Public Theology is based on the work of Zach W. Lambert, Pastor of Restore, an inclusive church in Austin, Texas. He and his wife, Amy Lambert, contribute to and moderate this account. Zach’s first book, Better Ways to Read the Bible, is now available wherever books are sold.
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In 2017, a film called First Reformed was released. It stars Ethan Hawke as a small town minster in upstate New York named Reverend Toller who tries to shepherd his tiny church while battling with despair from the state of the world and from his own past.
The only reason his tiny church can continue paying his salary is because it’s sponsored by a large megachurch just up the road, pastored by Reverend Joel Jeffers (played perfectly by Cedric the Entertainer).
It’s not what I would call a feel good movie. It’s dark, but it is one of those films that really makes you think, and it’s stayed with me all these years. There’s a scene in which Reverend Toller is sitting across from Esther, an employee at the megachurch that sponsors Toller’s congregation and pays his salary. He is deep in the throes of despair for a number of reasons and Esther asks what’s wrong. He tries to shrug her off but she continues to press him, listing possible reasons for his depressed state.
This is when you find out that Reverend Toller and Esther previously dated, which is explicitly against the rules of the church. Esther asks, “Is that what’s wrong? You think what we did together was a sin?”
Reverend Toller looks up and says, “No. I’ve seen enough real sin to know the difference.”
That line has stuck with me more than almost any other from a movie in the last decade. It comes to mind every time I hear people elevating some man made understanding of morality and completely ignoring injustice and oppression in their midst.
It comes to my mind when I think back on the church of my childhood where the pastor would constantly yell from the pulpit about the deterioration of our society because of “sinful” things like rock music or Disney movies or the lack of prayer in schools. All the while, unbeknownst to most people in the congregation, the denomination we were a part of was actively covering up hundreds of cases of abuse by clergy.
I look back on that and I think, “I've seen enough real sin to know the difference.”
The word “sin” can elicit a lot of feelings within us. It’s a word that has been weaponized by power hungry churches and Christians, so much so that many of us have physical reactions to just hearing the word. But it’s important for us to understand what scripture says about sin— the concept behind the word rather than the weaponized version we often see— and we have to look broadly at the narrative of Scripture in order to do so, specifically at the life of Jesus.
When we’re reading scripture with open eyes rather than looking for proof texts, we see that what angered Jesus the most was the use of power, privilege, and religion to hurt people rather than help them, to oppress people rather than liberate them.
This is true on an individual level, but it’s also true on a corporate level. We call corporate sin systemic sin. Systemic sin exists because the people who use power, privilege, and religion to hurt people don’t exist in a vacuum. Many of them have been a part of purposefully building sinful systems and structures in order to oppress others for their own advancement.
For example, if an individual is racist, they have the power to hurt other individuals based on their skin color. For example: they give dirty looks, use racial slurs, and may even attack someone because of their skin color, and all of that is deplorable.
But what if that same person is in charge of constructing laws? Or building companies? Or writing policies? That’s a completely different level of power, right? If a group of racist people create a bunch of laws, companies, and policies, what are those laws, companies, and policies going to be? Racist.
And what happens if all of those people die and decades go by and society progresses to become much less racist overall, but those laws aren’t changed? Or if some of the policies get changed, but not all of them? Or if the businesses have new leaders, but the structures underneath them remain the same? The original people who chose the sin of racism are long gone, but the sinful systems and structures remain intact.
And lest you think this is just some theoretical exercise, this is exactly what has happened in our country and in many of our churches, and not just regarding race. The people who chose to sinfully use their power, privilege, and religion to hurt people rather than help them built a whole lot of systems and structures that are still in existence today, and these systems and structures continue yielding unequal outcomes based on age, race, gender, socioeconomic status, sexual orientation, disability, citizenship status, and more.
So the question becomes:
As followers of Jesus, what do we do about these harmful systems and structures that are actively hurting those around us?
This is not an easy question to answer in our cultural moment, especially considering that professing Christians believe very different things about systemic sin. Some think that we shouldn’t get involved; we should just let God handle it. Others think we should burn every system and structure to the ground and start over completely. And others deny that systemic sin exists at all.
First of all, systemic sin does exist, that’s not up for debate, no matter how much some may choose to argue.
Privilege aborts justice, leading judicial systems, power structures, and governments to treat a person or group preferentially—with more compassion and dignity than others—because of their citizenship, class, surname, social capital, sexual orientation, religion, or an aspect of their embodiment (race, gender, ethnicity, able-bodiedness, attractiveness, and more).
Dominique DuBois Gilliard
We can see this no matter which direction we look, especially in our current political climate. In her seminal book, Caste, Isabell Wilkerson compares America to an old house with both beauty and brokenness within her walls.
Not one of us was here when this house was built. Our immediate ancestors may have had nothing to do with it, but here we are, the current occupants of a property with stress cracks and bowed walls and fissures built into the foundation. We are the heirs to whatever is right or wrong with it. We did not erect the uneven pillars or joists, but they are ours to deal with now. And any further deterioration is, in fact, on our hands.
