Can a White Person be a Victim of Racism?

Image from: http://www.sbc.net/media/

At the recent Southern Baptist Convention (SBC) annual meeting, a white man (presumably an SBC pastor) got up to the microphone and said that he had experienced racism personally in his life. He might have even said he had been a "victim of racism" (unfortunately I don't recall his exact words) * (see note at the end).

What brought him to this conclusion?

He told the story of how one time he attempted to worship at an African-American church. He was discouraged from attending by a couple of people there and even asked to leave. One person told him he would be better off worshiping "with his own kind."

On the Importance of Avoiding False Equivalencies

Words are important. This white man may very well have experienced discrimination. He may very well have been the target of bigotry. Or maybe there was another explanation (see below). But one thing is clear: He was not in any way a victim of racism.

Racism is discrimination with systemic, social power behind it. Racism is more than just one individual rejecting another based on superficial criteria. The power of a congregation to discourage a visitor from attending a single church service is not sufficient to merit the term "racism." Racism is the social, political and legal structures that keep one group of people in a second-class position as another. Racism may certainly be expressed by individual incidents like the one above, but it also requires a larger framework.

I totally understand that this man may have been hurt. He may have felt rejected. He thought he was attending in good will, but instead of a wonderful experience of unity he found himself on the outside looking in. But to call this "racism" is to create a false equivalency. One person's one time experience of rejection is not equal to a population of people who live with both historical and ongoing trauma, oppression and marginalization every day of their lives.

Further, calling them "racists" if they don't enthusiastically open their doors to your one-time, unexpected visit is to not take seriously the trauma this group may be acting out of. He needs to work harder than that.

Whether it's intentional or not, claiming that "there is racism on both sides" comes across as an attempt to downplay the experiences of the African American community. As such, it is actually considered a an expression of racism itself. There may certainly be negative experiences felt by both African and Caucasian Americans by the other, but the situation of race in America is anything but equal. Taking one isolated, small incident and acting as it if levels the experiences of both groups is not fair and it is easy to wonder if this SBC man was really acting in good faith.

Maybe it wasn't even discrimination at all

There is another another reason why this man may have been rejected from this church besides racial discrimination.  Both historically and in the present day, life for African Americans has been much more difficult than for white Americans on average. African Americans have found that whenever they have been happy or successful, or whenever they have expressed themselves, talked energetically or laughed loudly, that white people would inevitably do something to sabotage that. They were accused of being too "uppity" and put down harshly. Their leadership was thwarted. When they complain, they are gaslighted and accused of playing the victim, which only exacerbates the trauma. This is the brutal reality of life as second-class citizens.  Many African Americans have had to pretend they were less successful, less happy and less educated than they were for fear of precisely this.

Look at the burning of the black wall street in the Tulsa riot and the murder of hundreds of black people by an angry white mob. America has a long history of brutal lynchings and white supremacist groups which operate as a system of domestic terrorism designed to keep one group of people "in their place"--that means not equal.

In the midst of all that, the black church has been a refuge. It has been a safe haven for black people to more fully express themselves without fear (although given all the church burnings and bombings through the years, this has obviously made the black church a target for white racist terrorists). In milder times, the black church has been a place to simply be yourself. It is a place where others can sympathize with and understand you.

Is it any wonder then that when a white man shows up unexpectedly at an African American congregation that perhaps the congregation might feel invaded?

Emanuel A.ME. Church in Charleston, SC, opened their doors and allowed the young, white Dylan Roof to attend their Bible study on June 17, 2015.  The consequences were that he shot and killed 9 of their members. In light of this, is it even remotely fair for a white man to claim he is a victim when he shows up unexpectedly at a black congregation and finds himself discouraged?

