The Gospel & Racism: How Does the New Testament Address Issues of Racial Discrimination & Inequality?

So in Christ Jesus you are all children of God through faith, for all of you who were baptized into Christ have clothed yourselves with Christ. There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus. (Galatians 3:26-28).

Here there is no Gentile or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and is in all. (Colossians 3:11).

If you’re an honest reader of the New Testament, and if you make an effort to come to the Scriptures with a pair of fresh eyes each time, you will notice that issues of race and racial reconciliation are at the heart of the Gospel and it’s call that we all be reconciled to God through Jesus. If you were a first century Jew or Gentile, even a casual reading of the Gospel accounts of Matthew, Mark, Luke or John would have shocked you and made you either outraged or delighted. There is nothing timid or hesitant about the way that Jesus, and then New Testament authors inspired by the Holy Spirit himself, marched unapologetically into territory that the evangelical church of our day has carefully tiptoed around – or tried to downplay.

There’s a simple reason for this bold approach: from the beginning of the big story of redemption, God’s stated intention was to bless “all peoples (races or ethnic groups) on earth” with salvation (Genesis 12:3). Racial inequality, mutual mistrust, bigotry and prejudice are so obviously at odds with God’s will for the world, which has been clearly stated from Genesis to Revelation, that these issues must be dealt with boldly – and we know this. But so often, the white evangelical response to issues of race has been, “race doesn’t matter,” “it’s not about race,” or simply to deny there’s a problem. We don’t like to be made uncomfortable. Just check with your elders and ask them what most of the white Evangelical, Protestant, or even Pentecostal churches did during the civil rights movement of the sixties. That might be an uncomfortable conversation, because the sad truth is that the majority sat primly on the sidelines with their hands folded and waited to see the outcome. Now, from a safe historical distance we can praise the sacrifices of Dr. Martin Luther King, John Lewis and other civil rights leaders of that time who put their lives on the line. But so I don’t veer off track voicing my own opinions and thoughts, let’s take a look at the Biblcial record.

We might as well start with Matthew’s gospel which, according to many Bible scholars, was written to appeal to the Jewish nation and to present Jesus as “the King of the Jews.” Before Matthew even gets into the story, however, he includes some details about Jesus’ family lineage that boldly confront attitudes of racial – and even gender – discrimination, details which are deliberately placed to present Jesus as the Savior for all peoples and races. In the first six verses, four women are named and given a place of honor in the line of Christ. Three of them come from outside the Jewish race:

– Tamar, a Canaanite woman who had been abused and then neglected by the men in her life, and who took some bold (and morally questionable) action, to preserve the family line from which Jesus comes.

– Rahab, a Canaanite prostitue who responded in faith to the God of Israel and took a significant risk to cooperate with His plan.

– Ruth, a moabite woman who immigrated to the land of Israel and became the great-grandmother of King David.

The fact that women were included in such a genealogy, which traditionally listed only fathers, would have raised eyebrows all by itself. But the fact that three out of the four came from outside the Jewish race makes a pointed statement and confronts nationalistic pride and prejudice head-on. In the very next chapter which details Jesus’ birth and earliest years, who is it but complete foreigners “from the East” who come looking for the “King of the Jews?” And these foreigners are among the first to bow down and worship Him.

It gets even better. When Jesus begins his public ministry, as Luke records it, He has some amazing good news for the poor, the oppressed and the humble, as well as some words that infuriated those who were stuck in their pride of race and nationality:

“Truly I tell you,” he continued, “no prophet is accepted in his hometown. I assure you that there were many widows in Israel in Elijah’s time, when the sky was shut for three and a half years and there was a severe famine throughout the land. Yet Elijah was not sent to any of them, but to a widow in Zarephath in the region of Sidon. And there were many in Israel with leprosy in the time of Elisha the prophet, yet not one of them was cleansed—only Naaman the Syrian.” (Luke 4:24-27).

The crowd in this small-town synagogue did not welcome the suggestion that maybe they didn’t have “most favored nation” status with God, and that the Lord had chosen instead to favor despised, undeserving gentiles with miracles of mercy. Not only did they not like it, here’s how they reacted:

“All the people in the synagogue were furious when they heard this. They got up, drove him [Jesus] out of the town, and took him to the brow of the hill on which the town was built, in order to throw him off the cliff. But he walked right through the crowd and went on his way” (v. 28-30).

