An Open Letter to Church Leaders in America:
I’ve spent all of my life in church, although I didn’t become a Christian until I was 19. For that, I’ll always be grateful. I’ve had highs and lows, but I wouldn’t trade it for the world (quite literally). I’m also grateful for ministers.
It’s a hard calling.
In your imperfections, you have to continuously point people back to God. In many ways, your life is a public spectacle: every strength and victory magnified; every weakness and loss underscored. Many of you (although there are notable exceptions) earn a very, very modest living. Honestly, it’s a thankless job (Matthew 6:19-21; Matthew 23:11); people feel entitled to things from you, and that’s in addition to the many things you do behind the scenes to be selfless, sacrificial, and generous to both the church and the world at large.
And I’m grateful for your sacrifice.
Admittedly, though, I’d like to call you all higher, in love. I think a lot of churches in America are missing the mark. I distill my present thoughts for this essay into 2 points.
THE OUTSIDE OF THE CUP
I’ve always kind of felt like churches, as organizations, wrestle with this. It’s impression management 101. No organization, anywhere, relishes in sharing information about themselves that undermine their reputation. In fact, that would almost be antithetical. Fortune 500 companies don’t want to have a reputation for running sweatshops or polluting the environment. Political parties don’t want a reputation for controversial scandals. Sports teams don’t want to have a reputation for cheating. Fraternities and sororities don’t want a reputation for hazing and abusing members. This is a general phenomenon, and the pattern holds for religious organizations, like churches, as well.
Organizations, and their leaders, go to great lengths to maintain a positive organizational reputation. This allows for members to feel more positively about their membership (whether with a company, a political party, a sports team, a fraternity/sorority, or a church), and on some level, it helps the organization to maintain legitimacy in society at large (ie. “this organization does good,” or at a minimum, “this organization doesn’t do bad,”). Periodically though, organizations make mistakes… and when they do, they usually try and take care of things “in house” without drawing too much attention to the matter. Sometimes though, there’s a big slip up, in which case people outside the organization know things have gone sideways (consider the case of a fraternity in the headlines for hazing). In these types of instances, given the matter is public, organizational leaders usually have to do damage control.
There’s nothing new here… none of this is out of the ordinary or unusual. But this does bring us to a potential challenge, particularly for contemporary Christianity (maybe some other religions, too).
Even though this notion of impression management has the potential to be really, really good for business (I use that term loosely, so don’t read into it), it lacks a certain level of authenticity… authenticity that people both in the organization, and outside of the organization, come to expect.
This is where I think there’s a really big disconnect between American churches and society at large; this disconnect is easy to see as churches engage with religious persons (members or non members), and certainly as they engage with their non-religious counterparts. Many people in America, including some of the Christians in your congregations, feel like church is a farce: a theatrical presentation… a performance… in other words, it’s not real. It desperately lacks authenticity. As a minister, you may be inclined to say that’s because of hypocrisy, but I would characterize the lack of authenticity more broadly as a systemic issue.
For what it’s worth, churches aren’t alone in facing this criticism of inauthenticity.
For instance, people think the American government is a farce (trust in the American government has been waning for decades). People have similar thoughts about the legal system (i.e. a good lawyer can get you out of almost anything, even if you’re guilty), the criminal justice system (i.e. we’ve seen many videos circulating of questionable police practices), the education system (i.e. the “business” of higher education has straddled millions of Americans in debt), the financial system (i.e. predatory lending was instrumental in the 2008 financial crisis), and so on and so forth.
So, yes, it’s perfectly normal for religious organizations to be facing similar obstacles with inauthenticity, in light of this.
People want churches to be authentic, and in my opinion, I think the church has failed its members, and society at large, spectacularly in that regard. Although this newfound yearning for authenticity is probably beyond the scope of full discussion here, I will say that many of the institutions (including Christian religion) that previous generations in American society have maintained an unwavering commitment to, this generation of American society views with increasing skepticism; the above paragraph perfectly illustrates that. It’s likely a natural consequence of living in one of the most educated societies in the world. Christians today are much smarter, and have access to a lot more information, than they did 50, 40, or even 30 years ago. In light of this, it’s no wonder people view these institutions more cautiously, including churches: we know way more about these institutions, and their history, than we did previously… and you don’t need to be a wealthy or upper class American to be well read on some of these topics. So, yes, people, even Christians, can view churches with a bit more skepticism. In the extreme, churches are seen as lacking the level of sincerity that would warrant trust, even among some Christians.
