Responding to “I Am A Racist” by Earl Creps

This post was scheduled for about a week ago . . . but my computer got sick. Better late than never, I suppose. . .

I read Earl Creps’ blog through my reader and always enjoy his take on life and church planting. He used to be the director of the D Min. program at the Assembly of God Seminary in Springfield, MO. He is currently living in Berkley, CA and planting a church aimed at university students–good stuff in itself for sure!! But all that aside. . . Earl wrote a post that really hit my heart this morning. He was honest enough to write what he truly thinks, and if I was honest. . . probably have some of the same experiences and thoughts.

You would do yourself a huge favor to read this post entitled “I Am A Racist–Ernie Graves and Barack Obama.” Some of the key thoughts that really resonated to me are . . .

The monstrous injustice of it all was clothed among whites with a sort of middle-class respectability. We did not consider ourselves racists because we did not burn crosses. Only fanatics did things like that. But our society was set up in a certain way and the marginalization of black people was assumed to be part of it. Overt slavery had been replaced by a sub-economy in which people unlike ourselves lived with invisible chains.

Just a month ago, Janet and I moved from Springfield, Missouri (94% Anglo) to very multi-cultural Berkeley, California to plant a university church. During the first few weeks after our move, I had to confess to my wife that I was reacting to people of different races in different ways.

Walking down the sidewalk, I felt fine if an Asian or Anglo person approached me, but experienced just a touch of elevated anxiety if that person were a black male.

This feeling disappeared in just a few days, but shocked me into recognition that racism is not someone else?s sin, it is mine. While abhorring the overt bigotry of others, my own mind can harbor the same sub-economy that my West Virginia town operated in the 1950?s.

At this point, I still think of race/ethnicity/etc. as a modifier. For instance, our friend next door is our ?Anglo? neighbor and the people across the street are our ?African American? neighbors. By God?s grace, I want to one day think of them as just neighbors and let them define themselves. When asked what kind of person constitutes a ?neighbor,? Jesus depicted a good Samaritan rescuing a robbery victim without regard for the person?s background or circumstances.

The inauguration of Barak Obama put a face on what I am feeling. Watching his speech was a moment of healing, joy, and hope for someone who remembers segregation and was a part, even unwittingly, of the system that maintained it.

But my journey toward really loving people did not begin in the Berkeley move or the inauguration of a new President so much as it did in that junior high school stairwell.

Thanks, Ernie.

I hope I can return the favor.

I have been having a really hard time this election, honestly, because I believe that sometimes the racism masks itself. Let me try to explain with some questions. What if Barack Obama were a Republican? Would Republicans make a big deal about his middle name? Would they say “well he is really not the first African American President, because he is only half black?” (By the way, is being half black being like half pregnant? You either are or you aren’t, right?) What if Barack Obama came out and was over the top Pro Life?

I am amazed at the some of the racial statements that I have heard spoken directly to me or overheard in the community as the inauguration happened. I realize that I live in Southwest MO, in the heart of the Midwest, but I have been absolutely amazed at the sheer racism displayed by some. Statements like “I know you are black, but come on, does EVERY artist on the stage have to be black?” “There are going to be ‘spinners’ now on Air Force One.” (Keeping with the ghetto theme I guess.) And almost every statement is proceeded by “I am not racist, but” or “this sounds bad, but.” Okay, if it sounds racist or bad . . . it probably is and probably shouldn’t be said!

The problem I have is that I grew up in Springfield, MO. I think there was a total of 3 or 4 blacks in my school . . . total. I just was never exposed to a lot of diversity at all growing up. It isn’t my parents fault that we lived in a primarily white community . . . just the area my mom and dad grew up and settled down to raise their family.

Then, Jenny and I moved to Oklahoma. Pretty much the same thing with a few more American Indians sprinkled in to make the percentage more like 75% white. I had a classmate that went to the seminary extension with me that ate lunch with me every Monday without fail. He happened to be black. He also taught me a lot about “the black church.” I had a much better understanding after long conversations with my good friend.

I also had another very moving week of my life while in Atlanta, GA while at the National Youth Ministers Conference and the Promise Keepers Clergy Conference. I stayed way out by the airport and rode the subway into the conference center each day. I met a man that was a missionary in Brazil that ministered in a very culturally diverse church. The clergy conference was all about racial reconciliation, especially in the Church in America. In getting to know this missionary, he said it was quite ironic that we in America have taken so long to get over the issues of our past. He also commented how sad it is that the most segregated hour in America is the worship hour each Sunday. Honestly, the really sad thing is that the conference was in 1996. . . over a decade ago, and things don’t seem to be much better.

We moved to Burleson, TX during seminary and it was a town that had a history of racism, so the percentage was almost 99% whites! There were stories of signs being under the city limit signs as late as the early 90s that said “you better have your black $%@# out of town by dark.” Not sure that is true or urban legend, but it was definitely the sentiment of many people.

I simply haven’t been in a part of the country to interact with African Americans at all . . . and I think I am less for it. No, I don’t think I am less. . . I know I am less for it!

Kudos to Dr. Creps post on racism! I too hope that I can begin to use different adjectives for the people around me besides their race or nationality. It would be nice to be able to say my good friend or neighbor, instead of my black, yellow, pink, or brown friend or neighbor.

I would hope that Dr. Seuss had it right in his 1961 book, “The Sneetches.” In the end, The Sneeches decided that it didn’t matter which kind of Sneech you were, star-bellied or non star-bellied. All that mattered is that you were a part of a larger community. I pray that we will learn to be a part of a larger community and to embrace the differences of us all–and those differences make us stronger.