Unraveling the Current Cultural Crisis, Part II

Yesterday I began to unravel the tangled threads that are contributing to a pressing question on the minds of our nation--the question of what to do about the Confederate statues. I laid some vital foundations in yesterday’s post for what I am about to discuss in this one, so if you haven’t yet read Part 1, please do so before continuing on...

Reactions to the statue part of the issue seem to be all over the map, both figuratively and literally. And as someone who both denounces racism and advocates for the study of history, it’s been a difficult one for me to untangle. I don’t pretend to have all the answers, but in working through this, I’ve been asking these questions:

1. Do statues of Confederate generals offend African-Americans?
           
For some, yes; for others, no.

2. Should statues of Confederate generals offend African-Americans?

I realize many will think I have no right to answer this question simply because I am not African-American. I also realize I cannot inherently understand the gut, emotional reaction that African-Americans who are, in fact, offended by Confederate statues have. But I do think it is possible to set emotion aside and focus on reason, at least for a time, so it’s reason to which I hope to appeal.

The general rationale that seems to be given for why Confederate statues should be removed is that they are offensive and that they are offensive because the men depicted owned slaves, fought for slavery, or were racist. I think we can agree that racism is wrong and offensive. So to answer this question, we must ask another question:

3. Should statues of Confederate generals be equated with racism?

This is where I’ve had the most trouble, because it’s clear that some of the men immortalized in these statues were racist. I’ve also heard claims that the purpose of erecting these statues was racist, pointing to the time period in which they were created. I haven’t had the time to research the circumstances surrounding the statues’ creation, so I can’t yet speak to whether or not there is any historical evidence for or against that claim. I do know that the mere correlation of the statues’ being set up during the Jim Crow era does not by itself indicate causation (i.e. that the statues were intentionally placed to intimidate African-Americans because they were erected during an era of racist public policies).

That being said, if there is historical evidence to show that the statues were set up for the express purpose of intimidating blacks, I think that would provide the best case for removing them. But even that is not an ironclad case because something can be redeemed out of its intent and be given a new purpose (more on that later).

But let’s separate intent from content for a moment and focus on the latter. Is the depiction of a Confederate general inherently racist? If a history textbook has a photo of Robert E. Lee in its chapter on the Civil War, is the textbook de facto racist? I would hope we can agree the answer is no.

But a statue is different, some would argue; it’s not just depicting a person; it’s lifting him up to a place of honor. True. But what is being honored in the case of Confederate statues? Is it slavery? Is it racism? Or is it something else? Once again, we arrive back at intent.

For the sake of the argument, let’s say that the intent of the people who erected the Confederate monuments was to exalt slavery and/or white supremacy. Does that mean that this particular purpose has to be indelibly tied to the statue? Or is it possible for a society 100 years removed from the statues’ formation to collectively choose to use them for a different purpose?

For all the sins of those generals who were racists and who wrongly enslaved their fellow human beings, there are honorable traits in their character as well, such as love of family, love of home, a desire to protect their land and loved ones from invading armies, and yes, in many cases, even love for God. The point is that being able to recognize both a man’s flaws and his virtues helps us not only to have a more accurate view of him but also to evaluate our own lives and see where our vices may be so we may guard against and repent of them. There is nothing but benefit in receiving somber reminders that those who do tremendous good are also capable of harboring tremendous evil in their hearts, and vice versa.

That’s why I think the best solution I have heard proposed for this statue issue is not to remove them but rather to add to them--to add plaques that explain the complexity of a person’s life, that specifically identify and honor the good and clearly, explicitly denounce the bad. By doing so, we target the true enemies (racism and white supremacy) by showing in our public parks and squares that they are wrong and condemned instead of targeting the totality of a person’s legacy and taking away reminders not only of the good but also of the very evil we are trying to eradicate.

Wiping out all things that might bring racism to mind does nothing to prevent racism, and in fact, I would argue, serves to create an environment more conducive to breeding racism because it fails to openly address the evil and paint it as such. I think by adding to these monuments, we have a tremendous opportunity to take what may or may not have been intended for evil but what is clearly associated with evil in the minds of many and actually to use them for good--a good that can benefit every member of our society by causing us all to reflect honestly on the complexity of the past and decide what we want our present and future to be characterized by.

In summary, racism is a sin. There is no scenario in which it is acceptable, and it must be explicitly denounced. The Civil War was complex. The claim that it had nothing to do with slavery is false, but so is the claim that it was entirely about slavery. Not all Southerners were racist; not all Northerners were abolitionists. As usual, the truth is more complicated than that.

And finally, we must avoid condemning an entire era or group of people for one vice instead of condemning the vice. We need to be precise in identifying and targeting the evil. Broad generalizations are counterproductive.

The greatest potential for future good is not in removing all reminders of our complicated past but rather is in prompting reflection and providing inspiration to hold on to what was good and reject what was bad. For it is when we are honest about the complexity of our forebears and the reality of a fallen human nature that we can best approach ourselves and our contemporaries in an integrous and beneficial way. 

