On June 5, 2020, it had been just over a week since a white Minnesota police officer, Derek Chauvin, killed George Floyd, an unarmed, African American man. Protests were underway outside Central United Methodist Church, an interracial church in downtown Detroit with a long history of activism on civil rights, peace, immigrant rights and poverty issues.
In response to the COVID-19 pandemic, the church was no longer holding in-person worship services. But anyone walking into its sanctuary that day would have seen long red flags behind the pastor’s lectern, displaying the words “peace” and “love.” A banner reading “Michigan Says No! To War” hung alongside pictures of civil rights icons Fannie Lou Hamer and the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr., as well as labor-rights activist Cesar Chavez. In line with her church’s activist tradition, senior pastor Jill Hardt Zundell stood outside the building and preached about her church’s commitment to eradicating anti-Black racism to her congregants and all that passed by.
In our sociology and political science research, we have both studied how race, religion and politics are intimately connected in the United States. Our recent book, “Race and the Power of Sermons on American Politics” – written with psychologist James S. Jackson – uses 44 national and regional surveys conducted between 1941 and 2019 to examine racial differences in who hears messages about social justice at church. We also examined how hearing those types of sermons correlates with support for policies aimed at reducing social inequality and with political activism.
For centuries, many Americans have envisioned that their country has a special relationship with God – that their nation is “a city on a hill” with special blessings and responsibilities. Beliefs that America is exceptional have inspired views across the political spectrum.
Many congregations that emphasize social justice embrace this idea of a “covenant” between the United States and the creator. They interpret it to mean Americans must create opportunity and inclusion for all – based in the belief that all people are equally valued by God.
Politics in the pews
In our book, we find that, depending upon the issue, between half and two-thirds of Americans support religious leaders taking public positions on racism, poverty, war and immigration. Roughly a third report attending worship settings where their clergy or friends discuss these issues and the importance of politically acting on one’s beliefs.
African Americans and Hispanic Americans tend to be more supportive of religious leaders speaking out against racism and attempting to influence poverty and immigration policy. On the whole, African Americans are the most likely to support religious leaders expressing political views on specific issues, from poverty and homelessness to peace, as we examine in our book.
Black Americans are also more likely to attend worship settings where clergy and other members encourage them to connect their faith to social justice work. For example, according to a July 2020 Pew Research Center poll, 67% of African American worshippers reported hearing sermons in support of Black Lives Matter, relative to 47% of Hispanics and 36% of whites.
Race also affects the relationship between hearing such sermons and supporting related policies. When statistically accounting for religious affiliation, political party and demographic characteristics, attending these types of congregations more strongly associates with white Americans supporting progressive policy positions than it does for Black Americans and Hispanics.
White worshippers who hear sermons about race and poverty, for example, are more likely to oppose spending cuts to welfare programs than those who hear no such messages at their place of worship.
This is not the case for African Americans and Hispanics, however, who are as likely to oppose social welfare spending cuts regardless of where they worship. In other words, while hearing sermons about social justice issues informs or at least aligns with white progressive policy attitudes, this alignment is not as strong for Blacks and Hispanics.
Clergy of predominantly white worship spaces are often more politically liberal than their congregants. Historically, this has translated into members pushing back when clergy take public positions that are more progressive than their congregation’s.
This may explain why white parishioners who chose to attend congregations where they hear social justice-themed sermons tend to be more politically progressive, or more open to sermons challenging previous views, than are other white parishioners.
From words to action
However, when it comes to the connection between hearing sermons and taking political action, race doesn’t matter as much. That is, when taking into account religious affiliation, party affiliation and social demographics, people who hear social justice-themed sermons in their places of worship are more likely than other Americans to engage in political activism, regardless of their race.
For example, during the months following Floyd’s murder, Black, white and Hispanic congregants who heard sermons about race and policing were more likely than others to have protested for any purpose in the past 12 months, according to data from the 2020 National Politics Study. More specifically, white Americans who attended houses of worship where they heard those types of sermons were more than twice as likely to participate in a protest as other white worshippers. Black and Hispanic attendees were almost twice as likely to protest, compared to those attending houses of worship where they did not hear sermons about race and policing.
The difference between people who attend houses of worship with a social-justice focus and people who did not attend religious services at all is even more striking. White Americans who heard such messages at religious services were almost four times more likely to protest than white Americans who did not attend services; Black and Hispanic Americans were almost three times as likely.
Today, many Americans are pessimistic about inequality, political divisions and ethnic conflict. Yet, as these surveys show, social justice-minded congregations inspire members to work for policies that support their vision of the public good.
TRAYVON'S LEGACY: At an April 9 rally in downtown Los Angeles, hundreds marched in memory of slain Florida teenager Trayvon Martin. Martin's death has both galvanized a movement and exposed our nation's racial divisions. (Photo: Ringo Chiu/Newscom)
In a previous column here at UrbanFaith.com I warned that after the news cycle on the Trayvon Martin case runs its course, we will likely “quickly return to the same old stereotyping until the next tragedy explodes,” unless, that is, the nation commits to something different.
