Some have said the theological foundation of Bloodlines is “eurocentric” and in a review of the book at TheOtherJournal.com, Seattle Pacific University theologian Brian Bantum said, “Piper’s emphasis on Christ’s work and reconciliation transcends race and ethnicity in such a way that it tends to erase Christ’s personhood as a Jew.” What is your response?

"It's not going to be a milk chocolate kingdom someday," says the Rev. Dr. John Piper (Photo courtesy of Crossway Books)

I totally disagree with that. Whether the book adequately says it, I know what I believe, what I’ve written, what I’ve preached, and what I think is in the book—namely that the whole history of redemption is God locking in with Abraham to a Jewish people in a most offensive way.

He lets the other nations go their own way. That’s what it says in Acts. He locks in with the Jewish people and they are a ridiculously rebellious people for 2000 years. He sends his son into the world as a Jewish Messiah. He gathers 12 Jewish people and He offers them the kingdom. They reject it and He says, “I will take the kingdom that was given to you and give it to a people that bear the fruits of it, not Jewish, and that people is a people from every people, tribe, tongue, and nation. At that point I am de-Judaizing Christianity and saying, “We must not think in terms of church and the church is the new Israel.” We are grafted into the vine. I’m a Jew now by virtue of connection with the Seed, the Messiah. This is the way I think because it’s Romans 11.

I think the implication of the criticism is that if you try to overcome the hostilities of race by lifting our commitments above our ethnicity, we lose the reality of culture and we lose the realities of the ethnic intentionalities of God. When I read that critique, I went to the back of the book, where I have about four pages on what the future will be like in the age to come. I argue from the plural of peoples in Revelation 21 that redeemable, cultural, and all racial realities are preserved in the new heavens and the new earth so that the beauties of what God did in creating diversity are not lost. It’s not going to be a milk chocolate kingdom someday, where we’re all going to have identical eyes, identical skin, identical hair, identical noses, and everything is identical because now He has the ideal human being. That’s exactly the opposite of what’s going to happen, so if I misled people on that, I’m sorry.

In response to a statement by Dr. Bradley Wednesday night about the need for leadership structures to change, you said it is sometimes difficult to find speakers or staff of color for events and church positions. Is it more difficult for you because of your strict commitment to Reformed theology?

It’s difficult at every level and I make it really difficult, meaning my doctrinal standards are high. Most white guys don’t qualify, so when I [host] a conference, I want a certain doctrinal brand. There aren’t many white guys to fill that. When you go to the black community, there are proportionately fewer. African Americans are about 13 or 14 percent of American culture. Half of them are women. That makes it harder. When I heard [Dr. Bradley] point out those statistics [about one-of-20 speakers at conferences being non-white], I said, “I feel that. I feel that.” And, I feel every time I have one or two, it’s token. I know that. I’m going to get criticized if I have nobody. I’m going to get criticized if I have two. And so, I do the best I can. At my church, we have four black elders out of 40 and that’s too small. We’ve been working at this for years and years and years, but there are multi-layered cultural and theological obstacles—worship styles, leadership styles, every imaginable style, food styles. I admire anybody who makes headway at this.

In Evangelical Covenant Church Pastor Efrem Smith’s review of Bloodlines, he said he didn’t remember you being involved in racial reconciliation efforts in Minneapolis. Do you have a different perspective on that?

I do. One of the reasons that I have not been successful, I think, in growing a more multi-ethnic church is because I’m a scholar and I wrote books. To write 30 books, you don’t hob-nob with a lot of people When I have time, I go home and think.

So you feel like you have a different kind of calling?

Exactly. It’s a calling in which I take the books that I did, including Bloodlines, and I say, “Oh God. Please give these some voice and effect,” because I could have done so much more for this church. I could have loved people so differently. I could have been much more effective in discipling in my church. I could have gotten out in my neighborhood and walked the street more. I could be known as the pastor of the poor Phillips neighborhood where I live. I could be one of those on the street kind of guys, where everybody knows his name. Nobody knows my name in Phillips neighborhood. I live there trying to make a statement, but I don’t get out and function. I’m not a neighborhood reality. Pastors would say that’s stupid. Anthony [Bradley] said to me, “We’re a very relational people.” I said, “That’s why I’m not very successful, because I’m not a relational guy. I’m an introspective, reflective, go back home, write books, preach sermons [kind of guy]. I have done the best I could with what I have, but I would not encourage anybody who wants to make progress in racial harmony to do what I do.

UrbanFaith recently published excerpts from a book about what two white leaders love about the black church. What do you think the black church has contributed to the church at large and to the wider culture?

There wouldn’t have been a Civil Rights Movement without a black church. That it happened was a good thing. Not only were the leaders all pastors (unlike many today), they were fairly biblically informed and theologically driven, even if imperfect. The civil rights gains of the last 30-50 years have been largely rooted in the black church, its commitment to social justice, and its ability to embrace the entire black community.

I would [also] say the experience of suffering historically in slavery and since then in all kinds of ways has produced a Christianity [in the black church] that—up until at least 20-30 years ago—produced a depth of dealing with suffering that the white church never had to and never did. … The songs they sing still today strike the deepest chord—not the “ra-ra” songs, but the songs about “nobody knows the trouble I’ve seen.”

The third piece is everybody knows that [black churches] are affectionally vibrant. Their worship dynamic is vital and alive.

In his review of Bloodlines, UrbanFaith columnist Jelani Greenidge said he thought the book was, for the most part, written for white people. Was it?

I knew that I’m white and, therefore, I’m thinking thoughts that they need to think. I wanted white people to think these things, but I hoped that it would gain traction in the black community and I’ve been real pleased with what I’ve seen. When it said at your site, “Finally a white guy who gets it,” that was one of the nicest things anybody could say.