It can seem a bit peculiar when the church doesn’t really speak to biological sciences, reproductive or otherwise, in light of past statements that have been made that aren’t really consistent with research.
It can seem strange when you’ve learned and read about the many, many atrocities committed by the church in the last 400 years (towards gender minorities, towards racial minorities, towards ideological adversaries, and more), and your church has never said a single word about any of these quagmires (We’ll come back to this point in a second).
It can seem perplexing when you talk about how diverse your congregation is, but amidst growing racial tension, you talk about being colorblind (those statements are paradoxical, by the way).
Honestly, it’s just kind of baffling.
But on some level, it makes sense… churches want to be viewed positively, after all. That’s impression management. And the consistent theme across the examples I highlighted (and more), is that they all represent situations where the church may end up being viewed in less favorable ways, and for most organizations, that’s bad for business. The flip side is, over time, if it seems like there’s an overt attempt to suppress anything that has the potential to shake people’s view of the church, it comes off as really inauthentic. It’s manufactured. It’s cosmetic. It’s dishonest. And in case you were wondering, perceived inauthenticity is bad for business, too. The result is people are disenchanted. It comes off as a farce. A charade. A performance.
I’ll highlight with an example from my own life, although I know I’m not alone in my thinking or experience by any stretch.
Almost every injustice that I know of the church committing in the last 400 years of history, I had to learn about OUTSIDE of church. Somehow, I just find that really ironic… and I don’t mean that in a good way. I think it’s part of the lack of authenticity I mentioned earlier (although I’ll acknowledge there are other reasons, too).
I had to find out outside the church that European Imperialist sailed across the ocean, landed on the shores of Africa, and told those men and women they were more like Satan because their skin was dark and people from Europe were more like God because their skin was light.
I had to find out outside the church that slave masters across the Americas told their slaves to work for free, and accept their subjugation, oppression, and abuse, because their treasure is in heaven and they could only get to heaven with a hard day’s work.
I had to find out outside the church that American churches in the 1900’s advocated discrimination against Black families by promoting redlining by banks, even though that practice was illegal as early as the 1880’s (Lincoln outlawed this; the issue was it wasn’t enforced until the 1960’s).
I had to find out outside the church that scientists were accused of heresy, and subsequently burned at the stake, for making scientific arguments that church leaders disagreed with (like the Earth revolves around the sun, which, 400 years later, we know is 100% TRUE).
I had to find out outside the church that during the Spanish Inquisition, and the Roman Inquisition, the church was a proponent of the monarchy’s systematic genocide of other religious and ethnic groups if they did not get baptized (including Jews, which is painfully ironic).
I think this will suffice, although I could make similar points on women and LGBT persons.
For me, although this was sad to learn about, I also found the experience liberating. No longer was I cowering and bathing in ignorance. I was confronting important truths. I felt empowered.
You have to wonder though, what are the odds I had to learn about every, single one of these outside of church? Coincidence? Absolutely not.
I’ll illustrate with another example.
If I’m in a relationship with a woman, there’s A LOT of pressure to just share the things about myself that I’m proud of. I want her to like me, after all.
But there’s a problem with that… there are lots of things about myself that I may not be particularly proud of. As we advance our relationship, she needs to know the truth. I want her to know the whole me. After all, if she has to learn negative things about me, I wouldn’t want her to hear it from someone else. I’m sure I don’t have to mention that some people who share negative things about me may have a vested interest in making me look bad, for any number of reasons. So, whatever things I may not be proud of, I need to take it on the chin and own it.
If I have a history of alcoholism, I would want her to hear that from me.
If I cheated on my last girlfriend, I would want her to hear that from me.
If I have a criminal record, I would want her to hear that from me.
I mean, rather me than someone else, right?
But what if she doesn’t hear about it from me… 2, 3, 4, 5 years go by, and I haven’t said a word about any of the stuff I think doesn’t paint me in a positive light. What would happen if she’s walking down the street, she finds this person who knows me, and they give her the scoop?
