Book Review: "Winning the Race to Unity"

Dietrich Bonhoeffer often wrote of the contrast between “costly grace” and “cheap grace” and the meaning of taking one’s cross as Christ commanded his disciples. Many people talk of walking as a disciple, but Bonhoeffer exposes our talk and challenges the believer to lay down one’s life for Christ.

Schuler (2003) has powerfully grappled this idea in his book, “Winning the Race to Unity: is Racial Reconciliation Really Working?” from which a strikingly similar theme emerged. It correlated well with this personal ownership of discipleship vis-à-vis our responsibility for race relations in the American church. Moreover, this ownership involves the self-sacrifice of which Bonhoeffer speaks, noting the perilous times in Nazi Germany and the extreme personal risks one took when upholding authentic Christian values in the face of tyranny. How seriously do we take our vows of discipleship? Are we willing to risk our lives?

This question of personal risk is not far off from Shuler’s radar. Unfortunately, he has identified how far off the mark Evangelicals are in breaking the barriers to racial harmony. He notes that many might claim to care about the problem, but they have “shallow intentions” in their half-hearted attempts to ask what they can do or how to help be a part of the solution (p. 53). While it might grieve many sincere Christians to read this indictment, and to a large extent I recognize this as judgment against the community of so-called Evangelicals, the sixty-four thousand dollar question is: am I culpable, and if I acknowledge my culpability am I willing to take bold steps to offer a remedy in my own sphere of influence? Where do individual believers measure up against such appalling failures? Shuler has taken the risk of offending the powerful Evangelical world by calling our bluff.

What is even more disturbing is that I am woefully fearful and ashamed to recognize that I have actually retreated from my younger idealistic philosophy of reaching out to the African American. In high school I had many black friends—not just “associates” but real friends. I used to exchange tapes of rap music with my friends (1980’s rap is much different that our modern counterpart). I was in a marching band that embraced the black culture while allowing a cross-cultural exchange in the music we performed (e.g. Top 40 tunes). Fast-forward to my “career” days and I sadly recognize my predilection to cultivate predominantly upwardly mobile relationships—typical suburban business types who made no effort to engage African Americans. The office in which I worked for over seven years had less than 1% of its workforce comprised of blacks. We got around that because we employed many Indian nationals—of course the motivation was to procure highly educated yet lower cost engineering talent. My tacit acceptance of such practices underscores much of what Shuler identified as the problem. Powerful white me excluding minorities from leadership and influence—all the while I did nothing to seek justice in this environment. I was unwilling to risk my career as an IT manager by hiring people of color or to speak out within my own authority structure and influence.

Shuler rightly states that if one is “serious about improving race relations…this effort will cost you.” He asks if our Christianity has progressed to the point of rejecting man’s approval, instead seeking God’s agenda. If we claim to be Jesus’ disciple, then it must show in our choices—to be deliberate in going beyond “passive racism” and to learn of God’s heart about racial reconciliation (pp. 73-76).

Yet Shuler also argues that mere racial reconciliation is inadequate. Our task goes beyond the organizational and community to individual relationship building. Of course our churches must be deliberate to partner with African American believers. But he challenges us as individual disciples to step out in faith to risk our reputations, careers, power and authority, and where it really hits the road—our monies/budgets—to go beyond superficial, token actions into costly work and choices. Just as Bonhoeffer argues about costly grace, so too we must take up our cross and die to ourselves—to our preferences, our pocketbooks, and our pragmatism and step into a brave world—God’s kingdom world in way that reflects beatific ideals in an unjust reality.

Now this sounds great. However, Shuler acknowledges that this is easier said than done. He strongly argues that white believers must step up to the plate and demonstrate a serious commitment to the process. “People of color know the language and priorities of the majority culture in America because of the survival dynamics of the majority/minority systems…” white believers, communities, and leaders must reciprocate by deliberately learning the “cultures and histories of people of color” to earn some credibility and show authentic, self-less commitment. Whites must discern the good times and bad times in the diverse cultures of color—to “respond to the injustices suffered in America by blacks and other non-white citizens” (p. 302). It is likely white Christians will suffer hardship and rejection; the end result will be a stronger resemblance to our Savior and His kingdom ethic (cf. Matt 5-8).

A few action items I have taken upon myself: I will read The Souls of Black Folk (W.E.B. Du Bois), which is a highly recommend twentieth century work elucidating African-American studies; I am actively building relationships with people of color in Moody Grad School; and in my role as deacon in a majority white church I hope to foster dialogue that may lead to a partnership with a sister church in our denomination in an African-American community. As I study, learn, and build relationships I pray God will break my heart over this embarrassing stigma of the American church. I know that these meager actions will not solve the big problem of racial reconciliation, but Shuler has challenged me as an individual to do my part and with God’s help I will respond.

References

Bonhoeffer, D. (1959). The cost of discipleship. New York: Simon and Schuster.

Shuler, C. (2003). Winning the race to unity: is racial reconciliation really working? Chicago, IL: Moody Publishers.

Jesus Wept. Ask yourself why.