The work of healing racial wounds is going to take a lot more than a random Sunday visit, however well-intentioned it may be. And if you are angry that African Americans don't let you into their space, ask yourself:  Where is this anger coming from? Do you feel entitled to be in their space?  Does it bother you that they have power and are using it? Historically, white people maintained numerous "white only" spaces but back people were often putting themselves at great risk to ever dare say "no" to a white person. Could this anger be an expression of this racism? Look deep within yourself to answer that question. There are many layers of racism buried within each of us, hidden even from ourselves, but the fact that they are hidden does not take away their sting nor their seriousness.

I know this is hard for many white people to hear, because white groups are being asked to open up and become more racially diverse and integrated.  Why is it good for one group and not the other?  The answer is simple:  Experiences in both groups are not the same.  White people do not have anything close to the multi-generational trauma and ongoing systemic racism that African Americans live with every day. There is nothing in theory "wrong" with spaces for white people to be with other white people. However, those opportunities present themselves almost every day for white people. As a white man, I could easily live my life without any contact with other races if I chose to. There is plenty of "white only" time if I actually wanted that. Furthermore, white people have consolidated power and privilege in those white circles, so there is not only value but actually a need to open that up to dividing up power and privilege as well as for education purposes.

Not every black congregation will respond this way, of course. Personally, I have been welcomed to worship services at black churches--although I usually go after receiving an invitation or at least getting to know one of the members and asking first. Some were quite happy I was there. Perhaps some were simply being polite. I should also point out I've been to some very secluded rural white churches where I didn't exactly feel cozy and welcomed, either. They may not have been mean, but perhaps they just weren't used to having visitors. And that's the point here:  Maybe instead of rushing to judgment we can take a deep breath and consider that maybe the story is much bigger than we realize and that the work of unity may take that--a lot more work than just showing up unexpectedly one Sunday and expecting a hero's welcome. Maybe that Southern Baptist man could take time to get to know individual members of this African American congregation and enter into a dialogue where trust can be built so that one day he might very well be welcomed to the church that once asked him to leave.

* NOTE: It is important to point out that this one white man's comments do not represent the SBC as a whole. I just thought his comments were a good case study, because what he said is similar to what I hear elsewhere. I find a wide range of racial perspectives within the SBC. The SBC leadership overall is continuing to work hard to make racial progress.

Why Evangelicals Should Discover Early Christian and Catholic Authors

Image by @ChulHYoo posted in Twitter. Caption:
"The times they are a changin!! #SBC18 #SBCAM18"

I've seen a dramatic change in book tastes in the last four years of attending Southern Baptist Conventions.

Two year sago, the first messenger I met—upon hearing that I was representing the Catholic Church—asked me for a good Thomas Merton book recommendation. He had just finished The Seven Storey Mountain, loved it and wanted to know where to go next.

The Lifeway book selection in the exhibit hall is often a good barometer of the interests of the people and what is currently politically acceptable in the culture. After all, Lifeway is an official body of the SBC and subject to the rigors of orthodoxy and the demands of voting and tithing member churches.

In the Christian classics section this year, in between the predictable sellections of Jonathan Edwards and C. S. lewis, I was surprised to find works by St Augustine, church historian Eusebius, St Athanasius and Thomas a Kempis. I also found G. K. Chesterton's Orthodoxy, with an introduction by Charles Colson which never mentions Chesterton's Catholicism.

It goes without saying that only a few short years ago this never would have happened. In fact, I remember Lifeway selling either a Merton or Augustine book (I can't remember which) years ago and receiving formal complaints on the convention floor as a result.

I applaud Southern Baptists for finding value in these authors. They are not just Catholic authors—they are part of your heritage, too.

Growing up a Catholic, I was always disappointed when my evangelical friends would go to great lengths to avoid learning anything about the first 1,500 years of Christianity. Some of the more scholarly-inclined would apply themselves rigorously to study of Ancient Jewish tradition and culture in order to better understand Scripture. However, most of them refused to learn much of anything about the first 1,500 years of their own religion—Christianity. I guess the fear of  Catholicism was strong.