Honestly, she would probably feel betrayed. She would probably feel hurt. She would probably feel manipulated: like I tried to keep the truth from her in order to control her behavior. I think the Bible talks about keeping things in the light for this very reason (I John 1:7; John 3:21; Ephesians 5:8-9). When you don’t keep things in the light, it’s easy for Satan to get a foothold and make the situation something that it isn’t.
Since WW2, one of the things Germany has been somewhat commended for is owning their history. The Holocaust represents one of the greatest, if not the greatest, crime against humanity of the 20th century. But it’s in the German museums… it’s throughout their textbooks… I imagine it would be hard to come up in Germany and say, “Wow, I didn’t even realize the Holocaust happened… I should try and look into that.”
You’re probably wondering what Germany’s approach to its history has to do with churches in America… admittedly, American churches weren’t directly involved in the Holocaust, but they were certainly involved in the genocide of Native Americans and the proliferation of White Supremacy (slavery included), which we still deal with to this day. Beyond that, in the 1900’s, the church’s endorsement of theories of biological inferiority (like Eugenics, which motivated Hitler’s genocide of the Jews) further marred the church’s embarrassing track record on race relations. All that to say, church history in America definitely is not the same as the Holocaust, but we’d both be lying if we said there weren’t similarities.
But here’s the distinction from Germany in the aftermath of the Holocaust: the church has been SO EFFECTIVE in impression management that we have many, many Christians cowering and bathing in ignorance, including some church leaders. I mean, there are millions of Christians across the country that have no idea that not only was the church complicit in the oppression of millions of Americans throughout American history, the church was an adamant supporter of their oppression at various points of history.
To say the church doesn’t get involved in matters of social justice is categorically false (to say the plight or suffering of marginalized individuals isn’t a Biblical matter would also be false, although that’s a different conversation). If you don’t feel equipped, say you don’t feel equipped. If you don’t understand, say you don’t understand. If you don’t care, say you don’t care. If you don’t think it’s your job, say you don’t think it’s your job. If you don’t think you’re paid enough, say you don’t think you’re paid enough. But don’t sit up here and misrepresent the last 500 years of church history. That’s a slap in the face to everyone who’s ever experienced systematic injustice at the hands of the church, including Jews, who we read about throughout the Bible.
That rhetoric comes off as exploitative, disingenuous, and ignorant of history. To me, it’s an embarrassment.
This point was motivated by a scripture in the Gospel where Jesus rebukes the religious leaders. He called them whitewashed tombs (Matthew 23: 27-28), because they were mostly interested in their appearance, even if who they were on the inside wasn’t anything like what they tried to show on the outside. Honestly, I think this is important for our conversation. I think most diverse churches love bragging about how diverse they are, but they don’t really want any of the problems that come with it. They love saying on their website that their church is multicultural, and putting pictures of people from different racial groups all over their webpage, and having their international potlucks and international church services, but to be candid, most American churches have never, ever acknowledged the countless acts of systematic injustice throughout church history… never mind talking about the police or government. Most American churches won’t even mention systematic injustice perpetrated in the name of Christianity. And honestly, that’s kind of central to Christian history.
We live in the most educated society in the world, and information has never been as accessible, and affordable, as it is presently. You’re kidding yourself if you think you can continue the charade of impression management.
If there’s a widespread ignorance on how the church has sought to oppress groups in the past, it’s no wonder, then, that many American Christians, including church leaders, have great difficulty finding the connection between the suffering the church orchestrated in the past and the church’s complicity in injustice in the present. If we’re satisfied with how diverse we are, all we’re doing is dressing up the outside of the cup. America’s really diverse… but somehow, I don’t think God is impressed with that. God cares about the INSIDE of the cup. He wants us to do the hard work… and the hard work is cleaning the inside of the cup, not dressing up the outside of the cup. In the same passage, Jesus also makes a point on prioritizing, too. You clean the inside first and the outside second.
Be honest about history. Part of the reason we’re in this situation, I think, is because you put Christians under the impression that the church is much better than it actually is. If people knew more about the unflattering aspects of church history, somehow, I’m doubtful they would be so unwilling to entertain a conversation about current oppression, prejudice, or discrimination, in the church or society at large.
As a final thought, there’s a scripture that says that nobody comes unless they’re drawn by the Father (John 6:44). I’m concerned church leaders believe something more along the lines of, nobody comes unless I avoid talking about all the bad things that the church has done.
