Some thoughts on systemic racism, critical race theory and social justice

Back in March my wife and I closed on a four-bedroom, three-bathroom house on a cul-de-sac in a nice suburban neighborhood. It’s close to pretty much everything — shopping; the main expressway to get to work, church and gigs; the whole nine yards. (The schools are pretty good as well, but since we won’t be having children that’s not a factor.)

And yet I’m occasionally reminded that I couldn’t have grown up in this home, which dates back to the late-1950s.

You see, because my parents were African-Americans, banks would have denied them the low-interest loans prevalent back then to build new houses in what we call suburbia. And over time the value of those houses would appreciate in value. Indeed, most major cities eventually not only emptied out of its growing white middle-class but took its financial and social clout with it.

And that has led to, among other things, the racial wealth gap we see today.

And that is an example of the systemic racism that critical race theory, which was formulated in law schools in the 1970s but is now being vilified by the political right as “divisive,” attempts to address. “Systemic racism” is real, folks, and black folks understand that; the situation with housing is just one example of that.

As such, I believe that it would be a Kingdom of God value not simply to repent of racist attitudes but also to dismantle the systems that crept up as a result of such. His justice says, “We got ours, and we will help you get yours.”

That’s why my racially- and economically-diverse church has from time to time has held home-buying workshops, not simply for the permanence and stability that owning a home offers but also for the financial benefit. (Perhaps other churches hold them, but I’m not aware of those.)

Thankfully, most of the specific situations that caused such systemic racism in the first place have been addressed, but the fallout still lingers. How we address that issue we can discuss—but we must, hopefully without rancor.

Because it’s not enough to open the doors without providing the means for people to succeed. In that way we can build what Martin Luther King Jr. called “the beloved community.”