A key word here is "refused." It wasn't that they simply weren't interested—many outright resisted any suggestion that they would benefit from putting attention there.

I'll be honest and say I took it personally when I was younger.  They were not just rejecting some detached aspect of Church history—I felt they were also rejecting me as a Catholic. But even more so, in order to reject me as a Catholic it seemed like they were willing to reject their own history and a part of themselves—to cut their nose to spite their face, as the saying goes.

I would argue that whether you like or dislike Catholicism, a Christian is mostly shooting him or herself in the foot to stubbornly cut themselves off from their own family tree in this way.

As one Christian brother to another, I would advise that this may not be the best decision. I say this not to gloat or try to "push Catholicism" at all. But modern Christianity came out of this period in no small way. The Biblical canon was finalized and theological understandings such as the Trinity and the dual natures of Christ were hashed out in no shortage of very open and passionate debates. Many of those debates have been preserved in writings and are a treasure trove to read. Good and holy people walked the earth and bore witness to Christ. No, their understandings of their faith are often markedly different from modern day evangelicalss—but they are also markedly different from some modern day Roman Catholics. Things change over time.

It seemed there has been a refusal among evangelicals to believe that anything good has come out of this thing called the pre-Reformation Catholic Church. If there were any doubt, it was important to close the door to make sure never to find out otherwise.

Thankfully, many evangelicals today are rejecting this isolationist position and coming to many of the same conclusions here. They want to reconnect to this part of Christian tradition. They want to connect to a part of themselves.

I was glad to read this blog post by a Baptist scholar.

And while Merton is a post-Reformation Catholic, his faith is so deep and his mind so sharp that he belongs to the universal Church. Heck, why limit our curiosity just to the pre-Reformation era when Christians of all denominations are giving a witness worthy of our attention today. Again, why cut our nose to spite our face and turn way from all the wisdom we can find, regardless of which denomination it comes from?

Last but certainly not least, I was glad to see prominent displays of women authors and works about racism. Two works by Dietrich Bonhoeffer were conspicuously displayed. In these disturbing political times, it may be worth listening again to the lessons of this Lutheran pastor martyred by Nazi Germany.

A Catholic Arrives to the Southern Baptist Convention

Getting to this year's Southern Baptist Convention felt like a reenactment of that classic 80s movie Planes, Trains and Automobiles.

First, there was an early morning drive to the airport only to discover that almost all parking lots were full. A couple drives around the airport and I found an option. 

Next was a turbulent flight crouched tightly in the middle seat while a hyperactive kid was incessantly bugging me: "What game are you playing? Who are you texting? Can I set this food on your tray? Can you push the button for the stewardess? I can't reach it." Queue headache medicine. 

After landing, it took what seemed like hours of wrong turns and coaxing drivers to get a transit to the right airport terminal to find the light rail that took me downtown. Even work weary Dallas travelers remarked to me, "man... you look tired." 

I got off about a half mile from the convention, so with a week's worth of clothes on my back, I made the walk in nearly 100° heat and full Texas sun. Afterwards, the journey to my hotel involved missed trains, wrong trains and even longer walks in the heat with my feet clearly feeling the blisters by now.

What is the point of all of this? Aside from demonstrating a clear case of first world problems, I guess my point is that I would tell all my evangelical friends: Don't ever say I don't make personal sacrifices for the cause of Christian fellowship across denominational lines!

And how small those sacrifices are compared to what so many others have gone through (and continue to go through) elsewhere in the world. I'm safe, well-fed and there's a comfortable bed waiting. We can do better without even much risk.

Before closing for the night, I'll leave you with these thoughts. I saw a sign in the convention area: Every church has a part to play in reaching every nation (posted by the IMB - International Mission Board).

I don't know the intentions of the authors. How wide of a scope did they imagine in this statement? More importantly, how wide of a scope do YOU think it has? 

Is this just for Southern Baptists, or at least other evangelicals?

