Sermon Black History Sunday, 13 October 2024

By Revd Guy Hewitt

There is no longer Jew or Greek; no longer slave or free; no longer male and female, for all of you are one in Christ Jesus.

Galatians. 3:2 8

I want to begin our conversation for Black History Month reflecting on 1 John 4: 16: God is love, and those who live in love live in God, and God live in them. [By this everyone will know that you are my disciples, if you have love for one another. (John 13: 35)] All the creeds, doctrines, theologies are manifested in a single act: love.

Notwithstanding the simplicity of the message, humanity continually fails to live out the Great Command, as told in Galatians 5:14, the whole law is summed up in a single commandment, ‘You shall love your neighbour as yourself.’ Why is this? Galatians 5:17 tells us, ‘what the flesh desires is opposed to the Spirit, and what the Spirit desires is opposed to the flesh…’’.

Humanity remains locked in a battle between our preoccupation with earthly things that give a sense of power, control, and security, rather than heavenly things that ensure a place in eternity; and in our failings, we perpetuate things that divide rather than unite us. [And we knew better. The Revd Morgan Godwyn, who had served in Virginia and Barbados, disappeared after publishing in 1685 Trade preferred before Religion in which he condemned the Crown for slavery, stating: ‘We have exceeded the worst of infidels by our first enslaving and then murdering men’s souls. For how can it be endured that a Nation once so famous for zeal and piety…should prostrate herself to that foul idol mammon, and worship trade.’]

In ancient times, disability was considered a punishment for sin. Lefties were once treated with suspicion. The Latin words for lefthanded is ‘sinister’. Today, in some places albinism is a still discriminated against. Too often, we reject what is different.

Similarly, consider the popular hymn ‘All Things Bright and Beautiful’; what many are unaware of is the redacted third verse: The rich man in his castle, the poor man at his gate, He made them, high or lowly, and ordered their estate. 

Consider how the hymnist, the wife of the Primate Archbishop of Ireland, produced this hymn during the Irish potato famine (1848) and notwithstanding her deep faith, the horror of millions dying of starvation, and despite the parable of the Rich Man and Lazarus (Luke 16: 19), she couldn’t fathom that God did not ordain for some to be rich and many others poor.

As we commemorate Black History Month, we need to accept that England’s social and economic history is in part written in African blood, particularly due to transatlantic African chattel enslavement.

This is important as modern racism – the binary of Black and White that underscores social discord today – was born out of transatlantic slavery. In the words of Eric Williams, in Capitalism and Slavery, ‘slavery was not born of racism: rather, racism was the consequence of slavery,’ specifically labour needed to develop the so-called ‘New World’, after the Native Americans were decimated. [Capitalism and slavery worked hand-in-hand, with the slave trade and the plantation system creating the capital for the industrial revolution. The plantation system even helped develop and inspire new industrial techniques for later capitalists. The proponents of capitalism held that free markets in goods and labour and the ability to invest money for profit would make the world a better place, but this period also saw the development of a widespread system of African chattel enslavement. Capitalism cannot be conceptually or historically separated from the institution of slavery.]

There was no greater corruption of the Gospel that the odious comingling of religion, politics, and wealth accumulation to the institutionalisation of transatlantic slavery. This great crime against humanity that enriched nations and individuals alike and provided the financial and organisational means to develop our modern world, was devised politically, constructed legally, justified scripturally, and accepted socially. [The colonialised version of Christianity was a series of papal bulls issued by Pope Nicolas V between 1452 and 1455 that granted Spain and Portugal (and later other European powers) the right to enslave sub-Saharan Africans.] [When Europeans first visited the African continent, the cradle of humankind and civilisation, they encountered empires and cities as advanced as their own. However, with the so-called ‘discovery’ of the exploitation of these new colonial possessions required a workforce that neither European nor could supply.  The roots of modern Western racism are located in greed and a Eurocentric narcissism that conveyed a sense of dominion over all things. Through pseudoscience, social theory, and a colonialised version of Christianity, humanity was dichotomised between the ‘civilised’ and the ‘savages.’]

This system of racial bias, instituted hundreds of years ago, manifests today in the current disparities in wealth, education, health and criminal justice outcomes, among others.

The recent Race Riots that further rent England’s social landscape, highlights that notwithstanding King Charles III’s proclamation that our nation’s ‘diversity is our greatest strength’, this power is yet to be realised as our kingdom remains disunited ethnically.

This racism is fermented not only by far-right politicians and extremist social media influencers, but the dominant zero-sum paradigm that perpetrates the myth that progress by one group comes at the expense of the other. Notwithstanding the net financial benefits of migration, Black and brown people, refugees and asylum seekers, are still portrayed as ‘takers’.[For centuries England has lied to her white offspring, satiating them on tales of Empire and colonial benevolence instead of liberating them with the incontrovertible truth of exploitation, oppression, marginalisation, and genocide. The largely white working-class men who recently embraced racist violence, are part of a long, sad history of white masculinity that has often been defined and reinforced through the subjugation of racialised, and gendered others.]

Nonetheless, I was reassured by the thousands of anti-racism protesters of all races, ethnicities, religions, and background who took to the streets across England during the race riots; for change begins with us.

