The Widow and the Judge

One of the first times I used the phrase "liberal racism" was during a Racial Justice Working Group meeting at the National Council of Churches. Canon Harold Lewis, an African-American Episcopalian said, "Liberal racism -- that's an oxymoron." He is probably right. If one holds strictly to definitions, these two words do not belong next to each other.

But look at the political realities of today in the United States, and one sees that the only difference between a conservative racist and a liberal racist is that one is conservative and one is liberal. I include myself as a liberal. I would be far more comfortable calling myself a radical, but I'm not really sure how radical I am. And the radical European-American communities in the United States are not any less racist than the liberal and conservative communities.

Racism courses through the blood of all of us who are European American. It courses through us as individuals. It courses through our families and our relationships. It courses through the organizations we run and the systems we control.

This is a reflection about denial, including the denial of racism at Riverside Church. Riverside Church seems to ask often what leadership it can offer the church, the nation, the world. Denying there is racism here is not the leadership that is needed. Folks know how to do denial; especially when conflict arises, almost always the first thing said is, "The issue here is not racism." Denial is great, maybe even greatest in so-called liberal institutions.

The greatest gift that Riverside Church could offer our nation is some honest self-disclosure of how racism is a reality here. We could model how to let down our defenses -- how to lessen the amount of energy put into denial and honestly face the racism that courses through our bloodstream.

THE GOSPEL OF LUKE speaks of a widow knocking on the door of an unjust judge (chapter 18). Luke says the judge neither feared God nor respected people.

But the woman kept coming to the door and saying, "Vindicate me against my adversary" (18:3). For a while the judge refused to respond. But then the judge thought, "I don't fear God. I don't respect people. But this widow bothers me. She keeps bothering me. She is wearing me out. She might do violence to me. She keeps coming to my door. What is it she wants? Whatever it is, she can have it."

Verse 18:5 is translated, "She will wear me out by her continual coming," but the literal translation of that line is, "lest she come at last and beat me." Fear that the widow is angry enough to do violence to the judge is translated "she is wearing me out." At any rate, day by day, the judge "took a beating" from her. Finally, the judge grants justice. From this story, my questions regarding anti-racism are: What is the widow's organizing strategy? When are we the widow? When are we the judge?

The Widow's Organizing Strategy

The widow stays on the case, day and night, day after day, week after week. Two things are taken for granted in the story: Her case is just, and the judge is unjust. Neither of these is up for second-guessing. Seeking justice, she stays after the judge.

Like the widow, the Asian-American communities knock on the door of the unjust judge and say, "The greatest increase in racially motivated violence in this country is against Asian Americans. We are scapegoated for the failures of your economic system. You talk about how well our kids do in school. You don't say anything about our kids who don't do well.

"You talk about what good businesspeople we are. But then you red line all communities from us except the African-American community. You say, 'Go ahead and build your business on the backs of African Americans. It's the American Way.' Then you present the problems of the cities as a conflict between Africans and Asians. We built your railroads and we spent time in your concentration camps. We know what's happening. We will keep coming to your door. You will continually take a beating from us. Like the widow, Asian Americans want justice."

Also, like the widow, the Hispanic-American communities knock on the door of the unjust judge and say, "You develop 'English only' campaigns as a way to exclude us. You write immigration laws that leave us carrying cards in an apartheid-like system. You call us 'aliens' as if we were from another world. All of us are suspect when we apply for a job.

"We work in fields and are sprayed with poisons that are on the food you eat, but you won't listen to us for your benefit or our benefit. You put radioactive waste in our communities. You continue to wear Levi's even though we are boycotting them as the Levi Strauss Co. so easily closes plants in the United States and moves to Costa Rica, leaving Latinos without work or medical benefits.

"You have Puerto Rican independence workers in your prisons as political prisoners. Yes, political prisoners, here in the United States. You love to present urban problems as a struggle between African Americans and us. And then you slip out to the suburbs or gentrified places or university protected places. We know what's going on. Like the widow, we will keep coming to your door. You will continually take a beating from us. Hispanic Americans want justice."