Can Catholics think this way of Protestants? Can both liberal and conservative churches regard each other this way? Can we all believe that each church, each denomination, each theological system has a unique role to play in reaching people that other churches, denominations and systems either can't or won't reach--despite their imperfections (or maybe even through their imperfections)?

Sure, there are limits, but what if our limits are too, well, limiting?

A Twitter Hashstorm: The Alt-Right Controversy at the Southern Baptist Convention

from: http://www.sbcannualmeeting.net/sbc17/photo/271/
"Southern Baptists overwhelmingly pass a resolution June 14 condemning
the racism of the alt-right movement. Photo by Adam Covington"

The Southern Baptist Convention first rejected then resurrected a resolution against the alt-right and white supremacy. This occurred at their annual meeting held in Phoenix, AZ, a couple weeks ago in June, 2017. Click here for a sequence of events. There are many different ways to understand this process, and it stirred quite a controversy.

An Outsiders Perspective

It was a roller coaster ride of emotions for me. I stand not as a member of the SBC but as a very interested observer from the Catholic Church who cares deeply about race. My colleague (a Roman Catholic priest) and I attended the Convention as representatives of the US Catholic Bishops in Christian friendship.

I spent much of the Convention glued to my Twitter feed, and I'm not typically an avid Twitter user.

News of the proposed resolution against the alt-right and white supremacy broke before the Convention. Twitter was chock full of some of the nastiest, most vile messages against it. Yet, I sensed something was awry. SBC pastors and leaders, as well as most church folks, are some of the most polite people I have ever met. They have a very Southern way of being indirect about grievances and disagreement. While they are also not shy about engaging in debate, what I saw on Twitter did not match the tone or timbre of what I have come to know as the SBC.

I suspect the #sbc17 hashtag was being rigorously trolled by alt-right activists. The vile, pornographic language and level of aggressiveness in the tweets signaled the work of outsiders. The language was so consistent in these tweets, actually, that it could have been the work of just a few (or even a single individual) using continuously new, anonymous accounts making it seems like the outcry was bigger than it really was. 

However, there were also few voices competing with these, before the Convention started. The glaring silence of others in the SBC worried me. Were there no contrary opinions? Were feelings against racism too weak or afraid of the alt-right to speak out? Was the SBC so weary from backlash against repudiating the Confederate Flag last year that it no longer had will to stand up to white supremacy this year? I wondered.

A lot has happened in one year. The campaign of Donald Trump has been associated with a significant increase in violent actions and rhetoric along racial lines. Trump received 81% of the white Evangelical Christian vote--which would soundly describe most SBC members. In the wake of Trump, many in our culture--like myself--were left wondering where do white Evangelicals--like many in the SBC--really stand on racism? Were all the apologies in the past just lip service? Most Americans understand that voters had only a couple choices for president and complex political issues had to be boiled down to a single vote. We get that. But what has been noticeably absent is  white Evangelicals holding Trump accountable since the election. They could be saying to Trump: "Yes, we voted for you, but that was in spite of--and not because of--the racist rhetoric, and we condemn that rhetoric." That outcry has been pretty minimal from the white Evangelical community, which comes across as an endorsement.

When the alt-right resolution failed to be brought to the floor on Day one of the two-day Convention, and when the messengers failed to keep any semblance of it alive after that, Twitter just blew up. It blew up in a way that raised my spirits.

I was so wound up I could barely sleep that night as tweets poured in.

I was so encouraged by the groundswell of support. SBC members simply did not want to leave Phoenix with the world unsure about where their denomination stands on the alt-right and white supremacy. It wasn’t just one Twitter account leading the charge, although there were key leaders in this effort. It was dozens and dozens of formerly silent Twitter accounts erupting all at once. At least one group organized a meeting to draft a new resolution with the resolution's original author, Texas pastor Rev. Dwight McKissic. The Resolutions Committee itself sought to find a way to remedy this. Russell Moore, president of the SBC's Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission, had a hand in drafting the revised version.

