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![Be the Bridge: Pursuing God's Heart for Racial Reconciliation by [Latasha Morrison, Daniel Hill, Jennie Allen]](https://m.media-amazon.com/images/I/51+cp4sCoEL._SY346_.jpg)
Be the Bridge: Pursuing God's Heart for Racial Reconciliation Kindle Edition
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WINNER OF THE CHRISTIAN BOOK AWARD® • Winner of the Christianity Today Book Award • A leading advocate for racial reconciliation calls Christians to move toward deeper understanding in the midst of a divisive culture.
In an era where we seem to be increasingly divided along racial lines, many are hesitant to step into the gap, fearful of saying or doing the wrong thing. At times the silence, particularly within the church, seems deafening.
But change begins with an honest conversation among a group of Christians willing to give a voice to unspoken hurts, hidden fears, and mounting tensions. These ongoing dialogues have formed the foundation of a global movement called Be the Bridge—a nonprofit organization whose goal is to equip the church to have a distinctive and transformative response to racism and racial division.
In this perspective-shifting book, founder Latasha Morrison shows how you can participate in this incredible work and replicate it in your own community. With conviction and grace, she examines the historical complexities of racism. She expertly applies biblical principles, such as lamentation, confession, and forgiveness, to lay the framework for restoration.
Along with prayers, discussion questions, and other resources to enhance group engagement, Be the Bridge presents a compelling vision of what it means for every follower of Jesus to become a bridge builder—committed to pursuing justice and racial unity in light of the gospel.
- LanguageEnglish
- PublisherWaterBrook
- Publication dateOctober 15, 2019
- File size4404 KB
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Editorial Reviews
Review
“When it comes to the intersection of race, privilege, justice, and the church, Tasha is without question my best teacher. Be the Bridge is THE tool I wish to put in every set of hands. Put frankly, if we followed the path she writes about, the path of humility and repentance, courage and action, we would see the end of racism. It really is that simple. Tasha is one of the most important leaders in my generation.”—Jen Hatmaker, New York Times best-selling author of For the Love and Of Mess and Moxie
“This book is a must-read primer for anyone seeking to be a peacemaker rather than just a peacekeeper. Latasha Morrison equips and encourages us to do the difficult but necessary work of dismantling the walls of systemic racism, confronting implicit racial bias while establishing an anti-racist purpose. For those wanting to understand and embody the deeply woven fabric of racial reconciliation and anti-racism work, this book will expose, educate, elucidate, and ultimately make you an intentionally conscientious neighbor.”—Pastor Darryl Ford, Ikon Community Church
“When I want to know how to do the hard work of reconciliation and peacemaking, Latasha Morrison is one of the first people I go to. She’s introduced me to a new way of thinking while bringing together people of different perspectives, opinions, and histories. When she calls us to be a bridge to connect people to people, her challenge is more powerful, because she’s already been the bridge that has gotten us this far.”—Reggie Joiner, founder and CEO of Orange
“Through Be the Bridge Latasha Morrison offers a feast to the body of Christ. Vivid storytelling combines with sharp exegesis to draw readers onto the bridge of racial healing and justice. There, Morrison calls the body to face the truth—the whole truth and nothing but the truth. She does not pull punches. She does not make it pretty. Yet, this consummate bridge-builder lays foundations that hold the tension—and hold us together on the journey toward God’s kind of love.”—Lisa Sharon Harper, president and founder of FreedomRoad and author of The Very Good Gospel
“I have known Latasha Morrison for over for a decade. Her commitment to racial healing, reconciliation, and unity is unparalleled. Her extraordinary new book, Be the Bridge, is the blueprint the Christian church has been waiting for.”—Lee Allen Jenkins, author, speaker, and senior pastor of Eagles Nest Church
“Tasha Morrison gives us much needed guidance in this book on how to explore the tough dynamics of race, identity, and culture that doesn’t focus on simple, shallow solutions but helps us see in profound ways how we can transform ourselves and thus our communities in the way we act and think about race. Tasha masterfully weaves together her personal stories and experiences with history to make us aware of the human impact of racism—and then gives us the tools to respond. Tackling issues of race can seem daunting and overwhelming, but by providing us practical steps to engage laced in grace, truth, and mutuality, Tasha meets us where we are and helps us become better-formed disciples of Jesus to pursue a more holistic vision of the Good News for all people.”—Jenny Yang, vice president of advocacy and policy at World Relief
“Tasha Morrison has been an encourager, a trustworthy friend, and profound teacher to me over the past few years. Through this book, she can be that to you as well. Her words are full of truth and love, and will cause you to stop and wrestle with your own biased ideas and perspectives that may otherwise go unchallenged. I’m adding this book to my ‘everyone that loves Jesus should read this’ list!”—Jamie Ivey, bestselling author of If You Only Knew and host of The Happy Hour with Jamie Ivey podcast
“Be the Bridge is essential reading for everyone. With great courage and compassion Latasha chose to pursue conversations on race and racial equity and in doing so birthed a global movement that reached beyond church walls and is touching society. Her work is vital because responding to racism and racial division—in our schools, businesses, communities, politics and yes even our churches—is something that we all desperately need to do. Our future depends on it. This phenomenal book is a message, a model and a mentor for exploring how to pursue justice and racial unity in the light of the gospel. It has the potential to change your life and transform your community. Buy it immediately, and join in.”—Jo Saxton, co-host of Lead Stories Podcast and author of The Dream of You
“Latasha Morrison is a champion of racial reconciliation and an advocate for racial justice. Through her words and her life, she exemplifies why we must face the hard truths of history in order to affect change in the present and build a better future. Allow Latasha’s words to challenge you, encourage you to question, and inspire you to be a bridge builder.”—Amena Brown, author of How to Fix a Broken Record and host of HER with Amena Brown podcast
“Tasha Morrison has the remarkable ability to listen with compassion and cast vision about the preferred future. Her serving on staff with us at Gateway Church in Austin shifted the trajectory of our church family. Now you can discover how to Be the Bridge through her thoughtful, insightful, and practical book. The world needs more Tasha Morrisons, and her book can help us make progress towards the multiethnic kingdom of God.”—Dr. Eric Bryant, campus pastor at Gateway Church, South Austin, and author of Not Like Me
About the Author
Excerpt. © Reprinted by permission. All rights reserved.
