October 18, 2021
Carved in Ebony
I was listening to a recent conversation with Russell Moore and David French. Late in the conversation, Dr. Moore asked whether Roe v. Wade was “dead,” and French said yes. He imagines the Supreme Court will overturn the 1973 landmark ruling that legalized abortion federally. This will be a big win for the pro-life movement, but according to French, it won’t cool the culture wars. First, because abortion will now be contested at the state level. Second, because the next big front will be CRT, or Critical Race Theory.
Living in Canada, I am not in many conversations where CRT is demonized, even discussed, but I know that in the US, disagreements about CRT and racism are dividing churches, even families. Tragically, we’ve even come to the place where we can no longer agree on empathy as virtue.
Let me say clearly: this is not a letter to wade through the complexities of racism and CRT. However, this is a letter to say this that when it comes to thinking through issues of race in America, I try following one important practice: listening to black and brown people.
I’ll never forget interviewing Esau McCaulley, along with David W. Swanson, for the ERB podcast and hearing Esau say how tired he’d grown of having his story disbelieved. “Really? That happens?” I was shocked. Then he explained that’s how it feels when people deny accounts of the black experience in America, as Josh McDowell recently did.
In a speech to the American Association of Christian Counselors, McDowell admitted the existence of racial inequities but denied any structural origins for those inequities. “I do not believe Blacks, African Americans, and many other minorities have equal opportunity. Why? Most of them grew up in families where there is not a big emphasis on education, security — you can do anything you want. You can change the world. If you work hard, you will make it.” According to McDowell, CRT, with its focus on “structural” racism “negates all biblical teaching.” He continued: “The Bible speaks individually. Make sure you get that. That’s a big difference.”
There are any number of problems with McDowell’s comments, and if you read Esau’s own writing at The New York Times, you’ll find reasons why. (McDowell himself later apologized.) But for one, it’s rarely advisable to begin a sentence, when talking about a large, diverse group of people, with “most.” Not most evangelicals or most Americans or most Canadians. Not even most high school girls.
As I’ve written about before, my brother-in-law and sister-in-law live in a neighborhood on Chicago’s West Side that was redlined during the great migration. If you’re unfamiliar with the history of redlining, here is a good primer. Chicago neighborhoods that were redlined, or deemed a higher lending and insurance risk, were denied capital investment. More than this: these neighborhoods were targeted by predatory lenders. Mortgages were designed to ensure people lost their homes. And homes, as we know, are what economists call a “transformative asset.” By losing their homes, families in neighborhoods like these lost generational wealth and the interest that wealth would have accrued. In other words, injustice suffered by one generation afflicted generations that followed.
It’s one example for the historical and structural reasons why certain neighborhoods in Chicago are full of empty lots and shuttered businesses, why fewer students graduate from high school, why the median income is less than half Chicago’s average, why the unemployment rate is far greater than the nation’s. There is sin to be found there, of course—because wherever you find humans, you’re sure to find sin. But these problems can’t only be a result of sin.
I want to hear the (multivocal) witness of black Americans to their (varied) experiences, and I think this witness matters both for healing ignorance and also inspiring empathy. It’s one reason why I’ve written this as a long lead-up to Jasmine Holmes’s forthcoming book, Carved in Ebony, which releases next month.
Here is the back cover copy:
Elizabeth Freeman, Nannie Helen Burroughs, Maria Fearing, Charlotte Forten Grimké, Sarah Mapps Douglass, Sara Griffith Stanley, Amanda Berry Smith, Lucy Craft Laney, Maria Stewart, and Frances Ellen Watkins Harper
These names may not be familiar, but each one of these women was a shining beacon of devotion in a world that did not value their lives. They worked to change laws, built schools, spoke to thousands, shared the Gospel around the world. And while history books may have forgotten them, their stories can teach us so much about what it means to be modern women of faith.
Through the research and reflections of author Jasmine Holmes, you will be inspired by what each of these exceptional women can teach us about the intersections of faith and education, birth, privilege, opportunity, and so much more. Carved in Ebony will take you past the predominantly white, male contributions that seemingly dominate history books and church history to discover how Black women have been some of the main figures in defining the landscape of American history and faith.
Join Jasmine on this journey of illuminating these women--God's image-bearers, carved in ebony
Here is my own endorsement for Jasmine’s book:
I can recommend Carved in Ebony for many reasons: its serious historical research; its vivid writing; its unflagging commitment to the gospel; its challenge to lasting racial prejudice. But let me say it most plainly. The stories of these ten black women inspire faithfulness and courage. They glimpse at what God can do when we surrender ourselves to him.
I hope you’ll preorder your copy, even gather a group to read it together! Because whatever you might think of CRT, reading books like this one matters for a conversation that’s grounded in something other than our own narrow realities.
This month, I’m also reading:
Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott
The Hidden Life of Trees by Peter Wohlleben
The Rise and Triumph of the Modern Self by Carl Trueman
Gratitude: An Intellectual History by Peter Leithart
The Art of Gathering by Priya Parker
Wintering by Katherine May
I also received my copy of Lina Abujamra’s Fractured Faith, which I endorsed. “Lina Abujamra has written bravely and hopefully in this book. As she’s rehearsed betrayals, disappointments, doubts, even her own sin, she’s asked a painfully familiar question: Where is God when the lights go out? Retracing a large swath of the biblical story, Lina reminds her readers that God uses every wound, every wilderness, for good.”
Happy reading!
Jen