The sea of black, white, Hispanics and others faces of color that protested for the justice system to give a second look at Trayvon’s case is extremely encouraging. It led to the second-degree murder charge and arrest of George Zimmerman on April 11 that Trayvon’s family and all of us moved by the tragedy have been praying for. But the specter of going “back to the same old stereotyping” continues to linger.
A recent USA TODAY/Gallup poll shows the vast difference between how blacks and whites view the Trayvon Martin case. Seventy-three percent of blacks think Zimmerman would’ve been arrested right away if Martin were white compared to 33 percent of whites. Meanwhile, 52 percent of whites believe race hasn’t made a difference in how the case has been handled, while 72 percent of blacks say it definitely has.
We continue to have a serious racial divide.
Since the case came to national attention, there have been many calls for an open dialogue on race, and even some town hall meetings. It’s a good start. However, just talking is not enough. All Americans need formal systematic anti-racism training if we’re going to close the divide.
I attended an anti-racism workshop called Damascus Road as part of my work at Mennonite Mission Network. Damascus Road is an Anabaptist training program developed by the Mennonites and Brethren in Christ churches to help end institutional racism. The name refers to the biblical story of Saul (a mass oppressor of Christians) being transformed into the apostle Paul (a great evangelist for Christ) after experiencing Jesus along the road to Damascus (Acts 9:1-31).
At Damascus Road, people of color and whites came together for two full days of intense learning and reflection about America’s systematic racism and how it has wounded us all. Trainers representing various racial and ethnic groups – Native Americans, blacks, whites, Hispanics, and Asians — guide participants through America’s racist history to the present.
Tears were shed as participants verbalized deep wounds. We left with a greater understanding of ourselves and our America — “My country ‘tis of thy people you‘re dying,” as the song by legendary American Indian singer Buffy Sainte-Marie says.
Damascus Road is not a “one-shot” program. There are additional sessions, but my key takeaway from this first session is that honest dialogue followed by ongoing actions are what can heal America because we are “all in the same birdcage” together. At the top of the cage are whites that have a false sense of privilege — “internalized racist superiority identity.” Basking in the benefits of being up top, many whites either don’t care or are oblivious to the mess caused by their droppings at the bottom of the cage. Meanwhile, other whites turn their guilt to self-righteousness, criticizing “those rednecks,” but still clinging to their unearned privileges.
At the bottom of the cage, many people of color suffer from “internalized racist oppression identity.” They often see themselves as victims and can overreact to even unintentional slights. Meanwhile, other minorities instinctively jump at any opportunity to oppress their own kind, or other people of color. Yes, black-on-black crime is a symptom of this same systemic racism.
From these ills stereotypes are created. When we encounter each other based on these stereotypes the situation can potentially explode into a tragedy — like a 17-year-old black male wearing a hoodie lying dead on a lawn in a gated community.
Race is a myth turned into reality. There is no biological justification for race. Skin color is simply about having more or less melanin. It should be as insignificant as eye or hair color. Race is a concept created to advance racism — a system that holds one group of people superior over others.
CNN has been broadcasting a series of reports on race showing that children as young as 6 years old learn racism primarily from their parents. It’s sad. Racism is not something that babies arrive with from heaven. It’s a sickness of the mind that eats away at the heart.
But the heart can be changed and racism can be unlearned if we commit — like the Americans of all colors who stood for justice on behalf of Trayvon and his family.
Honest, open dialogue and direct systematic change is the prescription. I’m not talking about paying lip service to it with an afternoon “diversity talk” in the workplace, but a holistic approach, like Damascus Road. We need to be taught how to discuss racism together. How to create an environment where white, black, Native American, Hispanic, Asian … all Americans can be heard, understood, and then revise the way we think and behave towards each other.
Implement anti-racism workshops in churches and across denominations and faiths. Make secular versions mandatory in schools, starting at a young age, as part of civics education.
There are several organizations (religious and secular) doing this important work. They understand that talking is good but not enough. We need a systematic approach to undue a systemic illness.
Trayvon’s mother, Sabrina Fulton, said it best at the press conference about the charges and arrest of Zimmerman: “…I just want to speak from my heart to your heart because a heart has no color — it’s not black, it’s not white, it’s red …”
With God’s help, we can heal our hearts and minds of racism.
As a father, I dread feeling the pain that Tracy Martin has now.
Knowing your innocent son has suffered for the guilty.
I raised two sons who are now 27 and 20 years old. They’re good young men. They know God, have attended college, and are working hard as they navigate their life paths. They have no criminal records. They have no children out of wedlock or offspring that they don’t support. They don’t fit our culture’s negative stereotype of the black male — anti-intellectual, violent thugs to be feared. But judging from their tattoos, skinny jeans and partiality to wearing hoodies, perhaps you wouldn’t know this about my sons if you encountered them on a sidewalk.