Also, like the widow, the Native American communities knock on the door of the unjust judge and say, "We are many nations and we have treaties with you. Our concern is for our legal rights contained in these treaties. You grant yourself religious freedom but fail to protect our traditional religious practices. You have tried all kinds of assimilation practices. You desecrate our religious places and keep our ancestors' bones in your museums. You pretend we are honored by the 'tomahawk chop' of the Atlanta Braves, by Chief Wahoo of the Cleveland Indians, and by the Washington Redskins.

"We are committed still to sovereignty in Hawaii, to sovereignty in Alaska, and to sovereignty for our 300 nations within the continental United States. The three most important issues for us are sovereignty, sovereignty, and sovereignty. We will keep coming to your door. You will continue to take a beating from us. Like the widow, Native Americans want justice."

Also, like the widow, the African-American communities knock at the door of the unjust judge and say, "The economic disparity between the median income of European Americans and us is wider now than it was 10 years ago. There are less of us in graduate schools and professional schools and medical schools than 10 years ago. As African Americans, we own less land in the United States than 10 years ago and 1/50 of the land owned by us at the turn of the century.

"You have demonized the African-American community and the result is genocide. You present young African-American men as street savages and young African-American women as having babies just to earn welfare. Your U.S. Justice Department is 15 times more likely to prosecute an African-American elected official than a European-American elected official. You even pick a few of us who will act white and carry your white perspective as a way of deflecting an anti-racist analysis. We will keep coming to your door. You will continue to take a beating from us. Like the widow, African Americans want justice."

Most of the work against racism in the United States is done by people of color. That's the past, that's the present, and that is probably the future. Like the widow, communities of color work day and night against racial injustice. But what is the role of European Americans in working against our illness? When are we the judge? When are we the widow? We have four choices to make.

Denial or Disclosure

So much energy is spent by those of us who are white in denial of our racism. It is so easy for us to focus on the racism of other places and deny the racism of our own places. We choose denial, but we could choose disclosure.

Recently, I was responsible for a World Council of Churches/National Council of Churches visit in Los Angeles. One of the things we planned was a "procession of the cross" traveling around downtown Los Angeles, stopping at points of power where communities of color are oppressed. We had a litany of the procession, but I had not preread it.

As we were traveling from place to place, I noticed that a number of African Americans were dropping back. I dropped back to listen and experienced distance, disappointment, and anger. First, the litany called the uprising in LA a riot rather than a rebellion; second, all the leaders of the procession were white; third, all of the specifics mentioned were of Central America and there was no mention of Africa, not even South Africa; fourth, a quote from Job was used in which God's anger was expressed in Job's skin turning black; and fifth, the confrontation with power was only symbolic, not actualized.

No one intended to be racist, but the outcome was racist. And I was responsible. I had not ensured the inclusive decision making that would have prevented such exclusiveness. All kinds of thoughts went through my mind. I needed for someone to tell me I was all right, that I really hadn't been racist.

My friends did me a favor. They loved me by confronting me until I was ready to drop the denial and disclose, even to myself, the truth of what I had committed and omitted. I was reminded of Paul saying, "The good I would do, I don't do, but the very evil I hate is exactly what I do." I had gone to Los Angeles to set up an anti-racist event and the first major part of it was racist. That's the truth. No amount of denial will change the reality.

The more we choose denial, the more we side with the unjust judge. The more open we are to disclosure, the more we are able to join the organizing strategies of the widow and communities of color.

Doubt or Belief

Our second choice is to doubt or believe the experience of people of color. We find it so easy, as European Americans, to doubt the experience of people of color. When a person of color says a situation is racist our first response is "prove it." And when we say "prove it," we mean use methods of proof that are acceptable to the white community. We want verifiable data. We would go a long way if we could just stop when a person of color says a situation is racist and say, "I want to understand how you are experiencing this situation as racism."

To do this, we will have to deal with some of the racist tapes we have. Our racist tapes play even when we don't expect them to, soothing stereotypes into our ears and blasting stereotypes into our minds, such as: White kids hanging out on a corner are white kids on a corner; African-American kids on a corner are a gang. Or Asian Americans are cunning and inscrutable -- they don't look us in the eye; they're dishonest in their business practices. Or people of color use food stamps and drive Cadillacs.