Jesus didn’t make up these facts about Elijah or Elisha, or twist and misapply them to get such an extreme reaction. These stories were clearly recorded in Israel’s history, in the books of 1st and 2nd Kings. He was simply applying the antiseptic of truth to the stinking infection of nationalism and racial bigotry, and it stung. Here’s a real-life of example of Hebrews 4:12 which says “The word of God is alive and active. Sharper than any double-edged sword, it penetrates even to dividing soul and spirit, joints and marrow; it judges the thoughts and attitudes of the heart.” But why would Jesus even bother to poke around in this sore spot? In order to “see the Kingdom of God,” as He himself put it – to enter into it and fully participate in it – our blindness must be cured and barriers of racism and bigotry must be shattered, since this is a Kingdom that includes people of every race, tongue and tribe on the face of the earth. It requires a love and a loyalty that far supersede national, cultural and racial boundaries and loyalties.

Jesus chose twelve disciples, with the intention that through them and through those who would follow Him as a result of their testimony, the invitation to enter the Kingdom through repentance and forgiveness would extend to the ends of the earth. It would include all races and cultures. So He began to show them, patiently and mostly through examples and encounters, that God the Father values people of all races and cultures, and that He wasn’t impressed by patriotism and national pride.

In Matthew 8:5-12, a Roman military man – definitely not one of God’s ‘chosen people’ – comes to Jesus seeking healing for his sick servant. This man seems to understand better than most who Jesus is, and Jesus commends his faith, saying, “I have not found anyone in Israel with such great faith.” Jesus then goes on to say that “many will come from the east and the west and take their places at the feast in the kingdom of heaven,” while those who assumed they were guaranteed a spot because of their race and nationality would actually miss out. Can you see how uncomfortable this would have made all those patriotic Israelites in the crowd? Do you see the point Jesus is making here, the foundation he is laying for the Gospel to all peoples and races, with no second-class citizens? He is clearly condemning nationalism and racism, but we have typically glossed over these Gospel accounts and missed the point.

In Matthew 15:21-28, things get even more awkward. Jesus has deliberately withdrawn from Jewish territory, along with his disciples (who still have a lot to learn), into a gentile area where they would have been really uncomfortable. And sure enough, a Canaanite woman recognizes them and approaches Jesus. In his account, Matthew deliberately uses the old-fashioned word “Canaanite” to highlight this woman’s non-Jewish, pagan background and that she was a descendant of Israel’s enemies. She calls Jesus ‘Lord’ and ‘Son of David’. Once again, here is someone from the wrong race who understands Jesus’ identity better than His own people do. And Jesus is about to expose the disciples’ ugly but just-under-the-surface racism to the clear light of day… He appears to ignore the woman completely, but she’s not giving up. She follows Jesus and the disciples and keeps crying out for help. The disciples are getting annoyed that this icky gentile woman won’t leave them alone:

“Lord, send her away because she’s bothering us with all her noise.” So Jesus turns around and says, “I was only sent to the lost sheep of Israel.” The disciples are probably thinking, if not saying under their breath, “Damn straight! You tell her, Lord!”

Now the woman comes and kneels in front of Him. “Lord, help me!” Jesus allows the tension to build. It’s about to get worse.

“It’s not right to take the children’s bread and toss it to the dogs.”

Wait… did Jesus really say that!? At this point the disciples and anyone else around probably froze. This has gone beyond awkward. What is happening here? Jesus is saying out loud, in words everyone can hear, what the disciples were thinking. He is exposing the ugliness of their racism in broad daylight. Hopefully they felt some shame. And maybe – I don’t know – Jesus is winking at the woman to say, ‘just play along with me here.’ The woman rises to the occasion with her witty answer: “OK Lord, but even the ‘dogs’ get the crumbs that fall from the table!”

It is clear that Jesus never viewed her as a gentile dog. He now addresses her with complete respect (the word ‘woman’ was a term of respect like madam, or ma’am). Jesus commends her faith and grants her request. And He probably gave the disciples a long look in the eye. The fact that this incident is recorded in Matthew’s Gospel tells us that it was one of those encounters that marked Jesus’ followers and stayed with them.

There are other striking examples of Jesus crossing racial and social boundaries to interact with individuals who would have been rejected by the ‘good’ religious people of His day, like the Samaritan woman in John chapter four. And then there’s Peter in Acts chapter ten, when the Lord sends him to the home of a gentile named Cornelius who is hungry to know God. It only took a vision, repeated three times, as well as God’s direct voice, to get him to go. And after he goes, the other church leaders are outraged that he actually ate and slept in the home of a gentile… Racism is a stubborn thing. But I’m not writing a Bible commentary and this essay is already getting long, so let me jump ahead to the Apostle Paul’s letter to the Galatians – a group of non-Jewish believers. Paul recounts a confrontation he had with Peter over the issue of racism and the Gospel. Let’s just call it racism in the church.

