Recently a student asked if we could get (socially distanced) coffee. He had recently had a somewhat contentious conversation with another member of his church surrounding the shooting of Jacob Blake. The conversation turned to accusations of critical race theory and cultural Marxism. This student admitted he did not engage further because he did not know what critical race theory was. I assured him that, in all likelihood, neither did the person with whom he was speaking.
My doctoral work was a major in Christian ethics with a research focus on racial ethics and a minor in biblical theology. While my major allows me to speak to this subject with some confidence, I believe my minor may offer better clarity.
When I began to study biblical theology, I had little clue what it was. I had heard the term in Mark Dever’s Nine Marks of a Healthy Church where it was described as the Old and New Testaments’ metanarrative pointing to Jesus.[1] I had read a volume or two of D.A. Carson’s phenomenal series, New Studies in Biblical Theology, most notably J. Daniel Hayes’ work on a biblical theology of race and ethnicity.[2] But it wasn’t until I began working through my minor’s comprehensive bibliography that I saw how much there was to know, and how little of that knowledge I possessed.
As an academic discipline, there is difficulty in settling on a single definition of biblical theology. Even as there is a general consensus of its inception as a unique discipline by J.P. Gabler in 1787, the development and schools of thought which followed are anything but united. There are those like James Barr who believe the field to be an exclusively academic and historical work in which there is little room for faith. Others like Francis Watson believe the field to be exclusively ecclesial work which sets itself to prescriptive theology. Varied definitions function less in opposition of one another as much as they fit onto a spectrum of thought—a conversation that is part and parcel of any academic discipline.
It must be said, and said again, that critical race theory (CRT) is an academic discipline. Like biblical theology, it has a formal source in the work of Derrick Bell, but what followed could hardly be called uniform. So what is critical race theory? Or, better stated, what is the range of critical race theory? There are some that hold CRT to be an all-encompassing worldview while others regard it only as a tool to measure and combat racism. Some who believe that racism is a permanent state while others view it as a problem to solve.
Introductions, summaries, and focal studies of the discipline can begin to inform a general understanding of the field.[3] But a cogent understanding of the internal use and conversations is only begun by those that have immersed themselves in the field. The problem is that many who utilize these terms and critiques have little grasp on the field but speak as authorities on the matter. This is not to say that these conversations should never consult these terms or ideas, but that nuance is necessary to recognize the range of this loaded terminology.
Language is employed to convey a particular meaning within a particular context. If you remove that context, or implement it in a different context, there is a great chance that the intended meaning has shifted or possibly been lost entirely. The jargon of any field—academic, medical, industrial, etc.—is not a group of lofty insider codes. It is language within context. This language can be a helpful shorthand within that context, but also unnecessarily confusing or dismissive outside of it. The greatest danger is when jargon is used to convey only the extremes of a concept or conversation.
It is the extremes of the spectrum (actual or conceived) which build the best straw men. It would be ignorant and abusive to suggest that every democrat is an ardent supporter of late-term abortions, or that every republican is xenophobic. Might that be true of some democrats or republicans? Of course. But the sweeping partisanship and vitriolic landscape that is the present political climate need not also describe our conversations within the church. To label and dismiss anyone with whom there is an apparent disagreement is to identify more with the pharisee than it is to identify with Christ.
Does all of this mean that critical race theory or cultural Marxism are exclusively bogeymen drummed up as the next red scare? Of course not. They are very real ideas that can be expressed in harmful extremes. But to use the terms as a line in the sand is to unnecessarily divide and forfeit an opportunity for productive dialogue.
Followers of Jesus would do well to be charitable in their dealings. It may just be the case that their apparent disagreements are only such to the degree that loaded terminology obfuscates dialogue. This is not to say that there is nothing on which they may disagree, but nuance is a greater companion than fog. As James Leo Garrett would often assert in his classroom, “Only when you can state your opponent's position so well that they themselves say, ‘Yes, that's what I believe,’ can you then begin to debate.” To do otherwise is to simply speak past one another rather than engage, understand, and love.
Instead, the church ought to cultivate space where the application of Christian theology has room for nuance and charity. Where a humble orthodoxy guides candid and loving conversation around questions concerning systemic expressions of racism, responses to racial injustices and disparities, and the application of the spirit of Christ in everything. Where disagreements can walk away from a conversation without walking away from fellowship. Anything less is out of step with the kingdom of God.
Notes:
[1]Dever, Mark. Nine Marks of a Healthy Church. Wheaton, IL: Crossway, 2013.
[2]Hays, J. Daniel. From Every People and Nation: A Biblical Theology of Race. Downers Grove, IL: Inter Varsity Press, 2006.
[3]Delgado, Richard and Jean Stefancic, Critical Race Theory: An Introduction, 2nd ed. New York, NY: New York University Press, 2012.
This resource is part of the series More than Imago Dei: Theological Explorations on Race. Click here to explore more resources from this series.
Paul Morrison serves as lead pastor at Grantwood Community Church in suburban Cleveland, OH. He is also a co-founder and director of the Ohio Theological Institute. Paul holds a PhD in Christian Ethics from Southwestern Baptist Theological Seminary and is a member of the St. Peter Fellowship of the Center for Pastor Theologians.