I've tried ignoring these tapes; they don't ignore well. I've tried erasing them. I've tried being liberal and pretending they don't exist. But these tapes are with all of us who are white. You may not have mine, but you have your own. We need to acknowledge them and confront them with the true experience of people of color. Then we can begin functioning in communities, in relationships, and not out of the stereotypes of our racist tapes. We can choose to believe the experience of people of color.

Control or Claiming Our Own European Identity

In the 1960s, the black community told those of us who were white to go back to our communities and work against racism. We went back, but we forgot why. According to the Peoples Institute for Survival and Beyond in New Orleans, which is one of the best anti-racist training groups in the country, we lost interest in anti-racism. We weren't, and aren't, as tenacious as the widow. We turned to other issues and movements, all of them built on the civil rights movement and all draining energy from it.

As whites, we have dropped out of the anti-racist movement and kept control of other progressive movements that are horribly hindered by our racism. Our third choice in whether we are the judge or the widow is between control or claiming our own European-American identities.

As European Americans, we can put our energy into creating a new European-American identity that has much to offer to the America yet to be discovered. We can put our energy into what we have to offer to political coalitions, rather than putting energy into controlling movements.

Many European Americans have fought for justice throughout the history of the United States, but their stories have been erased from history. Anne Braden, a courageous struggler for racial justice mentioned positively by Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in his Letter from Birmingham Jail, and still on the case, points to these stories of whites who have fought for racial justice throughout U.S. history. They need to be recovered and reclaimed. And we need to be angry about their exclusion. We need to create a European-American identity that is anti-racist and not based on the control of others.

Non-Racism or Anti-Racism

Many would affirm that the call for European Americans is to be non-racist. So many want to develop strategies that don't even mention the word "racism." They say that the word "racism" is so negative a word that it is counterproductive.

To me, racism, like the beast in the book of Revelation, has been struck a decisive blow by Christ. Racism is not forever, but it is forever in my lifetime. The beast of racism is wounded, however, and a wounded beast is wilder and potentially more violent. We need to be more cunning, more creative, and more communal than ever for the beast's damage is worse now than ever.

On the other hand, it is my experience that there are individuals in every community and every church who are fed up with racism. They know its cost not only to communities of color but also to the European-American community. They want to act against racism.

I agree emphatically with Joe Barndt, author of Dismantling Racism: The Continuing Challenge to White America, who says that anti-racism is a positive term. We have to decide how we see the problem. Do we believe that getting rid of racism means a loss for us who are European Americans? Is it something we do for others and we pay a big price? Or is getting rid of racism facing our own addiction to power and control -- an addiction that destroys others and ourselves?

We need a fearless and searching moral inventory. We need to learn to forgive ourselves and find ways to make amends. What is at stake is our own humanity. If I understand the gospel, there is no greater loss for us than separation from God and each other. In fact, racism separates us not only from God and others, but from creation itself and from our very own being. We live separated. We cause the separation. Our own humanity pays the price.

We need to understand that we stand before the unjust judge, not just for others but for our own sake also. In our need for an anti-racist European-American identity, we are not joining the widow's coalition. We are the widow -- demanding justice from the unjust judge.

WE CAN'T BE BOTH judge and widow. The judge thinks that it is possible to act in non-racist ways and tries to do so without any significant change of power or privilege. The widow knows the absolute necessity to be anti-racist.

We need to face the ways we try to be the widow without giving up any of the prerogatives of the unjust judge. If we keep trying to be both judge and widow, then liberal racism is an apt description of us. If we can let go of the privilege and prerogatives of the unjust judge, our lives will declare that the phrase "liberal racism" is in fact an oxymoron. It is our choice.

Joseph E. Agne was racial justice program director of the Prophetic Justice Unit of the National Council of Churches when this article appeared. This article was adapted from a sermon he preached August 23, 1992, at Riverside Church in New York City.