Black fathers that commit to raising their boys to be good men fear for them because we know intimately the burden of the negative black male stereotype — the white myth we’ve been branded with for centuries. It has gotten worse since I was younger in the ’80s when my father feared for me. We dads (and single moms nowadays) eventually perform the ritual of sitting our sons down to have “that conversation” that has been passed down, that man-to-man talk about the rules of survival.
We say things like:
• Expect to be followed in a department store, but don’t pay it any mind.
• When (not if) the police stop you, stay cool and calm. Don’t make any sudden moves that could cost you your life.
• Pull your pants up. Dress neatly and don’t act rowdy or suspicious in public. Otherwise, you’ll scare white folks and they’ll trip on you.
“I’ve always let him know we as African Americans get stereotyped,” Tracy Martin told USA Today of his son, Trayvon Martin, who died senselessly at the hands of a gunman claiming self-defense. “I told him that society is cruel.”
By now you’ve surely heard about Trayvon, 17, who was killed Feb. 26 by George Zimmerman, an apparently overzealous neighborhood watch captain in Sanford, Florida. From Zimmerman’s 911 call, it is clear that he believed the negative black male stereotype and fit Trayvon into its deadly box. It didn’t matter to Zimmerman, who is actually Latino, that whites also burglarize in his neighborhood. Trayvon, while visiting the home of his father’s fiancée, was essentially walking while black. A black teen “wearing a hoodie” is “suspicious” and therefore guilty. That was enough for Zimmerman, 28, to justify drawing a 9mm handgun and bustin’ a cap into a teen.
A dad’s worse fear for his son realized.
We dads fear for our sons because we can’t control the minds of others who want to believe the worst about them. We fear that our sons will suffer for the young men who have bought into the negative stereotype and even promote it. We fear the white police officer who pulls them over for a traffic stop. We fear a police chief who declines to thoroughly investigate our son’s killer, even when the gunman has admitted to it.
By all published reports so far, Trayvon wasn’t a thug or gangsta but more like my sons, or perhaps yours when they were teens — a good kid carrying a package of Skittles and talking to a girl on his cellphone. Even President Obama chimed in yesterday, remarking that if he had a son, he’d likely look like Trayvon.
Trayvon wasn’t anti-intellectual. He was reportedly an A and B student. There’s nothing wrong with being an athlete or a rapper (one of my sons is both), but Trayvon dreamt of being a pilot. Clearly he was being raised to rise above the stereotype.
But the innocent often suffer for the guilty.
As much as these racially charged incidents outrage us, the fact is that most crimes are intra-racial. Whites basically kill whites and blacks kill blacks. Black-on-black homicide is the leading cause of death for young black males ages 12 to 19. Both of my sons, while in high school, have had friends die this way. In my day, growing up in Brooklyn during the Howard Beach incident, I too had more high school friends who died at the hands of fellow young black men. Why aren’t we equally outraged by black on black homicide as we are when a white person kills one of us?
I hope Zimmerman gets a fair trial that leads to hard time in state prison. But what is the black community’s culpability in perpetuating the negative black male stereotype that Zimmerman chose to believe? White people do no have a monopoly on racist thinking. Black and Latinos perpetuate negative stereotypes, too. We all bear some responsibility. It’s a result of the systemic, often institutionalized racism we are all under. We need to analyze that and get free from it.
What if we all operated on the root cause of the sickness — the systemic racism in our society, which has warped the minds of all Americans, instead of the symptom only? What if we all attacked the sin at its source? I believe we all need systematic anti-racism training — in schools, churches, and at home — to heal from racism.
There is a pattern to how we react to these high-profile, racially charged recurring tragedies (see Emmett Till, or more recently Yusef Hawkins and the Jena 6). We learn of these incidents through the media and become angry. Anger leads to protesting, marching, and chanting led by national civil rights leaders. Scapegoats are soon forced to resign, like how the Sanford police chief abruptly agreed March 22 to step down “temporarily” under pressure. Oh, we may even have a vigorous national conversation about race for a week or so. But after the news cycle has run its course, we quickly return to the same old stereotyping until the next tragedy explodes.
Meanwhile, good dads and moms are left dreading the perilous prospects that may await their innocent sons.
Whether the destruction inflicted upon our black sons comes from within our community or from without, we must be intentional about equipping them to rise above the ignorance and hate. If our black sons are to ever be as safe as young white men in America, we must get to the root cause of the negative black male stereotype that has burdened me, my brothers, my dad, and generations of African American men.
If we don’t, we’ll continue to mourn the tragic and unnecessary deaths of young men like Trayvon Martin.
As a father, I dread feeling the pain that Tracy Martin has now.