More Than Saying You're Sorry

"Repentance means more than just saying you're sorry. 

IN JOHN 8:32, JESUS SAYS, “You will know the truth, and the truth will make you free,” which is one of those moral statements that breaks through the confusion and chaos of our lives—untruths that we believe are able to control us, dominate us, and set us on the wrong path. Untruths are burdens to bear and even can be idols that hold us captive—not allowing us to be free people who understand ourselves and the world truthfully.

The families of the victims of the Charleston church shooting last June have spoken grace and truth, and their example could inspire us to acknowledge and change the truths about race in America. Their grace will test the integrity of our truth and our response. Will we seek, tell, and respond to the truth as we go deeper in our needed new national conversation and action on racism in America?

For example, we have seen and heard painful revelations about how police—and, even more systematically, the criminal justice system—too often mistreat young men and women of color. What happened in these incidents? And are they just “incidents,” or is there a pattern here? Is there really just one criminal justice system for all of us—equally—or are there actually different systems for white Americans and for Americans of color?

Are we hiding behind untruths that help make us feel more comfortable, or are we willing to seek the truth, even if that is uncomfortable? The gospel text cited above is telling us that only by seeking the truth are we made free, and that hanging on to untruths can keep us captive to comfortable illusions.

And if the untruths are, more deeply, idols, they also separate us from God—which is, obviously, highly important for those of us who are people of faith.

The title of my new book, America’s Original Sin, is itself unsettling and, for many, provocative. We first used the phrase in a 1987 cover story in Sojourners magazine. The language of “America’s original sin” helped me understand that the historical racism against America’s Indigenous people and enslaved Africans was indeed a sin, and one upon which this country was founded. This helps to explain a lot, because if we are able to recognize that the sin still lingers, we can better understand issues before us today and deal with them more deeply, honestly, and even spiritually—which is essential if we are to make progress toward real solutions.

New York City police commissioner William Bratton acknowledged at a church breakfast in 2014 the negative role of police against African Americans throughout American history. “Many of the worst parts of black history would have been impossible without police,” Bratton said. You can imagine my surprise when he then used the language of original sin: “Slavery, our country’s original sin, sat on a foundation codified by laws enforced by police, by slave-catchers.” Bratton is no theologian or liberal academic but rather an experienced, knowledgeable, and tough cop. In fact, Bratton has been a controversial figure in New York, coming under fire for his “broken windows” policing strategy that focuses on aggressively targeting low-level offenses in order to deter more serious crime—a strategy that many say disproportionally affects people of color.

Bratton reminded fellow New Yorkers that the colonial founder of New York City, the Dutchman Peter Stuyvesant, was a supporter of the slavery system and created a police force to enforce and protect it. “Since then,” said the commissioner, “the stories of police and black citizens have been intertwined again and again.” He called the role of the NYPD sometimes “corrosive” in race relations. Bratton was talking about how the “original sin” has lingered in our criminal justice system, which is a reality that many people of color experience.

I agree with Commissioner Bratton that telling the truth about America’s original sin is the best way to deal with it and ultimately be free of it. That makes moral and practical sense. Yet the truth of systemic injustice in the past and present must also compel us to action. It remains to be seen whether Bratton’s acknowledgment of the historical issues translates into a commitment to real and ongoing reforms in how his police do their jobs.

"These are spiritual issues that speak to the lingering and, yes, evil power of America's original sin. Sin can be repented of and changed, but only when we acknowledge it for what it is.

"One of the most central lingering sins that I focus on is white privilege. I am a white man in America, and I write as a white male, a white dad, and a white Christian. For most of my adult life I lived in low-income neighborhoods that have been predominantly black. Confrontation with white racism in my childhood in Detroit and in white churches has been the primary converting experience in my own faith history. It set me on a path that has defined my understanding of faith ever since. Allies and companions in black churches and communities have been principal shapers of my direction and vocation.

"But no matter where you go as a white person in American society, no matter where you live, no matter who your friends and allies are, and no matter what you do to help overcome racism, you can never escape white privilege in America if you are white. I benefit from white privilege (and male privilege as well) every single day, and I don't have any more say in that than black men and women who experience the opposite. What white responsibility means, in the face of these benefits, is central.