“When Cephas [ Peter] came to Antioch, I opposed him to his face, because he stood condemned. For before certain men came from James, he used to eat with the Gentiles. But when they arrived, he began to draw back and separate himself from the Gentiles because he was afraid of those who belonged to the circumcision group. The other Jews joined him in his hypocrisy, so that by their hypocrisy even Barnabas was led astray.

When I saw that they were not acting in line with the truth of the gospel, I said to Cephas in front of them all, “You are a Jew, yet you live like a Gentile and not like a Jew. How is it, then, that you force Gentiles to follow Jewish customs?” (Galatians 2:11-14).

At this point in the history of the New Testament church and it’s growth, the Gospel was spreading through the Apostle Paul and others across the Roman Empire. Antioch was the first primarily non-Jewish center of believers in Jesus, and it became a missionary church from which Paul and others were sent out with the Gospel. The believers in Jerusalem and Judaea were culturally Jewish, and still followed many Jewish religious customs. The gentile believers in Antioch did not follow these customs, and were most likely looked down upon by the Jerusalem crowd. At some point, the Apostle Peter spends time in Antioch with Paul and other leaders, teaching the new believers. It’s great, everyone eating together, sharing life in Jesus across racial and cultural barriers – even erasing those barriers. Until some big-wigs from Jerusalem come down to Antioch to check things out… Peter is intimidated, afraid of being judged or criticized, so he begins to act differently. He withdraws from the Gentiles at meals and starts eating only with his old Jewish crowd who are still following their old religious customs. It’s a passive move, he’s trying to avoid conflict. He’s not being aggressively racist, not referring to the Gentile believers as ‘dogs,’ nothing openly offensive like that, and hopefully no jokes at their expense. But his behavior signals that the Gentiles are second-class citizens of whom he’s ashamed, and the Apostle Paul, who has been laying down his life to bring the Good News of Jesus to these people, will have none of it. He confronts Peter to his face in front of eveyone, because this is vitally important. If God plays favorites based on race, culture, and observance of religious laws, then the Gospel isn’t the Gospel anymore. Paul calls out Peter’s racist behavior as not being in line with the truth of the Gospel, and he doesn’t care if it makes some people uncomfortable!

The Good News of Jesus, at its very root, is and must always be anti-racist. It is not silent or passive about this issue. The Aposlte Paul understood this and he wasn’t afraid to confront even a mild expression of racism – because if he let it slide, then the Gospel, the very truth of God, is undermined. And here’s the sad truth: the Gospel of Jesus Christ and its credibility has been undermined repeatedly and continually in America, because we let racism slide in the church and in society as a whole, in the dubious interest of keeping the peace or not offending anyone. The only ones who are not offended when we keep silent are the ones who need to be offended. And how do you think those who continue to suffer the indignities of racism – whether subtle or overt – feel about it when the rest of us stay silent or try to sidestep the issue? And what conclusions might they draw about the track record of the evangelical church?

Here’s a brief excerpt from an article by Justin Taylor from The Gospel Coalition blog:

But it does seem self-evident that, in the main, white evangelicals—particularly those in the South—were deeply invested in efforts to either uphold Jim Crow or to try to slow down its dismantling. While a previous generation of historians suggested this was symptomatic of “cultural captivity,” I’m not so sure. In fact, in many cases, it seems that evangelical theology—or at least distorted models of it—were part of the reason segregationist beliefs and structures took shape the way they did. The unfortunate reality isn’t that evangelical theology in the South was muted when it came to racial justice, it’s that it was actively used to undermine justice and to perpetuate a demonic system. And that’s the cruelest historical irony of it all: those who loved the “old rugged cross” were often also those who torched crosses in protest of desegregation.

(https://www.thegospelcoalition.org/blogs/evangelical-history/a-conversation-with-four-historians-on-the-response-of-white-evangelicals-to-the-civil-rights-movement/).

As sad as this is, I think it’s even sadder that much of the white evangelical world has never reckoned with its history regarding racism, or openly addressed it. The church has just tried to distance itself from this miserable past and move on, with feeble attempts to appear inclusive and up-to-date, without really confronting expressions of racism within its ranks with sound theology – or sound rebuke – as the Apostle Paul did in his day. What’s my point here? It’s this: If there was ever a time to speak up against racism – especially when we hear it or see it – it’s now. Failure to do so undermines the credibility of our faith and message, and even more, undermines the dignity of human beings as made in the image of God. It’s time – it’s well past time – to take this issue seriously.