I was grateful to witness this.  It was a pure blessing to see both the Twitter messages appearing one after the other in rapid succession and being part of conversations in the convention center hallways. Dozens and dozens of pastors and SBC members entered the fray.

It will be hard to walk away from SBC 2017 without at least a shadow of a doubt as to where the membership stands. Al Mohler, president of Southern Baptist Seminary, remarked that the SBC has indeed gotten a "black eye."  

Yes, the SBC stumbled and fell here. It may be hard to wash all the dirt off.  But the stumble created a moment that allowed the SBC to mobilize to make it right.  That movement was pure blessing to watch. I am not a voting member, but as a fellow Christian who cares deeply about what happens here, my heart was with the SBC every step of the way. I am optimistic about the health of the SBC after this.

My assessment: Those who want to put racism behind them are sincere and passionate. There is also a gap between SBC leadership and the membership as well as a generational gap among pastors. When the SBC messengers voted last year to repudiate the Confederate Flag, once person spoke on the Convention floor that it was a fine resolution for pastors but it may be difficult to explain to churchgoers back home. A lot of people want to believe that the SBC has put its racist past behind it, but its rank-and-file membership seems divided as to the necessity of these resolutions and the relevance of symbols like the Confederate Flag.

Some members of the SBC were upset with the headlines coming out the Convention. Those headlines may--or may not--have been unfair. Still, I would urge the SBC not to spend a lot of energy feeling like victims of sensationalistic journalists trying to exploit a controversy for juicy headlines. The hesitation of the SBC over this issue opens real wounds and makes real people wonder where the SBC really stands.  I saw African-American pastors and families shed tears on the Convention floor in shock over what they thought would be a routine denouncement of racism that was instead killed in committee--at a time when our nation cannot afford to be neutral on race.  These are sincere questions that deserve answers.

While I believe SBC senior leaders are sincere in wanting to put racism behind them, they may be guilty of tone deafness here. They underestimated what message it would send by avoiding this topic. Case in point: Alt-right groups were initially declaring this a victory for white supremacy. Perhaps SBC leaders simply wanted to avoid a difficult topic, but sometimes the best way to attract controversy is by attempting to avoid it. Still, those fighting passionately for racial equality and reconciliation are an impressive bunch, and they give the SBC a bright future.

The Love Affair Doesn’t End With a Few Apologies: The SBC and Racism

Imagine the worst of the worst happens: You cheat on your spouse.

Thankfully, you are fully willing to end the extramarital affair and repair the damage. Both you and your spouse want to put it completely behind you.

You confess your transgressions and give an extremely sincere and tearful apology.

This apology is wonderful, important and absolutely necessary—but there is no way you could possibly pretend that it is going to fix everything. One apology is crucial, but it is only the first step on a long journey of reconciliation.

From this point on, it’s not enough to simply be faithful—you will have to go out of your way to demonstrate that you are faithful beyond any reasonable doubt. Trust is hard to build, but it is even harder to rebuild. Wounds take time to heal. They need love, tenderness and patience. You have to prove to your spouse that you are sincere and that your heart is in the marriage.  

For example, you generally wouldn’t spend time alone with another single person and certainly not your former love affair. You may have absolutely no intention of anything beyond friendship, but why would you put your spouse in that position? Old wounds can be triggered. Your spouse could be at home anxious experiencing PTSD, going through a series of mental exercises trying to relax with the situation. You are the one who transgressed; therefore you are the one who should go out of your way to reassure your spouse. Don't put your spouse in that position.

You are going to have to prove yourself over and over—perhaps daily. But that’s okay because you love your spouse. People screw up. Repair and reconciliation are both possible. You may even grow stronger in your marriage. Trust may always be at least a little bit fragile, but major healing is possible. However, healing is going to be impeded if you drag your feet over having to "apologize too much" and complain that your spouse "just can't get over it already."