If you ask people what’s the shortest verse in the Bible, most people would instinctively reply “Jesus wept” (John 11:35). Most English translations render this identically (the exceptions being The New Living Translation [Then Jesus wept] and the New Century Version [Jesus cried]). Now, if you ask these same people why Jesus wept it is likely that anyone who knows the story will say that Jesus was saddened at the death of Lazarus. The story itself begins at John 11:1 and unfolds to the point when Jesus commands Lazarus to come out of the tomb. It is a significant story in the public ministry of Jesus as told only by the Evangelist author of the Gospel of John.

What is the significance of John’s isolated account of this miracle? The Evangelist prefers to call Jesus’ miracles “signs,” and the resurrection of Lazarus was Jesus seventh sign. Clearly a major emphasis of this account is to demonstrate Jesus authority over death. Christ had already expressed the purpose of the event in John 11:4 saying, “This sickness will not end in death but is for the glory of God, so that the Son of God may be glorified through it.” However, as the story unfolds Jesus acknowledges that “Lazarus has died” (vs. 14). The very next verse provides the explanation: “I’m glad for you that I wasn’t there so that you may believe.”

The Evangelist wrote the Gospel for one singular purpose: “but these are written so that you may believe Jesus is the Messiah, the Son of God, and by believing you may have life in His name” (John 20:31). He stressed that Jesus’ miracles were signs of authority of God’s anointed One—the Messiah, and that Jesus came to bring life to those who believe.

Yet how is John 11:35 illuminated with respect to the purpose of the Gospel? Many commentators and preachers have long contended that Jesus was sympathizing with the mourners. They suppose that Jesus had deliberately waited until Lazarus died in order to experience the pain of their loss. Of course we find out early on that Lazarus was a friend of Jesus: “…Lord, the one You love is sick” (John 11:3). It also is true that the mourners observed Jesus’ tears and concluded that he was overcome with grief for his friend: “So the Jews said, “See how He loved him” (John 11:36).

However, some careful examination of the text is now required. First, the reader must avoid drawing conclusions on the response of the crowd. While clearly they observed Jesus’ visible emotion, the Evangelist writes a startling detail that provides more clarity:

John 11:33-34
33 When Jesus saw her crying, and the Jews who had come with her crying, He was angry in His spirit and deeply moved. 34 “Where have you put him?” He asked.

“Lord,” they told Him, “come and see.”

The Holman Christian Standard Bible renders this stronger than most translations: “He was angry.” John 11:38-39 repeats this surprising reaction from Jesus:

38 Then Jesus, angry in Himself again, came to the tomb. It was a cave, and a stone was lying against it. 39 “Remove the stone,” Jesus said.

While other translations render it as “deeply moved” or “groaned,” the translators of the HCSB followed bolder scholarship in its rendering:

“He was angry in the spirit and distressed,” has controlled German interpretation to the present day, which generally departs from it only by way of stronger expression (cf. the Zürich Bible: “Er ergrimmte im Geist und empörte sich” = “He became angry in the spirit and was disgusted”; Heitmüller, “Er ergrimmte innerlich und brachte sich in Harnisch” = “He was inwardly angry and became enraged”). Such is the interpretation followed by Bultmann, Büchsel, Strathmann, Schnackenburg, Schulz, Haenchen, and Becker in their commentaries" (Beasley-Murray, G. R. Word Biblical Commentary: John. Word Biblical Commentary. Dallas: Word, Incorporated, 2002. Page 192.)

This provides increased clarity in Jesus’ emotional state: the weeping Messiah is hard pressed to be merely in sympathy with the mourners. Moreover, he is not personally in despair over his friend; there is a deeper reason for his outburst.

Until his anger is understood his tears will likewise be shrouded from its true significance. Beasley-Murray contend that Jesus was deeply moved to anger over their disbelief in God’s anointed Messiah—the Messiah who had already demonstrated six powerful signs. “It was this unbelief of the people of God in the presence of him who is the ‘Resurrection and the Life,’ arrived among them to call their friend and brother from the grave that made Jesus angry” (Beasley-Murray, G. R. Word Biblical Commentary: John. Word Biblical Commentary. Dallas: Word, Incorporated, 2002. Page 193).

If this interpretation is correct, then his tears certainly fall in new light. Beasley-Murray stress that Jesus came to the tomb with a purpose; his purpose was not to mourn, but to glorify God as the live-giving Messiah—the authorized Messenger and Savior. At the same time it is likely that Jesus was not wholly unmoved by the sight of despair, and his tears seem to mix indignation and frustration with “grief over the tragedy of the human situation, from which not even the people of God can extricate themselves” (Beasley-Murray, G. R. Word Biblical Commentary: John. Word Biblical Commentary. Dallas: Word, Incorporated, 2002. Page 194). Thus, Jesus wept for the larger human condition and not merely for Lazarus. His anger over disbelief is balanced with grief that even those who do believe are affected by this world’s pain that results from evil.

The glory of the Gospel is that Jesus overcame death (John 20-21). This good news that Jesus preached before his Passion was fulfilled because of his Passion. Jesus willingly suffered the cross to put an end to death’s final tyranny for those who believe (“…by believing you may have life in His name” John 20:31). The author of John would not have you think Jesus wept for Lazarus, but rather for you. For those who believe he weeps when we live in ignorance of our hope. For those who do not believe he cries over their unbelief. Jesus wept. Ask yourself why.