Isabel Wilkerson
Even if you aren’t in America, I’m sure you can see the harmful effects of systemic sin in your context. Sadly, the reaction from many Christians to systemic sin is often, “Well I didn’t do anything wrong. I never oppressed anyone. I never mistreated anyone. I’m not racist or sexist or hateful in any way.” And that may be true, but it doesn’t preclude us from fighting against the sinful systems and structures that still exist.
None of us were here when this house was built, but we are responsible for it now. I believe this is true for everyone, but it’s especially true for Christians because we have been tasked by God with fighting against sinful systems and structures in our country and in our communities.
When followers of Jesus see injustice, we have a responsibility to use whatever power or privilege we have to expose and end it. When we see people being hurt and oppressed by systemic sin, we have a responsibility to intervene.
And if we choose not to intervene, if we choose to continue benefitting from sinful systems and structures rather than fighting against them, we become complicit in their sin.
Here’s the good news:
While it’s true that Jesus gets angry when people use power, privilege, and religion to hurt people rather than help them, the inverse of that statement is also true: Jesus is pleased when we use power, privilege, and religion to help people rather than hurt them, to liberate people rather than oppress them.
The simple fact is that we as Christians, and as a Christian church at large, have a responsibility to push back against systemic sin everywhere, but especially when it’s found within Christian structures. This looks different for everyone, but I want to share one example of how I’ve tried to fight against systemic sin within my corner of the world.
Our church, Restore, was originally part of a denomination. We were told that this denomination was a “big tent” organization and that our differences in belief in certain areas did not preclude us from joining, but we were soon kicked out for fully including LGBTQ+ folks in our church. Unfortunately, this denomination didn’t kick us out immediately; we were put under a lengthy investigation by that denomination for baptizing a queer person and including a queer family in our Kid Dedications.
At first, the denominational leadership pressured us to resign our membership. They assured us that it would be easier for us if we would just leave rather than having to go through the process of getting kicked out, because that process would entail hearings and testimonies and countless hours of meetings. They even threatened possible legal action against us to repay any funding they’d given to help our church get started.
But we knew we hadn’t actually broken any rules. There wasn’t anything in any of the doctrinal statements about LGBTQ+ theology or practice (I had checked, obviously), so our church leadership talked about what to do and we decided to make them kick us out. We felt like leaving quietly and allowing this to happen to other churches and other queer folks was not good stewardship of the position we were in.
The investigation began. It took about a year and a half to complete. The threats of legal action were just bluster, but they were absolutely right about all of the hearings and meetings. But it was totally worth it because by the end of it, the denomination was forced to rewrite their policy to honestly state their discrimination against the LGBTQ+ community in order to kick us out.
Now that may not sound exactly like a Paul and Silas in a Roman prison kind of moment, and it wasn’t, but I am proud of what we did because it means that no other church or individual is going to fall victim to this denomination falsely claiming that “everyone is welcome” only to find out they actually aren’t.
It is not enough for us to claim that we don’t individually use power, privilege, and religion to hurt people rather than help them when we are participating in systems and structures which do exactly that. Christians cannot be people who ignore and thereby tacitly approve the systemic sin around us. We must leverage whatever power or privilege we have to stand against it.
There is a time when complacency becomes complicity. There is a time when ignoring the problem becomes approving of it.
One place in Christianity’s history where we can see fighting against systemic sin in the name of Jesus on full display is during the Civil Rights movement. Almost all of the leaders in this movement were Christians and many of them were clergy, including the Reverend Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.
Dr. King had an incredible gift for teaching Scripture in ways that encouraged people to partner with God in his work against sinful systems and structures. One way he often did this was by using the story of the Good Samaritan as an illustration of what it looks like to tangibly love our neighbors, especially those who are most different from us.
But even beyond those sermons, what has stuck with me for years is this quote from Dr. King about what it looks like to not only fight against individual sin, but systemic sin, too.
I think the Good Samaritan is a great individual. I, of course, like and respect the Good Samaritan, but I don’t want to just be a Good Samaritan. I am tired of picking up people along the Jericho Road. I am tired of seeing people battered and bruised and bloody, injured and jumped on, along the Jericho Roads of life.
This road is dangerous. I don’t want to pick up anyone else, along this Jericho Road; I want to fix the Jericho Road. I want to pave the Jericho Road, add street lights to the Jericho Road; make the Jericho Road safe for everybody.
Dr. Martin Luther King Jr.
Jesus tells us that the most important thing is the world is to love God and love our neighbor. And what does loving our neighbor actually look like? It means picking them up off the side of the road when they’ve been hurt. It also means asking why this particular road keeps hurting the people who are simply traveling down it.
True love of neighbor is more than just helping the oppressed; it is fighting against the sinful systems and structures which continue to oppress them. We can all do this, and we are in it together.
Where are you seeking to fight systemic sin in your community? Who around you needs you to use your privilege or power on their behalf?
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Thank you for MLK, Jr.'s words about the road and the Good Samaritan ..... had not heard them and they are profound.
🙏