This analogy fits the Southern Baptist Convention and it’s longtime love affair with racism.

The SBC and racism have a long history. The denomination formed in 1845 when it split from other Baptists over its pro-slavery stance. Later, many of its members were deeply embedded in Jim Crow segregation and were often on the side resisting the Civil Rights struggles of the 20th century. 

The SBC has done much in recent years to leave racism in the past. Public apologies and resolutions have been forthcoming denouncing racism and all its trappings. Milestones include the 1995 apology for its complicity in slavery, the enthusiastic election of an African-American president, Fred Luter, in 2012, and the 2016 repudiation of the Confederate Flag. So this year, when a resolution was proposed to denounce the recent resurgence of white supremacy and the alt-right movement in US culture, it seemed like the stage was set for a routine—but deepening—commitment by the SBC to distance itself from racism in all its forms.

However, that is not how it played out at the Convention this week. The mostly white Resolutions Committee first rejected it from even being brought to a vote. The reasons given were technicalities over topical redundancy and awkward verbiage, but it was all too easy to wonder if there was not another backstory to consider. Voices from the floor tried to resurrect the resolution, but these attempts failed to achieve the needed 2/3 majority. Alt-right groups on Twitter celebrated this as a victory for white supremacy.

Let's consider what this would look like going back to the extramarital affair analogy:

Your spouse admits to some friends that there had been an affair, but tells them it is over and you are healing the marriage. Your spouse asks: “Honey, tell the people that you don’t spend any time with your former mistress anymore.”

A simple "of course not" is all that would be expected to pass through your lips, but to everyone’s amazement, your response is “well . . . it’s complicated . . .”

The trust that had been slowing getting repaired is suddenly put into jeopardy.  What do you mean, ‘it’s complicated?!’

For a denomination whose very origins are steeped in pro-slavery ideology, who members include those who lived and breathed Jim Crow, even two or three apologies will not be sufficient. 

The issue is timely. The campaign and election of Donald Trump has been associated with a surge of racist rhetoric and violence in the USA. 81% of white Evangelical Christians—such as those in the SBC—voted for Trump. This would have been an ideal time for the SBC to make it clear that whatever support its members may have for Trump is in spite of—and not because of—the association with racism. 

The official story may very well be true. This resolution may simply have gotten tangled up in parliamentary procedure and rules of order. But to play games with technicalities with such a sensitive issues, especially given your past history, only lends credence to what so many may have already been suspecting—that perhaps this rodeo with racism is not quite over.

African-Americans have been lured by the promise of racial reconciliation many times and places only to find the door slammed in their faces yet again. It’s hard to open up and attempt to trust again.

Some people ask:  Why yet another resolution?  Why can’t we just let this go? We repudiated the Confederate Flag last year, why go through that again?

Those aren't the questions of people bending over backwards to make sure there is no doubt about where they stand on this crucial issue. 

It’s going to take time and sincerity. White people are going to have to prove themselves on this issue over and over again. 

If all you want to do is spit out a quick apology and then go back to doing whatever you have always been doing, perhaps you weren’t as sincere about reconciliation as you’d like to believe. Reconciliation means that things are going to be different going forward. It means not just your words but your actions will to be different, and this needs to be demonstrated consistently over time.

***

As a Roman Catholic attending the SBC as an outside observer, I was personally moved by how members resolved this issue.  A groundswell of support arose to make certain that the convention did not close without righting this wrong. A resolution against white supremacy and the alt-right movement did ultimately pass a day later, and it was nearly unanimous. I will be writing more about this in the future. I was immeasurably blessed to witness the movement of the Holy Spirit in the SBC in this.

This post is meant to address those—both inside and outside the SBC—who are still not convinced about what all the fuss was about. I hope the analogy of an extramarital affair helps to put it in perspective.

