A Pastoral Letter To White Americans

The sto­ries of young black men being killed by white police are spark­ing a nation­al con­ver­sa­tion. However, pub­lic respons­es to these painful sto­ries reveal an alarm­ing racial divide. From an unarmed teenag­er killed in Ferguson, Missouri; to a 12 year-old boy shot dead in Cleveland; to a white police offi­cer on video chok­ing a black man to death in New York City; and a star­tling series of sim­i­lar sto­ries from across the coun­try and over many decades — our reac­tions show great dif­fer­ences in white and black per­spec­tives. Many white Americans tend to see this prob­lem as unfor­tu­nate inci­dents based on indi­vid­ual cir­cum­stances. Black Americans see a sys­tem in which their black lives mat­ter less than white lives. That is a fun­da­men­tal dif­fer­ence of expe­ri­ence between white and black Americans, between black and white par­ents, even between white and black Christians. The ques­tion is: Are we white peo­ple going to lis­ten or not?

White Americans talk about how hard and dan­ger­ous police work is — that most cops are good and are to be trust­ed. Black Americans agree that police work is dan­ger­ous­ly hard, but also have expe­ri­enced sys­temic police abuse of their fam­i­lies. All black peo­ple, espe­cial­ly black men, have their own sto­ries. Since there are so many sto­ries, are these real­ly just iso­lat­ed inci­dents? We lit­er­al­ly have two crim­i­nal jus­tice sys­tems in America — one for whites and one for blacks. Are there police uses of force that are under­stand­able and jus­ti­fi­able? Of course there are. If our soci­ety was­n’t steeped in a gun cul­ture, many of these shoot­ings could be avoid­ed. But has exces­sive, unnec­es­sary, lethal force been used over and over again, all across the coun­try, with white police killing unarmed black civil­ians? Yes, it has, and the evi­dence is over­whelm­ing. But will we white peo­ple lis­ten to it? Will white par­ents try to imag­ine how it would feel to have “the talk,” to tell their own chil­dren that they should­n’t trust those who are sup­posed to serve and pro­tect them? That’s hard to lis­ten to, hard to hear, hard to rec­og­nize the legit­i­ma­cy of oth­er par­ents’ expe­ri­ences when they are so dif­fer­ent from your own. It’s time to lis­ten — for us white Americans to lis­ten to black Americans; for white par­ents to lis­ten to black par­ents; for white Christians to lis­ten to black Christians. This may be the most impor­tant thing we have ever had to do: to lis­ten, real­ly listen.

Do we believe what we say about the uni­ty of “the body of Christ” or not? In the New Testament, 1 Corinthians 12 speaks of one body with many members.

For just as the body is one and has many mem­bers, and all the mem­bers of the body, though many, are one body, so it is with Christ.… For the body does not con­sist of one mem­ber but of many… As it is, there are many parts, yet one body… that there may be no dis­cord in the body, but that the mem­bers may have the same care for one anoth­er. If one mem­ber suf­fers, all suf­fer togeth­er; if one mem­ber is hon­ored, all rejoice togeth­er. (RSV)

Another ver­sion of 1 Corinthians 12:26 trans­lates, “If one part suf­fers every part shares its suf­fer­ing.” What would it mean to share in the suf­fer­ing of our broth­ers and sis­ters of col­or who suf­fer from a racial­ized crim­i­nal jus­tice sys­tem? Racial rec­on­cil­i­a­tion is a com­mit­ment at the heart of the gospel. If we say we belong to Christ, that mis­sion of rec­on­cil­i­a­tion is ours too. What does racial rec­on­cil­i­a­tion mean now in the face of America’s racial divide over polic­ing and the crim­i­nal jus­tice sys­tem? Let’s get prac­ti­cal. If you have African Americans at your work­place or at your church, ask them to please talk to you about this, to tell you their sto­ries — then lis­ten. If you don’t have any black or oth­er mem­bers of col­or in your church, it’s time to ask why. Reach out — and ask your pas­tor to reach out — to black and Hispanic church­es in your com­mu­ni­ty or city. We must find safe and authen­tic ways to hear each oth­ers’ sto­ries, across the racial bound­aries of our church­es. Reach out sen­si­tive­ly to black par­ents at your chil­dren’s schools. Ask to hear their sto­ries. Talk to the black par­ents of your chil­dren’s class­mates and team­mates. Or maybe it’s time to real­ize not hav­ing chil­dren of col­or at your chil­dren’s school or on their teams is a big part of the prob­lem. Parents talk­ing to par­ents and hear­ing each oth­ers’ sto­ries may be the most impor­tant key to mov­ing for­ward in the church and in the nation. White peo­ple need to stop talk­ing so much, stop defend­ing the sys­tems that pro­tect and serve them, and stop say­ing “I’m not a racist.” If white peo­ple turn a blind eye to sys­tems that are racial­ly biased, we can’t be absolved from the sin of racism. Listen to the peo­ple the crim­i­nal jus­tice sys­tem fails to serve and pro­tect; try to see the world as they do. Loving our neigh­bors means iden­ti­fy­ing with their suf­fer­ing, meet­ing them in it, and work­ing togeth­er to change it. And, for those of us who are par­ents, lov­ing our neigh­bors means lov­ing oth­er peo­ple’s kids as much as we love our own.

Jim Wallis is pres­i­dent of Sojourners. His book, The (Un)Common Good: How the Gospel Brings Hope to a World Divided, the updat­ed and revised paper­back ver­sion of On God’s Side, is avail­able now.