Several decades ago I was in a learning experience with a diverse group of people in terms of race. We were divided into small groups and given cards of various colors.
We were asked to respond to questions by suggesting which color card best characterized a given situation. Colors are not my thing. That is too right-brained for me as a hopelessly left-brained person.
In response to one question, I said it was the flesh-colored card. Our group leader, a black woman about my age said, “Whose flesh?” She caught me in a culturally captive answer that was absolutely wrong on my part. I thought, “Where did that answer even come from?”
Later I unpacked this situation and realized it had to do with crayons. During my preschool days, and less during my elementary school days, I played with crayons. Having been born in 1950 this meant the years of 1950 through 1961.
During those days in a Crayola Crayons multi-pack was a color known as “flesh.” Can you guess the color of “flesh”? Of course you can. It was the color that represented a white Anglo-Saxon person.
My research on the Internet tells me it was around 1962 when Crayola Crayons began to change their colors. It was too late for me. By 12 years old it was hardwired into my subconscious brain that there was a color called “flesh,” and it was the color of my skin.
Fourteen years later when a card of a certain color was held up in front of me, I instinctively called the color “flesh.”
How awkward. How uncharacteristic of my racial convictions growing up in two large cities — Baltimore and Philadelphia — and attending racially diverse schools.
How uncharacteristic of a home where I was taught everyone is loved of God, and thus loved by us. Attitudes and actions should always be that everyone is a person of equal worth created in the image of God to live and to love.
At the time of the incident, I was pastor of a church in a racially diverse community context. We engaged in ministries blind to race, and worship that was intentionally welcoming regardless of race.
Still my cultural captivity led me into unintentional offense of another and admittedly unintentional sin. While pondering this situation in recent days I stumbled across the fourth chapter of Leviticus, where God indicates to Moses that unintentional sin is still sin, and there must be repentance and sacrifice made to God.
I was reminded of this incident in my life from 40 years ago when in recent days I sought to think once again not only about racial prejudice in our society and our church organizations, but also the racism that is within each of us. It came to a head during a recent meeting of the Baptist World Alliance where people were present of multiple races.
When it comes to racial prejudice I am convinced all of us, of any race, have sinned and fallen short of the glory of God. This is not an excuse or a rationale for anyone’s sin of racial prejudice — especially not my own — but it is a foundational admission we all must make. Regardless of our race, each of us in thought, word and deed are from time-to-time racially prejudice. Some of us are even racially prejudice in all three areas all the time.
There are key distinctions we also need to identify when dealing with racial prejudice and racism. First, all the time some people and institutions in our society are racist. Some of the time all of the people and institutions in our society are racially prejudice.
Second, some people tend to be intentionally prejudice — even racist — and some people tend to be unintentionally racially prejudice. I will let each you decide for yourself where you are on such a continuum.
Third, many of the people who are only racially prejudice some of the time, are probably anti-racist in thought, word and deed most of the time. They are friends of racial equality and may even be surprised to disappointed in themselves when their thoughts, words or deeds come across as prejudice.
They desire for God to create in them a clean heart and to renew a right spirit within them (Psalm 51:10).
Fourth, people like me who benefit from white privilege need to continually realize the wounds and hurts of racism are deep, long-standing and ever-present. We should never be offended when a sister or brother of another race calls us prejudiced when we are blind to lingering racism. We need to stop and think about the possibility that once again we have committed a thought, word or deed of unintentional racial prejudice.
Even if what we thought, said or did was not racially prejudiced, at our best we may still come across as racially prejudiced to some people. Thus, the cry of prejudice is another opportunity to move closer to one another, and to a Christ-like character and nature.