As Southern Baptist Jared C. Wilson writes on Twitter:  How long do we keep repenting for the same ol’ sins? Until they’re all gone.

And that’s it, brothers and sisters. It is ultimately not the job of the white community to decide when enough has been done to treat this wound.

Enough is Enough: Southern Baptists Vote Against Confederate Flag

 

 

The Southern Baptist Convention voted to "repudiate" the use of the Confederate battle flag today. Russell Moore, president of the SBC Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission, wrote this touching piece. The vote was not unanimous, and it was not easy. It had vocal opposition. Make no mistake, though: The resolution still passed with overwhelming support. 

As an outside observer the last two years, I have felt a strong desire of the people of the SBC to put the sins of racism behind them--even if they aren't sure exactly how to do that and if their language around race can be awkward at times. Their efforts, I believe, are sincere. Before the vote today, there was an extended dialogue on racism on the main convention floor--unprecedented in their history as they take the conversation deeper than ever before. The Twitter feed was nearly unanimous in its support for that racism discussion, with only one lone comment expressing exasperation for continued dialogue on the topic--a comment which was ignored by all the rest.

The flag resolution today took real courage, and the SBC should be commended. It will take even more courage as this resolution is implemented in churches and towns all over, as one dissenting voice warned. But they took a giant step forward today.

Those who opposed it said their opposition had nothing to do with racism. Rather, it was based on their right to express their heritage and avoid a never-ending slippery slope of political correctness where everything could potentially come under fire, including the flag of the USA which has also flown on slave ships. Removing every name and every symbol with a negative connotation would not leave much, they argued.

The transformative moment arrived when former SBC president and descendent of Confederate soldiers James Merritt spoke from the floor with leadership and presence. Noting how the flag is often a barrier for evangelization, he said, "All the Confederate flags in the world are not worth one soul of any race." I encourage you to watch it here.

* * *

Imagine you are an African-American walking through an unfamiliar neighborhood at night.

You are alone. Suddenly, a car drives alongside you and slows down. It has a Confederate flag proudly displayed in the back window, perhaps with other aggressive symbols or a gun rack. Your heart starts racing. What do you do? Should you expect to be attacked or will they offer help? You immediately go on high alert. Should you be thinking about ways to escape or defend yourself, or can you just go about your business? You are kicking yourself for being careless and roaming too far into unfamiliar territory--you promise to yourself that if you survive you won't ever go into that part of town again.

There is no luxury to leisurely ponder whether this flag is just an innocent expression of cultural heritage or whether it announces a threat. Your life may be on the line, and you have to react as if it is. You relive this trauma over and over every time you see this flag.

It is precisely in this way that the symbol is itself an act of violence--even when it is just passively hanging in a front yard or in the back of a vehicle.

That's how terrorism works. It's a constant stream of hints, taunts and outright intimidation with the goal of disorienting and destabilizing others--and ultimately limiting and controlling their behavior. It's not just the violence itself that terrorizes, but rather the environment which is saturated with constant suggestions of violence. It often comes in the form of a polite face with a sinister intent. Doubt is dizzying as folks are unsure where and when the next attack is coming and who they can trust.

It may be just an innocent expression of heritage for some folks, but think of the impact it may be having on others.

Just try to put yourselves into the shoes of an African-American person. For decades, this flag has used by the KKK and other hate groups--and continues to be used by them actively in the present day--to terrorize and intimidate an entire race of people.

When people fly that flag, they are continuing to terrorize people who have been through enough. And enough is, by definition, enough.

It's like taking someone for a ride who has just recovered from a terrible car accident and then driving recklessly at high speeds, just for laughs.

It's like inviting a veteran with PTSD over to your house and then unexpectedly setting off fireworks behind him. There is nothing inherently wrong with fireworks, and maybe your family has a long history of using them. But some sensitivity is in order! If that is truly too much to ask, then it begs the question: Why in the world is that too much to ask?

