Invisible Privilege

I recently received a comment on my blog post about the murder of Renee Good asking about some of the more subtle ways we are influenced by privilege. I’m very aware that my privilege has provided many more opportunities for education and advancement in my own life than that of other friends. As a married, white cisgendered man, I fit the profile for people looking to fill leadership roles and my career advanced more easily than it might have otherwise. But what about the less obvious ways that privilege influences us? Motivated by that comment I wanted to share some thoughts. These thoughts are far from my own and I wish I could link to specific bits of information that has filtered into my brain over the years. I cannot. But I would encourage you to further your own study in critical race theory, Black feminist thought and Christian ethics to continue beyond this post. There are many smarter people than I writing on these topics.

Why is Racial Justice Important to Christians?

I suspect my regular readers won’t be surprised that I’m writing on this topic. But if you just stumbled on this blog because you Googled a particular Bible verse or Karl Barth quote, let me explain why I think every Christian needs to be concerned with racial justice. If you are a Christian, you know that all people are created in God’s image. The Christ inside of me is the same Christ inside of you. Jesus was clear that how we treat one another and especially the stranger is how we are treating Him. Systemic racism denies the equal dignity and worth of all of God’s children. Pursuing racial justice is a radical affirmation of God’s design for humanity and love of neighbor.

As you read these ideas, many images may come to mind. You might have a close brown friend who you picture being kind to in new ways or whom you imagine you might have unintentionally harmed. I want you to also think of Jesus. The biblical prophets all the way to Jesus and the apostles and all the way to the pastors in our best churches repeatedly side with the poor, the widow, the immigrant and the marginalized. It is our duty as followers of Christ to continue that legacy and correct injustice no matter how deeply hidden or ingrained into our culture.

Luke 4:16-19

When he came to Nazareth, where he had been brought up, he went to the synagogue on the Sabbath day, as was his custom. He stood up to read, and the scroll of the prophet Isaiah was given to him. He unrolled the scroll and found the place where it was written:

^“The Spirit of the Lord is upon me,
    because he has anointed me
        to bring good news to the poor.
He has sent me to proclaim release to the captives
    and recovery of sight to the blind,
        to set free those who are oppressed,
   to proclaim the year of the Lord’s favor.”

Of course, if you read on in this story this simple call to social justice almost gets Jesus thrown off a cliff. Is the lesson here that we should remain quiet lest we ourselves are at risk of a cliff dive? No, we should go get ourselves thrown from the cliffs, too. The Gospel is not about a secret code that gets you into Heaven. How could that be good news? The Gospel is about reconciliation with God and each other. Living out God’s kingdom right here and now means we must work toward justice and peace where all relationships are restored.

In that kingdom, privilege has no place. Our lives are cross-shaped, and just as our Lord demonstrated all the way to execution, we must take on our own incarnational call to identify with the oppressed. It is a choice to live in sacrificial solidarity not domination. That means you may give up some things you love but don’t really deserve when you try to correct privilege in society. Privilege continues because people of privilege enjoy that privilege and don’t want to surrender it.

Paternalism

Let’s start with an idea that is especially hard for certain kinds of white Christians. Paternalism means that we intentionally or otherwise treat people of color as dependent, less capable or needing some kind of white intervention to fix their problems. Sometimes this paternalism is disgustingly overt and damaging, such as when the white nationalist racist Charlie Kirk said, “If I see a Black pilot, I’m going to be like, ‘Boy, I hope he’s qualified.'” But it can also show up as a white-led charity that makes decisions without community leadership and input.

The point of dismantling privilege is that there are powerful voices inside of affected communities that deserve to be elevated. White allyship should be about raising those leaders and not supplanting them with a white savior narrative. We need to be about nurturing dignity and agency of marginalized people.

I look around my church and it is predominantly white middle-to-upper class suburbanites. We all mean well, but it is natural for us to rush into an event or charity work without listening to local leaders. That doesn’t mean we meant harm or that our decisions were incorrect. It just means that, like most humans, we assume we know best and, to get things done efficiently, we rush into decisions, resources and planning. What if we understood that our primary role was to listen and not jump in and help. What if we waited to be told what to do before doing anything? What if we were humble enough to seek guidance and partnership first rather than making our own assumptions which are necessarily influenced by our own privilege? That’s what love of neighbor really means, not jumping in and insisting on our own solution but listening and learning with respect.