But too often, God-fearing people dismiss ongoing racism: the innate mistrusts, the microaggressions, the inequities at work, the disproportionate police stops, the lower-quality healthcare and educational outcomes, as aberrations, rather than inherent structural biases that are an endemic part of the system.

But we are called to act. There is an the indelible link between our faith and public life as reinforced at confirmation with our vow to defend the weak, and to seek peace and justice. However, while we readily proclaim these words, it is challenging to live out this promise.

In one of his most famous sermons, ‘Loving Your Enemies’, Martin Luther King, Jr. preached: Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that. Through the God of Abraham as manifested in Christianity, Judaism and Islam, there is a consistent message of love of neighbour.

The Church’s commitment to racial justice isn’t to reflect demographic trends, or to be socially responsive pursuing equality, diversity and inclusion, both admirable pursuits; rather, we choose to stand against the evil and pernicious sin of racism.

Addressing institutional racism and racial sin is not a theological addendum. Confronting the evils in society and embracing the marginalised is essential to our identity in Christ (Luke 4: 16–21). This is a missional imperative as set out in the Anglican Communion’s fourth Mark of Mission, ‘to transform unjust structures of society’ and our Bold Outcome to ‘fully represent the communities we serve’.

The racial justice mandate flows not from identity politics but from our primary identity in Christ, for it is in the character and being of Christ that we find the reason and motivation to combat racism. In Christ, our differences are not erased but rather embraced, valuing the unique ways we each reflect the imago Dei. Every neighbour, regardless of colour, class or creed, or any other protected characteristic, is an image-bearer of God, and as such a sister or brother.

Our differences and protected characteristics are not a la carte options where we can choose those things we are comfortable with. God calls us to love each another unconditionally and through this be united in him.

Our shared identity as new creations in Christ (Galatians 3: 28) centres the theology of racial justice. We are called to be a ‘household of God’ with ‘Christ Jesus himself as the cornerstone’, ‘built together as a spiritual house’ (Ephesians 2: 19–22, 1 Peter 2: 5); and not just a household, but a single body (1 Corinthians 12: 13).

As such, when fellow Christians are told that the body has no need of them, as happened with the Windrush generation, or as with refugees or asylum-seekers nowadays, the whole body is diminished. When there are persistent calls from some brothers and sisters, stating that their voices are not being heard, that their contributions not recognised, and that their full participation not welcomed, we are called to respond.

Revelation 7: 9 paints an enthusiastic picture of the multitude from every nation, from all tribes and peoples and languages worshiping together; a gathering of God’s family. This is not an eternal hope but for the Kingdom to be realised in the here and now.

It’s critical to recognise that, to be unified in God, this multitude of worshipers aren’t required to lose their distinctiveness or other protected characteristics. God is glorified in the things that make us different from one another.

We need to consider the essential ingredient to bring an end to racial injustice is through the Love Command. Notwithstanding the will or intent, I do not believe that any politician, policy-directive, legislation, march or protest, or any amount of anti-racism training or conscientisation can alone eradicate racism; for racism is sin and a world enslaved to sin cannot alone overcome sin.vii

The only way to truly end racism is through faith, specifically through the countercultural revolution of love. Love covers over a multitude of sins (1 Peter 4: 8); there is no prejudice in divine love. [Racism, and the ethnocultural biases that are a legacy of our failed humanity, are not social stains to be washed away, but a gaping wound in the body politic that needs to be cleansed by truth-telling, restorative justice, and other meaningful acts in order to heal.]

My multiple heritages – African, Asian and Mediterranean – make me aware that the quest for racial justice cannot be achieved unless we are all committed, and that this isn’t a struggle between race groups, but finding unity across them.

As a society, we need to redefine who we are: no longer ‘multicultural’ – comprising multiple cultural and ethnic groups – but rather ‘intercultural’ characterised by understanding, respect and engagement of each other.

If, as members of the body of Christ, our identity is intertwined with others, how are we not humiliated before the Cross, knowing that we have failed to adequately protect the dignity of all our sisters and brothers?

As members of the body of Christ, our task, enabled by the Spirit of the living God, is to humbly but fearlessly engage in the work of racial justice and other forms of social inclusion. [As we are at the ten-year countdown to the bicentenary of the Emancipation Act, which came into force on 1 August 1834 to abolish slavery, let us work for Emancipation Day to be commemorated in the UK, as done in the US, Canada, South Africa, and across the Caribbean.

Let us include Emancipation Day as a day of significance, alongside Holocaust Memorial Day, Windrush Day, and Remembrance Day, honouring the past the past, strengthening social cohesion across Britain by using the next decade to attend to the challenges from the superdiversity of Britain’s social landscape, and writing a new narrative of unity, love, and peace for the future.]

Imagine if we, the body of Christ, made up of every nation, tribe, people and language, took the lead in showing a hurting, divided world what real love looks like. If we can imagine it, Christ can do it.

Ending, through God’s grace and love, racism, ethnicism, and all forms of discrimination liberates us all, victim, allies, and perpetrator, transforming us into God’s image.

In this journey to find unity in Christ, let’s keep faith and focus knowing (Micah 6: 8) that what God requires of us is to do justice, to love mercy, and to walk humbly with him. This is a Kairos moment that I pray we embrace with all of our strength of mind, body and soul.