In a twisted way, racist aggression is actually a hidden compliment to black folks--for people to expend that much energy trying to keep others down, they must be completely afraid of what would happen if that other group's full power were expressed. That may be poor consolation to victims of racial terrorism, but it is worth pondering what makes so much of white America so insecure and afraid of real black power. Why else would someone spend so much effort trying to keep another race of people down? It has to be fear.

When Christians refuse to distance themselves from this flag, I have to wonder why.

If you are married, you technically have the right to wear a ring that your previous girlfriend gave you. After all, it's just a part of your heritage and history. You can put it right next to your wedding ring. You can tell your wife that it's just a symbol of the past, "just trust me." But by doing so, you are putting an incredible burden on your wife. That ring is a constant symbol of doubt about where you stand today. It belongs in the far back corner of some drawer that rarely sees the light of day. Or better yet: In a pawn shop.

I have to admit something: When people say they fly the flag just to express their "heritage," I often don't believe them. Or at the very least, I am left unsure. I suspect they could be expressing passive-aggressive racism in disguise. They may say it's not about racism, but they are doing the absolute, complete bare minimum to show that and leaving the door wide open for doubt--as I pointed out earlier, doubt itself is a weapon of terrorism. Maybe some white people are sincere and don't intend that, but whether it's intended or not, it can and does bring that consequence. When someone does the absolute minimum, it is often a form of resistance.

The flag that we refer to as the "Confederate Flag" was a minor battle flag during the Civil War and only rose to prominence afterwards as a symbol of Jim Crow and the KKK. The Confederacy had other, more official flags, and I have never seen any of them flown. Yes, this flag has also evolved over time to be a general symbol of the South, but it's real claim to fame came during Jim Crow and can no longer be separated from that. It is still one of the most popular symbols of hate groups today. It's usage as a symbol of hate and aggression is simply too extensive, too deep and covers the span of too many years. There are plenty of other flags that could be used to celebrate the history of the South that could do a more convincing job drawing a hard line between any racist connotations.

A symbol can have multiple meanings. I understand the argument that people should be able to avoid racism without having to erase their own cultural heritage in the process. But make no mistake, the history of this flag may be forever linked with white supremacist terrorist groups. It can and will bring those other associations along. It can and will continue to re-injure and re-terrorize, just like in the example above of the person walking down the street. Its usage by white hate groups for so many years means that it promotes oppression by its very presence. If you don't like that fact, then please direct your anger to the KKK and others who have tainted the symbol rather than to the people who say that enough is enough and want to put an end to it.

To those who are opposed: Please stop complaining that the "political correctness police" are taking away all your toys. You sound like little boys, and little boys need to grow up and become men. I'm sorry you feel like limiting hate speech is an unbearable burden of tyranny. The truth is you have a tremendous opportunity--such a small act can go a long way toward healing and helping a great multitude of people.

If you feel oppressed by being pressured to give up the flag, just imagine the oppression the African-American community has experienced for hundreds of years--and continues to experience. 

Little boys pout because their toys have been taken away. Grown men have broad shoulders and know they are strong enough and secure enough to ensure that expressing their rights does not come at the expense of others. The irony is that while you are worried that the political correctness police are "oppressing" you, the fact is that you are putting a tremendous burden on your neighbors and, in fact, oppressing them far worse. Let's find a better way for all. Yes, you still have the right to display that flag--but the question remains, why would you given the harm it continues to inflict?

Today, the SBC showed what mature Christians look like. Instead of focusing solely on their "rights," they made the decision that best expresses Gospel compassion, even if that means enduring tension in the community and making a sacrifice. It is, after all, a small price to pay on a long road of repentance and reconciliation. I was there and believe an historic moment took place. Energy shifted in this denomination, perhaps forever. So for all the SBC members who fear they may be losing a part of their heritage, I say: Fear not. You all did a fine job of building on that heritage today and have much more to share than ever. Congratulations!