Staying Comfortable

At the beginning of this decade, some very privileged white Floridians were able to push through some laws and rules that changed African American history education standards. It was a deliberate constraint on how teachers could present real history about slavery and systematic racism in the classroom. They accused some educators of trying to indoctrinate kids into “wokeness,” whatever that means. Heaven forbid kids learn real history so they won’t repeat it. In some places, they went so far as to try to reposition the brutality of slavery as teaching skills to the slaves. Revolting.

All of this is couched in putting children in white emotional ease. This buried piece of privilege means that we’re so concerned with our children feeling comfortable when confronted with the facts of racism that we’d prioritize that comfort over a real education. Florida is censoring the difficult work of truth-telling. Some white listeners might feel challenged or defensive, so they made the decision to avoid the topic.

But real faith formation requires uncomfortable truths. Walking the Gospel means repentance, not sanitizing history. If we want to work toward greater justice, we must honestly confess the works of repair that need undertaking. When we avoid these histories of injustice, we enable ongoing and future harm.

Entitlement

Today there are so many obvious examples of entitlement that I’m not sure this is a hidden aspect of white privilege. The Republicans in congress as of this writing are about 90% male and 90% white. If a Star Wars or Disney main character is not white and straight, the Internet unleashes its worst trolls on the world. We just all assume that access to resources, respect, safety, leadership positions and Disney princesses are a default position for white people.

In the past, if a white person felt put upon, they might politely complain. Meanwhile, people of color are so frequently put upon, some have lost the will to point it out. Unfortunately, today we’ve lost all civility, so it’s very common for white pundits to complain about DEI initiatives or even organize boycotts of companies, movies, music, sporting events and more if a person of color is given a primary role.

Entitlement means that white people almost never have to prove legitimacy based on their race. No one objects to a white doctor, teacher, lawyer or pilot. That is privilege. Believing in the equal justice of the kingdom of God means that we should assume our pilots are trained and capable regardless of their color. Honestly, knowing the disadvantages people of color face, I assume that my black pilot is probably twice as competent or they might not have gotten the job in the first place.

Silence

Martin Luther King, Jr., wrote, “The silence of the good people is more dangerous than the brutality of the bad people.” White people often choose not to engage in difficult problems and that is privilege at its core. It is a real mark of privilege to see injustice and decide to engage or withhold. People facing injustice do not have that privilege, they must engage. They have no privileged choice in the matter.

Proverbs 31:8-9

Speak out for those who cannot speak,
    for the rights of all the destitute.
Speak out; judge righteously;
    defend the rights of the poor and needy.

Pastors avoid saying difficult truths in sermons. Lay people avoid difficult discussions at parties. But when you speak up, you give other people permission to speak up as well. You might be surprised how many people agree but were just too afraid of rocking the boat. When you model what it means to speak the truth, you give others courage to follow.

In the worst cases, silence is excused through a both-sidesism. I know you want to be polite, but not all sides and perspectives are equally valid when one side is perpetuating injustice and falsehoods. Sides minimizing racism (are you listening Ron Desantis?) do not deserve your consideration, only your condemnation. Saying both sides have issues when a difficult conversation comes up is not just deflecting an uncomfortable conversation, it is actually a tool to maintain privilege. Only a person of privilege can avoid taking a moral stand, because your privilege insulates you from the problems that result from your apathy. Other people are hurt by your apathy, not you, so it is privileged to stay silent or claim, “all lives matter.”

It is our Christian duty to confront harmful systems. Bigotry and oppression are not simple opinions. They are wrong. We see the end game of both-sidesism in real-time in our news right now when citizens are shot dead for peacefully protesting and then are defamed as domestic terrorists. There were definitely domestic terrorists on the scene, but it wasn’t Renee Good or Alex Preti, it was the ICE agents. These two sides are in no way equivalent. On the one side you have an award-winning poet and ICU nurse who wanted to uphold the image of God in all people and on the other side you have ignorant, masked murderers.

Getting Out of Our Comfort Zones

You didn’t cause these injustices. Unless you’re someone like Stephen Miller, JD Vance or Kristi Noem, then I pray for your immortal souls. But you can recognize when laws, institutions and norms have contributed to your own private advantages. You can recognize when your individual acts of paternalism, entitlement and silence are expressions of broader systems. You can recognize when you are unintentionally perpetuating values that you don’t uphold. Privilege is typically invisible to those who hold it. It’s just the way it is and we like the status quo. It takes intentional work to recognize systemic privilege and some harder, painful work to gut-check your own behaviors.

The real meaning of repentance is not saying you’re sorry for a wrong, it is turning away from injustice. We start repentance by being willing to acknowledge the benefits we’ve inherited and examining our privilege with humility, courage and a listening heart.