparate views of every group, but being informed by them to do what I have found to be right.

Set an achievable goal

Finally, we need an achievable goal. Beyond our world, in eschaton’s sanctuary, inequity’s deluge will cease. But here, in the community of Christ, we gather in its foyer, glimpsing into the temple itself when we worship together—a respite from the rain.

Back to daily life: Though oppressive rains continue, we still can put up shelters—maybe only umbrellas—where people drenched by injustice find the brief cover of a shared meal or unsolicited support.

To do more than signal change or respond to important but impermanent movements, what we do must become part of regular life. The disadvantage: Regular life is not spectacular; it grows with vegetation and melts with glaciers. The advantage: Plants and glaciers shape continents.

Barry Creamer has served as president of Criswell College since 2014. He is a trained philosopher and historian with a Bachelor of Arts in English degree from Baylor University, a Master of Divinity degree from Criswell College, and a Ph.D. in Humanities from the University of Texas at Arlington.

Click here to read the full “Justice looks like…” series.