Unraveling the Current Cultural Crisis, Part I

These recent days have been rough. Our country has always had divisions over one thing or another, but of late the divisions seem to be highly emphasized and particularly vicious. As a lover of history and student of it for many years, it’s been particularly trying to observe the swirl of arguments and protests, of people speaking (or yelling) past each other instead of listening and engaging in a civil and reasoned give-and-take.

I’m reminded of the Tom Toro cartoon that is captioned, “Those who don’t study history are doomed to repeat it. Yet those who do study history are doomed to stand by helplessly while everyone else repeats it.” Such is my life, it seems.

The current climate, especially since the events in Charlottesville, is just like any other period in history in that it is multi-faceted and incredibly complex. In many ways, it’s been a struggle to perceive what exactly the issues are. Statues? The Civil War? Nazism? Racism? It seems as if the 1850s-60s and 1930s-40s have both rushed from the annals of history and mingled into this amorphous blob with 21st-century social media and self-appointed pundits. So few appear to be serious students of our past, able to perceive its nuanced reality with all of its complexities.

And it’s into this blob that I attempt to tread, not being content to sit helplessly by. I hesitate, though, in writing because it’s such a volatile blob, and the potential for my words to be misconstrued is high, especially given the woeful inability to separate passion from reason that our current society seems to have. Nonetheless, I think it is vital that we try to maintain (or regain) that ability to take an issue, recognize its messiness and complexity, lift it up and turn it around and examine it from every angle, find the nuggets of truth and goodness that should be embraced and the lumps of falsehood and evil that should be rejected, and act accordingly.

So I'm choosing to believe that, if anyone to whom the following critiques apply reads this, they will be able to take a little bit of hard love and will gird up the loins of their minds for some self-reflection and productive analysis of the past and the present.

Ready? *deep breath* Let’s do this.

I grew up in southwestern Virginia, but it wasn't until I moved to Memphis that I saw the ugliness of racism first hand. And, unlike I had been led to believe, I found out quickly that racism is a vice not particular to people with light skin. The seeds of racism are in all of us, because we all are sinful at our core. Without a new core—a heart transplant, if you will—we will succumb to prejudice. And prejudice, when left to fester, turns into the ugly vice of racism.

To be completely honest, it has always been so obvious to me that belief in racial superiority is wrong that I find it hard to believe that it even has to be spoken against. In my worldview, founded on biblical Christianity, racial supremacy is so antithetical to goodness and truth that the fact that it’s even a question is astounding. But, the reemergence of white supremacy on our national stage has made it apparent that it does, in fact, need to be expressly called out. So to avoid all ambiguity, here are some fundamentals that are true:

1. All people are created in God’s image and thus have inherent value.

2. No ethnicity is more or less valuable than another, and there is nothing good or right about asserting that one ethnicity is somehow better or more deserving than another.

3. God judges us based on the condition of our heart (either dead in sin or alive in Christ), not on our skin color or DNA.

4. Racism is a sin.

Now that we’ve laid those truths as our foundation, let’s tackle the next piece of this blob—the Civil War.

Growing up, as I was first learning about the Civil War, I thought it was clear-cut:  South—slavery—bad; North—anti-slavery—good. As I continued to study, though, I was faced with the reality that this war was anything but clear-cut. I learned of the atrocities committed by Union soldiers and of the character of Confederate men like Stonewall Jackson and Robert E. Lee. I began to see that there was good and bad on both sides and that it would be nigh impossible to give either side unadulterated commendation.  

Once again, let’s lay down some fundamentals. Only this time, I’ll point out some statements that are purely false:

1. Every white person in the 19th-century South was a racist.

2. Every white person in the 19th-century North was not a racist.

3. Every Confederate general and soldier was fighting to defend slavery.

4. Every Union general and soldier was fighting to abolish slavery.

5. The Civil War was fought only about slavery.

6. The Civil War had nothing to do with slavery.

7. The Civil War was fought only about states’ rights/federalism.

8. The Civil War had nothing to do with states’ rights/federalism.

So what does all of this mean? For one, it means that we must recognize that of the Union, the Confederacy, and each person that fought for either side—none of them are all good or all bad. We must remember that, as I wrote about earlier, people are not black-and-white. They are neither demons nor gods. They are humans with accompanying capacity for good and evil. This should give us pause when we try to lump people, regions, or eras into a generalized mass—and when we try to make a case that something should or should not be removed.

Which brings me to the next part of our amorphous blob, the statues.  

And with that, I’ll leave you hanging and say, “Tune in tomorrow” for the rest…

A Lion’s Lesson: The Just Judge

Last time we looked at a lesson I learned during my days as a Bryan College Lion, and since the effects of past and recent events are still playing out, my alma mater has still been largely on my mind. So this week, I’d like to share another set of lessons that has been applicable both to life generally and more specifically to the current situation at Bryan.

The tutorial began when I walked through a period of grief and emotional pain beginning my sophomore year of college. It was messy, to say the least, with plenty of hurt and wrong to go around on all sides. That God-given sense of “ought,” which Dr. Boling named in an apologetics class I later took with him, was my constant companion during those months, both convicting me when I behaved in ways contrary to how I ought and grieving me when others behaved in ways contrary to how they ought.

