A Tale of Two Churches

The church has been used for good and for evil; what it does today is up to us.

Preservation Hall in New Orleans

On a warm, steamy afternoon in New Orleans, I visited the Free People of Color Museum in the Treme neighborhood (shout out to my homie Trace for the great recommendation). I witnessed an expansive lecture on the life of Free People of Color—that is, those with African heritage who were not enslaved. They have a rich history in Louisiana, the state that was populated with more of them than any other state before the Civil War. As they fought for their basic dignity, they were countered by powerful colonial forces. Though the lecturer spared us this detail, I knew, as I listened, that Christianity played a powerful role in opposing the freedom and dignity of those free people of color. It is a story of the church which is all too familiar, not just as a Christian pastor, but also as a brown, queer person. Too often in history, (white) Christians and the (white) church have been the ones who not only are complicit in the oppression of marginalized people, but also the active agents doing the oppressing. I want to be a different kind of Christian, and to be honest, sometimes it feels lonely and challenging.

Imagine my delight when, at Preservation Hall, a jazz club in the French Quarter, I heard a delightful rendition of the powerful Gospel song, “His Eye Is On The Sparrow.” The leader of the band pronounced the importance that the Church had in the Black community, placing it right beside jazz as a sacred art form and genre. He said that jazz and the Church were like siblings to each other, as the pianist led us to worship in that dusty old hall. It was fitting that this old hymn was played on a Sunday and it touched me. It reminded me that for all the ill that the Church has caused, it wasn’t all bad, and that, in fact, the Gospel of Jesus Christ had also been used for good ends.

This story of two Churches is still very much true today. Christian Nationalism is the leading ideology that supports the white supremacist, fascist project ushered into the United States by the Trump Administration. Christians are responsible, in large part, for the mess we find ourselves in. I don’t say that to make you feel guilty, but rather, to raise your awareness of that fact. For my part, as a Christian pastor, it is with great shame that I acknowledge this. Even in my own short career, I have participated in harm, and I continue to learn from those regrettable and sordid mistakes. I will continue to try to do my part along with like-minded individuals to resist this great evil that surrounds us.

I am heartened, though, that I am not alone in my Christian opposition to Christian Nationalism. Not only am I surrounded by an interfaith coalition that is acting for change and actively resisting this evil, I am also partnered with many Christians, churches, and Christian organizations in doing this work. In the face of Christofascism, the church still matters and plays a role. Though our role is important, it is not exceptional. We must work hand-in-hand with the wide coalition of others, from many different faith groups, doing the same work.

Our work is then two-fold. It is essential that we repent of our complicity in harm done in the name of Jesus. We must seek the forgiveness of our Lord for these sins, and also engage in reconciliation with those we harmed or whose harm we have overlooked. For many of us, the work is deeper than reconciliation because there is no historic relationship to reconcile. In fact, we need to engage in mere conciliation, to foster new relationships with communities we’ve harmed. These communities are made of workers, people of color, migrants, women, and queer people.

The second part of our work exceeds asking for forgiveness: we need to act to right these relationships earnestly. That means we need to be on the front lines opposing Christian Nationalism, and do so in the name of Jesus Christ, our Lord and Savior. We need to commit ourselves to this work, knowing that the Church cannot and should not be spoken for by its worst actors. Not only are people’s livelihoods and dignities on the line, so is the Gospel itself.

We are unlikely to save Christianity and the Church through these actions, and that should not be our goal. More than likely, there will still be two stories of the church, and possibly even more stories than that. Unfortunately, the Church will likely continue to harm the most vulnerable people, but it doesn’t have to do just that. Those of us with softened hearts can do something different in the face of these evils. We can continue the legacy of the freedom fighters and Civil Rights leaders who worked for freedom and liberation in the name of their God. I hope you will join me in this work—that you will keep singing these songs, playing these parts, and acting for good and for hope.

Christian Nationalists don’t get the final word on our faith, just like the colonizers before them didn’t. We can still hold a liberating presence in marginalized communities and we can offer a balm to them, in addition to practical ways to express our faith in the name of peace and righteousness. There will still be two stories of the church, and I hope we continue to write the story of the Church known for its powerful witness to truth and love, far beyond jazz halls and museums that currently hold it.