"I believe truth-telling about America's original sin of racism must not be left to people of color alone. Crossing the bridge to a new America will be a multiracial task and vocation."

~ Jim Wallis, America's Original Sin - Racism, White Privilege, and the Bridge to a New America

"The Edmund Pettus Bridge was named after a Confederate general who became a Grand Dragon in the Ku Klux Klan. His name, still emblazoned over the top of that now famous bridge, was a powerful and threatening symbol of white power and supremacy in Selma, Ala. The Student Non-Violent Coordinating Committee (SNCC) had at one time removed Selma from their list of places to organize because “the white folks were too mean, and black folks were too afraid.”

But that didn’t deter a group of courageous African Americans from marching across that bridge a half-century ago, risking their lives for the right to vote in America. They were attacked and beaten by the fierce forces, led by notorious Sheriff Jim Clark, for their resistance to the frightening violence of white power.

Last Saturday, during the 50th anniversary event of “Bloody Sunday,” I spent many hours just looking at that bridge. The words that kept coming to me were “courage” and “resistance.” My question became: What bridge we will now have to cross?

Congressman John Lewis, whose skull was cracked that day as a young man, opened the main event.

“On that day, 600 people marched into history ... We were beaten, tear gassed, some of us [were] left bloody right here on this bridge. ... But we never became bitter or hostile. We kept believing that the truth we stood for would have the final say.”

Then Lewis introduced the president, “If someone had told me, when we were crossing this bridge, that one day I would be back here introducing the first African-American president, I would have said you’re crazy.”

What happened on this bridge, President Barack Obama said, “was a contest to determine the meaning of America,” and where “the idea of a just America, a fair America, an inclusive America, a generous America... ultimately triumphed.”

But soon after celebrating the heroes of that generation, Obama did an important thing: he turned from the past to the future, highlighting the ongoing struggle. I encourage you to watch his moving remarks below, which some have rightly commented were the “among his very best.”

“What greater expression of faith in the American experiment than this; what greater form of patriotism is there; than the belief that America is not yet finished, that we are strong enough to be self-critical, that each successive generation can look upon our imperfections and decide that it is in our power to remake this nation to more closely align with our highest ideals? ... It requires the occasional disruption, the willingness to speak out for what is right, to shake up the status quo. That’s America.”

After the president spoke, some of us were invited and to join him and his family in walking up the bridge with the “foot soldiers” — those who marched on the bridge that day 50 years ago. The feelings I had as I marched behind those humble and courageous heroes were almost overwhelming. All were elderly now, but still marching, some in wheel chairs.

Walking alongside people like C.T. Vivian, I felt so honored and blessed to just be in the presence of these men and women whose march changed the world. Hugging my friend John Lewis at the top of the Edmund Pettus Bridge brought joyful tears to my eyes.

There I asked myself: What bridge must the next generation now cross? I thought of my two young sons and the bridge they will need to help us cross.

Then it struck me: The next bridge is America’s transition from a majority white nation to a majority of minorities. That historic demographic shift will occur in the next few decades, and the very prospect of it is what now lies beneath the current racial tensions in America — the racial divisions over policing issues that have so visibly erupted, the opposition to immigration reform, and even the personal animosity to President Obama, who represents this enormous demographic transition.

But demographic changes in and of themselves do not create the economic and political changes racial justice requires. That takes conscious commitments, choices, and decisions. The white minority could still retain the power to dominate, govern, and try to veto the future for a long time. While demographic change is clear, it does not make positive changes inevitable. It’s possible it could just lead to greater collision and increasing racial tensions and conflicts.

Or we could cross the bridge together to a new American future.

Seeking, finding, learning, welcoming, embracing, and creating new relationships and frameworks for a richly multiracial culture, with economics and politics that reflect our diversity, is the great task before us now. I believe that will be the mission of the next generation, and I believe many will claim it. As the president said, “...it is you, the young and fearless at heart, the most diverse and educated generation in our history, who the nation is waiting to follow.”

We can resolve our current racial tensions and conflicts only by crossing the bridge to the new American future — deliberately and positively. It is time to turn the demographic revolution going on in America from a continuing crisis to an enormous opportunity."

~ 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.
  
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