In the former instances, I tried to be faithful to confess. In the latter, the wounds brought deep pain and often some level of anger (for more on that, see an earlier post). The perceived injustices were great--at least to me, but to the offenders they appeared to be nonexistent, which made it all the worse. I began to question whether or not it was all in my head, whether I was just being selfish or melodramatic or petty. Perhaps the parties involved really had behaved as they ought, and I was just hurting for some other reason.

That’s when I came across 1 Peter 2. Sure, I had read it countless times before, but this time, it jumped off the page and burrowed deeply into my soul.

“For to this you have been called, because Christ also suffered for you, leaving you an example, so that you might follow in his steps. He committed no sin, neither was deceit found in his mouth. When he was reviled, he did not revile in return; when he suffered, he did not threaten, but continued entrusting himself to him who judges justly” (1 Peter 2:21-23, ESV, emphasis added)

Whether I had been wronged or not, Christ obviously was, being the only sinless man to ever walk the face of the earth. And yet He did not retaliate against the perpetrators; He did not even speak in his own defense. Instead, He entrusted his very self to the One who knows all, sees all, and judges justly.

What did this have to do with my situation? Simply this: even if I couldn’t tell sometimes if I truly had been wronged, I could fully rest in the fact that God knew. If wrongs had been committed, there was an ironclad guarantee that He saw. He is not blind to injustice in whatever form it may take. So my visceral desire to defend myself and my sense of helplessness to have things made right did not have to consume me or even accompany me, because God, the Most Powerful, also happens to be the Just Judge.

What peace and relief came from this realization! No matter how feeble my own understanding was, He knew perfectly and would see that things worked according to His will.

Fast-forward a few years, and the tutorial continued as I sat under the preaching of J. D. Greear one day.[1] The passage was Matthew 7:1-6, the all-familiar, oft-quoted, and oft-misinterpreted passage about judging others. The whole sermon was excellent, as Greear explained that “judging is not about assessing; it’s about sentencing,” and laid out what judging others actually does and does not entail. But there was one facet that particularly stood out to me.

One of the ways, Greear identified, in which we do wrongly judge others is by essentially acting as if we can condemn their souls. Of course, we don’t have this power, but we often pretend to. That’s crazy, I’ve never done that! you might be thinking. You might think you haven’t, but have you ever thought, “She’s too far gone” or “There’s no way he’ll ever repent”? Have you ever stopped reaching out to someone because you thought his case was hopeless? Have you ever given up on pouring into someone’s life because you think positive change in her life is impossible?

That’s what it means to judge someone--to “regard someone as hopeless.” Greear showed that this attitude involves our placing ourselves in the judge’s seat--the seat that only belongs to God Himself. We presume not only to declare a sentence but even to know whether or not someone is deserving of one. And that is what I have to constantly guard against.

Those “he’s just hopeless” thoughts can be so subtle, even unconscious at times, yet they are so devastating. They cripple our prayers, if they even allow us to pray at all. They weaken our faith, and they constitute sin. In short, they are pride, as we think we know more or better than God.

On the flip side, though, there are many things that are considered judging today that actually are not. For instance, disagreeing with someone’s choices is not judging them. Neither is voicing that disagreement, speaking truth, or attempting to win or warn someone off of a dangerous, unhealthy path. As Greear said, “It’s what you do after you tell someone the truth that determines whether or not you are judging them.” We must still speak truth, but we shouldn’t write people off after we do so.

Putting all this together, then, we can better understand the balanced posture we are to maintain. There are times when we’ll be hurt, and we’re not sure if we’ve been wronged or not. There are times when we’ll be hurt, and it will be absolutely clear that we’ve been wronged. There are times we will observe a fellow brother or sister in Christ commit wrong against us or against someone else.

In each of these situations, we can do the following:

Trust that God sees all, and, more than that, He cares. When wrong is done, it is ultimately His Name that is profaned and He that is abused. He will not take that lightly.

Submit to the fact that vengeance is God’s. Go to war against the desire to lash out in self-righteous self-defense. Take action where needed to combat wrongdoing, but avoid waging vendettas against the perpetrator(s).

Speak truth to those who are straying. Do so out of a genuine love for them and concern for their souls, not out of a sense of self-justification.

Persist in loving, speaking truth to, and praying for those who are committing wrong. Do not shrug them off as hopeless or discount the power of God to convict and draw them to repentance and healing.

In all things, remember that God is the one who is the possessor of perfect wisdom, not us. This gives us cause both for great comfort and for humble reverence. And, thank God, He--the only Just Judge--is patient with us and will be faithful to vindicate His Name.

Photo Credit: Andrey Korzun 

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Creative Commons Attribution-Share Alike 3.0 Unported

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[1] The quotes and paraphrases in the following paragraphs are attributed to J.D. Greear’s sermon on Matthew 7:1-6 given at the 2015 Southern Baptist Convention’s Pastors’ Conference in Columbus, Ohio.