Political Correctness Redefined
By Jason English
Christ-Centered Friendship
Reggie and I are friends. We are both fathers, husbands, and pastors, and believe setting an example in the High Country is an important task for each of us. We aspire to do so by sharing our overflow of friendship.
We want each other’s church families to thrive. We are united in the advancement of Kingdom of God. We are having conversations with each other about what it means to advance the gospel in the High Country, and how we can reach more people in the High Country together. We aren’t interested in seeing who can win the false competition of appeasing consumers, and we aren’t sorry to disappoint those who think our aim is to give them exactly what they want. Instead, we are having conversations about bringing leadership to what we think the High Country needs. And we are committed to doing this together.
We could spend thousands of dollars and rent out the football stadium as a way of demonstrating unity, but it is more authentic and more effective to simply be friends and examples of mutual respect.
While our friendship is not centered around racial issues, if I am going to try to leverage the platform that God has given me in the High Country as a way of setting an example for the next generation, it’s time for our friendship to include setting an example together in the area of racial reconciliation.
The Danger of Silence
One of my former seminary professors shared with me that he began his role in pastoral ministry in the 1960s during the Civil Rights Movement. He assumed that since he was young and he was white, that he couldn’t really do much. And then as an older man, he regretted his silence.
I have mostly kept quiet about the issue of white privilege and the history of racial brokenness in our country, especially as it relates to the oppression of the African American community. My main reasoning has been seemingly valid, but a bit of a weak excuse. My ancestors were European Jewish immigrants who came over to the United States well after the abolition of slavery in the United States, and were not part of any known oppression against African Americans. If anything, my ancestors were simply attempting to flee from their own persecutors.
I kept telling myself that since my ancestors were Jewish immigrants, I didn’t have any responsibility to help in racial reconciliation in America. But in reality, I am just a generic white guy that has had a certain kind of ease in my life.
This ease manifested itself in various ways throughout my life. It didn’t occur to me until my early adulthood that during the integration of the school system my African American friends got bussed 45 minutes out of their neighborhood to attend school while I simply rode my bike half a mile. I had not a single thought for the difficulty integration was creating for my fellow students, when in reality I had it much easier because that’s simply the way that it was. When I think about the idea of white privilege, I don’t need to walk in shame, but I do need to realize and acknowledge that which I was raised in. There was an ease that I didn’t realize. I shouldn’t be ashamed of the comfort that I had as a boy, but now that I have a voice in this community, I realize that my silence does nothing to help those who need it. I can no longer be part of passive conversations designed to maintain a broken system.
There is a passage in Matthew 5, verses 21 and 22, when Jesus said: “You have heard that it was said to the people long ago, ‘You shall not murder, [a] and anyone who murders will be subject to judgment.’ But I tell you that anyone who is angry with a brother or sister [b][c] will be subject to judgment. Again, anyone who says to a brother or sister, ‘Raca,’ is answerable to the court.”
The word '‘Raca” is an Aramaic term meaning contempt. But the image associated with that word is the noise that is made when you are about to spit. Imagine that noise in your mind. Jesus is, in essence, saying that if you want to make that noise and consider spitting at that person, you are already a murderer in your heart. Should you have the impulse to spit on someone, it is preceded by the thought that you’re better than them. By this reasoning, if you think you are superior to anyone you have just taken a step towards murder..
This concept draws me straight to the Genesis account of the first murder in human history. The first murderer ever (Cain) was the first person to ever be born, and his victim was his brother (Abel). Murder seems to be among the broken part of humanity, and even much of human history is summed up in this way. After Cain murdered Abel, the Lord asked Cain “Where is your brother?” And Cain’s response was “Am I my brother’s keeper?”
Cain’s passive response haunted me. In my heart, it connected with the idea of Jesus’ teaching about ‘Raca.” It occurred to me that if I were presented with the question: “Where is your brother?” and my response took on the tone of not having any responsibility, I would be taking on the posture of a murderer. Similarly, asking “Am I my brother’s keeper?” is the question that a murderer asks.
Even though I have never harmed someone like Cain did, I think that if my brother’s well-being is not my responsibility then I have taken on the posture of Cain.
I would like to propose two new versions of being politically correct in an attempt to help bridge the gap that has ripped through our country.
Pray. Ask God to bring healing.
Confess. Own your responsibility in this. When a racial issue is brought up, I would love to see followers of Jesus own their responsibility as their brother’s keeper, instead of trying to assign blame.
Pursue. Actively find friends who look different than you.
Commune. Have a meal with and/or observe communion with someone who looks different than you.
This article was originally written for the Winter 2016 Edition of The Journey Magazine.