Is that living in the light? Is that being a child of the light? If you believe God is truth, why do you have that knee jerk reaction to putting things in the light? I know we can’t all be historians. I know we can’t all be scientists. I know that nobody has answers to every question. But you can be honest. And that’s something I feel most American church leaders have been unwilling to do. That, or they’re disinterested.
This is a call to do better.
That leads me to my second point.
HONEST CRITICISM
A lot of organizations wrestle with criticism. Churches are no different… I mean, on the one hand, one might think religious people are supposed to be friendly, humble, and egalitarian, so maybe they’d be more open to criticism… on the other hand, religion also has this moral component of right and wrong, so it can make criticisms, on some level, all the more divisive and explosive. This is perfectly underscored by the fact that the church used to burn scientists at the stake because their views differed from those held by the church.
To be clear, this isn’t a new problem.
Social scientists have been studying group processes for a long, long time. One of their conclusions is people don’t like criticism from outside their group, even if it’s 100% correct. It feels like an attack.
But here’s the thing.
Criticism doesn’t always come from somebody outside of your group. It also could, and SHOULD, come from people in your group. Here’s the kicker though: with the church, a lot of times, when people are critical, (1) it’s assumed that they’re an outsider or (2) they’re not as invested as other insiders.
That’s so unflattering and off-putting to me.
I’m almost 30. There’s nothing flattering, or attractive, or appealing, about voluntarily being a part of something where constructive criticism is taboo. How would you feel about being in a marriage where you could never offer any honest, respectful criticism? I mean, every week, Wednesday and Sunday, your partner has input for you. But anytime you offer them hard feedback, they look at you like you’re about to walk out of the marriage… or you’re not an invested partner… or that you’re not grateful for all the things they’re doing right, because of what you shared they need to grow in.
That reflects, to me, a deep immaturity. It’s not supposed to be that way.
Ironically though, that’s where I find myself. I have, regularly, written on my blog for the last 3 years on topics related to inequality and injustice, both inside and outside of the church… admittedly, I usually have very pointed criticisms of 21st Century American Christianity in these areas… and rightfully so, for all the reasons I’ve discussed here, and many more, American churches have not performed well in these areas… but somehow, I suspect that some can take my criticisms as ‘religious drifting’. Indeed, that’s what’s most likely to happen when you go off to a secular institution and pursue a PhD, they would say. But never mind the fact that Jesus, frequently, had tough and honest criticism for the religious folks during His time (revisit my point where He called the religious leaders whitewashed tombs)… He didn’t see the need to perform and show his commitment by withholding important criticisms… He showed He was invested with the manner in which He lived his life, in spite of the qualms He had with religious persons who were missing the mark.
We need to normalize this.
Sometimes, it’s the people who care the most that are MOST CRITICAL. Frequently though, we assume that people that are the most critical are the opposition… they’re the enemy… we make them the bad guy. I’m all too aware of this as a scientist. A couple of centuries ago, the church burned people like me at the stake, because my views were too different from the views they held. That’s probably further underscored by the fact that I’m a Black scientist… I could be burned at the stake because of my scientific views, because I was black, or both. While it’s unlikely, for churches today to burn me at the stake physically, there are certainly lots of other things, like ostracism or exclusion or being slandered, that are less dramatic but still act to penalize deviant persons.
All this because there isn’t a norm of criticism.
I love what I do. As a PhD student, and behavioral scientist, every day I generate and test theories to investigate and better understand human behavior. As cool as that is to me, I’m reminded during these times that society at large, the church included, needs people like me for guidance. Scientists play a vital role in society. We advise Presidents. We consult with industry. We partner with leaders around the world to tackle societies most pressing challenges. And for the most part, we do all of this, behind the scenes, because we deeply enjoy what we do and we think our work is important. I’ve been afforded the opportunity to earn my PhD at one of the most highly esteemed universities in the country, partnering in research with some of the most brilliant scholars of our generation. I say that to say, I have a professional and moral obligation to society at large, and perhaps the church in particular, to help us to do better and be better, and that will almost always involve hard, honest criticism. But I can’t shy away from that criticism. If anything, I only regret waiting as long as I did to share what was on my heart to say.
In love,
Nnam’