Racial Healing?
Introduction
Nine years ago, I preached this sermon in a Church of Christ context. I am re-sharing it now on behalf of a new coalition of diverse Christians in Lowndes County, Mississippi who are seeking racial healing at every level—personal, communal, and systemic.
Although this message was originally delivered to Churches of Christ, and it reflects some denominational language, I believe its central convictions are relevant far beyond our fellowship. The call to racial healing is not confined to one church tradition—it is a gospel imperative for all who follow Jesus, and it speaks urgently to the wounds in our culture today.
Our coalition, the One Blood Coalition, seeks to embody unity and reconciliation in Christ. My prayer is that these words, though first spoken years ago, may serve as a timely encouragement to continue this work together.
Move I: A Call to Speak
This message has two aims:
- To name the challenges and fears we face when talking about race.
- To clarify what God has done in Jesus Christ that makes racism impossible.
Many of us would like to believe we live in a post-racial America—and a post-racial church. But reality tells a different story. From the O.J. Simpson trial in the 1990s to the more recent deaths of young Black men and the rise of violent backlash, it is clear that our society remains deeply divided along racial lines.
Even in the church, Sunday morning is still one of the most segregated hours of the week. Our Christian colleges and institutions remain overwhelmingly white-led. And on social media and in political discourse, contempt and malice continue to flow freely.
I am not here to debate monuments or flags. I am here to speak theologically about racism, unity, and justice—and to ask what God says about these matters.
But to tell you the truth, I have been afraid to preach this message. Afraid for three reasons.
Move II: Afraid to Speak
1. Afraid of offending my non-white brothers and sisters.
I have never lived as a Black man. I know my ignorance may cause me to say something clumsy or even offensive. I ask forgiveness, and I ask for dialogue.
2. Afraid of offending my white brothers and sisters.
Among white Christians, there are several groups:
- Those who quietly still believe in the “rightness of whiteness.”
- Those who admit racism exists but insist it’s not their problem.
- Those who excuse themselves with “I didn’t own slaves” or “I have Black friends.”
But these attitudes do nothing to confront racism. As one preacher observed: if nine white kids watch one white kid beat up a Black kid, it is no comfort that nine did not participate—they were still silent.
And then there are those who want to act but don’t know how. And Satan, our adversary, makes sure confusion keeps us paralyzed.
3. Afraid because racism is ultimately a spiritual battle.
Racism is not merely social or political; it is fueled by the powers and principalities of darkness. To speak against it invites spiritual opposition. That is why I ask for prayer.
Scapegoating and Silence
Dave Fleer once described the “art of scapegoating.” In Leviticus 16, one goat was sacrificed and another—the scapegoat—was sent into the wilderness. Today, we often scapegoat others so we do not have to confront our own sin.
It’s easy to condemn obvious racists, lynch mobs, or even “those people up North.” But scapegoating does not remove our sin. It only drives it deeper, where it festers into systemic racism—insidious, entrenched, and unacknowledged.
Dr. King’s words ring true: “In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”
Move III: The Cross as the Foundation
Racial hatred is nothing new. In the first century, Jew and Gentile lived with deep animosity. Paul confronted this directly in Ephesians 2:11-22.
At the cross, Paul declared, Jesus gave both Jew and Gentile two gifts:
- Access to God the Father. No group comes to God apart from the cross.
- Access to one another. The peace made with God at the cross creates peace with anyone who kneels at the cross.
Paul wrote that Jesus created “one new humanity” out of divided peoples. The cross destroyed enmity and formed a new race—the Christian race.
Therefore, racism has no theological foundation. You cannot find a biblical defense for racial hatred. The cross has already torn it down.
Move IV: Down Here Like Up There
Do we really believe heaven will be segregated? Revelation 7 gives us a picture of a vast, unified multitude from every nation and language standing before the Lamb. Heaven is an “all skate,” where everyone is on the floor together.
Jesus taught us to pray, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done, on earth as it is in heaven.” If heaven is unified, then God’s people on earth must pursue the same. Government can legislate integration. Only the church can embody reconciliation.
Move V: Clarence Jordan’s Challenge
The story of Clarence Jordan, founder of Koinonia Farm during Jim Crow, reminds us of the cost of discipleship. When his brother Robert refused to legally represent the farm because of political risk, Clarence replied:
“You’re not a disciple, you’re an admirer. Jesus has many admirers, but few disciples.”
Clarence’s commitment to reconciliation, despite threats and violence, came from the cross. He believed Jesus had created a new race of people—the reconciled Christian race.
Conclusion
The work of racial healing is not optional for Christians. It flows from the cross of Christ, where hatred was destroyed and peace was made.
Today, as our coalition in Lowndes County begins this journey, I invite you to pray with us. Pray for our churches, for our communities, and for the courage to move beyond admiration of Jesus into true discipleship—discipleship that embraces the cross and the reconciling love of Christ for all people.
✍️ Lendy Bartlett
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