The Religion of Whiteness

I just finished reading The Religion of Whiteness: How Racism Distorts Christian Faith by Michael O. Emerson and Glenn E. Bracey II. It's a short book, but still, I finished it in less than 24 hours because I found it so compelling. I also cannot begin to do justice to the authors' arguments in a blog post because there is just so much research, both quantitative and qualitative, to back up their conclusions. There is a lot packed into this book.

I don't think it is an understatement to say that the year 2020 was tough. The juxtaposition of Covid, the brutal murders of Breonna Taylor and George Floyd, the Black Lives Matter Protests, the perpetual spiral of the current president combined together to create national trauma. But I need to take that back a bit, because my experience was that some parts of the Christian church didn't seem affected at all. In fact, life just seemed to go on with only a slight hiccup. For myself (and actually more than a few people I know), the of a national calling out that Black people actually matter combined with a church that was deafening in their silence in the face of such injustice caused a complete re-examining of my faith. There was no way I could make sense of extraordinary tacit silence on the part of the church, and I did some significant deconstruction because I knew I didn't want to be a part of that silence. 

When you are in the middle of deconstruction, it can be difficult to publicly write about the experience. There are too many threads to tease apart and make sense of. What is vital? What are you going to keep? What needs to go? What does this actually all mean for you? I met with a spiritual advisor during this period because I needed someone who could walk me through the process. In some ways I think it is a process that actually will never end, this continuing questioning of what is and what is not vital and important, and I'm okay with that. But it also means that I will continue to research the reasons behind my experience and the need to step away from certain aspects of the church. This is where this book comes in. 

I need to share a longish quote from the conclusion before continuing on with my own story.

"Race scholars have long speculated about what drives white people to behave in racist ways. Arguments range from a desire to protect whites' group position, to hope for securing anticipated future resources, to corrupted worldviews like the white racial frame, and nepotism among whites, to name a few.

When we consider racism from a spiritual perspective, we can see another motive driving masses of white people to participate in raciest actions. People who practice the ROW [Religion of Whiteness] depend on a sense of concerted agreement to produce the collective effervescence [the authors' term for the feeling of synchrony from being part of a group] that is at the core of the religion. The exalted feeling they experience depends upon everyone agreeing about the dominance of whiteness. When people disturb that feeling of white dominance, either by questioning its legitimacy or by affirming a nonwhite identity, that sense of concerted agreement is disrupted. Predictably, ROWers [members of the Religion of Whiteness] react to the disruption of their collective effervescence with the kinds of betrayal and ostracism that we have documented throughout this book. If ROWers are going to achieve the collective benefits of the ROW, they need to exclude the Remnant [members of white churches who do not ascribe to the ROW] and everyone else who challenges the dominance of whiteness.                   ---

This craving for effervescence creates an emotional state in ROWers that justifies racist actions. ROWers constantly feel either affirmed or denied, either bathing in collective effervescence or isolated and embattled. There is no middle ground. It is an emotional challenge that is constantly under threat. It can crumble in the face of challenge by unbelieving white people or uncooperative people of color. This emotional state then becomes the justification for all kinds of racist actions. Negative emotions of prejudice flow from a suspicion that people of color will not cooperate with the worship of whiteness, thus disrupting the collective effervescence ROWers would otherwise experience. Ostracizing people of color and non-believing is necessary to protect the atmosphere of temological ignorance and a refusal to acknowledge information that might challenge their views about race are required to maintain the sense of agreement that undergirds the collective effervescence. ROWers support Christian nationalism because it offers an opportunity to make the conditions for collective effervescence permanent and universal." (pp. 148-9)

The extremely brief Cliff Notes of the above paragraphs is that churches which promote a Religion of Whiteness need to either rein in or ostracize any voices that interfere with the idea that white people are better than other races and cultures. And this is where I pick up my personal story. I haven't shared this part of it here because it felt unkind to our previous church. After reading this book, I realize that I am complicit in the ROW if I remain silent; that in some way I am agreeing that I am "spreading division" among believers by sharing that hard parts of my story. I have come to realize that the division was always there, it was none of my doing, and I need to speak out. Now, don't get too excited, this is actually pretty mild stuff, but it all came up again as I read and for the first time it began to make sense.

Over the course of our tenure, our children of color had experienced various racial microaggressions (some less small than others) in different contexts. Some I discussed with leadership, others I admit I didn't. The trouble with microaggressions is that they are small and often were met with a version of, "I'm so sorry, I'll keep an eye out for that." There was never resolution. It wasn't great, but nothing felt big enough to be a deal breaker. (After we left, my children felt freer to share that they experienced far more racism than they had shared with me.)

Then 2020 came... like most churches, ours went virtual for the lock-down portion of Covid. There was always a children's message after the broadcast of the service. These were usually pretty benign. Then there came the one discussing different types of food from different countries (I have no memory of the context of this message), where the person delivering the message mentioned kimchi from Korea, told what it was, then pronounced something along the lines of how weird it was. You can ask my children, I pretty much blew a gasket right then. The next day, after I had calmed down, I sent a long communication as to why this small statement was so hurtful. The communication had a calm and reasonable tone, and I assumed that this was an oversight and surely the person would want to know better to do better. I know I would. The response? One word: Okay. Absolutely nothing else. There was no invitation to engage in any sort of dialogue or attempt at apology. Frankly, I was pissed.

On its own, this might not have been enough to have us completely pull the plug, though it would have been close. But this combined with absolutely no mention of the murder of George Floyd was incredibly concerning. Then I learned that the neighborhood that our church was in had had a fairly egregious racial incident which was never mentioned. This was the neighborhood we were repeatedly told that we were there to serve. How can we serve a neighborhood and completely ignore racist acts in that neighborhood? It was too much. (In full disclosure, this wasn't a completely race related decision as attitudes towards the LGBTQ+ community also significantly factored in, but the reasons for that part of the story have always been clear to me.)

None of it had ever made sense. We knew nice people in that church. We thought we had started to make friends. We didn't understand how everyone wasn't as upset at societal events as we were. But we left and it was as though we had never attended in terms of contact. That hurt. The whole experience was upsetting and baffling and I have struggled to make sense of it all. This book has helped in that regard. 

Is it a hopeful book? I'm not sure. I do know that personally I find it helpful to have a better understanding of what we are up against. And sharing stories is the best way to bring it all into the light.