1
How We Begin
A Posture of Humility
The professor stood at the front of my African American History class, educating freshmen about the African civilizations prior to the Atlantic slave trade. For the first time, I heard the full story of my heritage beyond slavery, the unwhitewashed truth. And all of it felt so significant to me.
As I listened, a feeling of discomfort set in. Why hadn’t I heard about the African empires—the kings, queens, and ingenuity of the people—prior to college? Why didn’t I learn this in high school? Why didn’t my family teach me? Why had no one introduced me to any of the scores of books on the slave trade?
Sure, I’d been taught simple Black history. “Your ancestors were slaves,” my high school teachers said. “Your ancestors were sharecroppers,” my parents taught me. I knew that before President Lincoln freed the slaves, Harriet Tubman had an underground railroad. I seemed to remember that maybe Frederick Douglass was part of that railroad. I knew Douglass had written a few books and published a newspaper. I knew about the Civil War, but there was a massive hole in my understanding of history. What had really happened between that war and the time when Martin Luther King Jr. marched for expanded civil rights? I didn’t know. And why did America seem so bogged down in racial division and discrimination so many years after the Civil Rights Act of 1964 was passed? I couldn’t quite say, at least not before I took that class.
I listened to my professor at East Carolina University share the unfiltered history, and as I received this fuller truth about African culture and my African American heritage, something shook loose. Why was I so uncomfortable with hearing this?
Underneath my shame and embarrassment, I felt ignorant. Ignorant of the historical context of my people. Ignorant of my own roots. I wondered how the White students in the class felt. Did they feel as ignorant as I did? Were they filled with embarrassment and shame by what their ancestors did to my people?
That history was part of our truth, the richness of the African cultures before the institution of the slave trade by White colonialists. It was a sort of shared history, even though my ancestors and the ancestors of the White students had been on opposites sides of a divide. Now we were together, facing the full truth of our past, and it was awkward for all of us.
When we lack historical understanding, we lose part of our identity. We don’t know where we came from and don’t know what there is to celebrate or lament. Likewise, without knowing our history, it can be difficult to know what needs repairing, what needs reconciling. As I sat in the class, I realized I had a lot to learn about my ancestral identity, about our collective history, and about the history of our country. And over the course of that semester, as I discovered more about where I came from and who I am, a sense of pride began to well up. I realized my very existence was a miracle in the making. I came from brave people, a dignified people, a resilient people. I came from a significant people, and this made me significant. As I learned more and more about the injustices wrought against my ancestors, I began to realize that we deserved justice. This realization awakened within me indignation, pain, and a holy discontent.
This holy discontent intensified after I graduated from college and began my career in corporate America. I worked for a predominantly White Fortune 500 company in Atlanta, an office in which very few people understood the history of Black America, much less the full implications of our country’s discriminatory past. When I later moved to Austin, Texas, in 2012 to join the staff of an almost entirely White church with an almost entirely White staff, that holy discontent reached a boiling point.
As I became friends with church and staff members, I began to see our historical and cultural disconnection. We had different worldviews, experiences, and perspectives. I’d come to learn the ways the White church in America had perpetuated slavery, segregation, and racism. I had learned how so many churches used and abused Scripture to justify the practices, how some denominations even split over slavery. (The Southern Baptist Convention, for instance, was formed in 1845 as a result of a split within the Baptist denomination over whether or not slave owners could serve as missionaries.) My White friends had no connection with my heritage, had no idea how much had been taken from my people when we were sold into slavery. For the most part, they didn’t understand the heritage of racism baked into their own social and cultural structures, including their church.
It was a good church, full of good people, but I came to realize that I was the first and only African American person many of them had ever worked with. As a person of color, I’d integrated within their majority culture. I had become familiar with their movies, music, and fashion. I listened to contemporary Christian music and was familiar with what some of my Black friends call “White worship.” You know it: the moody guitar-driven music that sounds like Coldplay. I watched Friends, The Office, Gilmore Girls, and even the Hallmark Channel. I was comfortable and familiar with White culture, but they’d never had to learn about the history or culture of my people. If I quoted a line from The Color Purple or Doug E. Fresh, my friends were lost. And because I was the only Black person in so many of their lives, I became the go-to source for answers to all their questions about hair and music and all things Black. It felt as if people had saved all their “ask a Black person” questions for me, and they unloaded until it almost drove me insane.
But being the point person for all things African American wasn’t the only thing that led to my deepening disillusionment. A racial disconnect and a surprising level of ignorance about the divisions between our cultures was deeply rooted in the way they did church, and the more I encountered it, the more broken my heart became. Church leaders were slow to acknowledge, let alone lament, the continuing racism in our country. They didn’t have any understanding of the prevalence of police brutality against brown bodies in our country or how so many of my Black brothers are pulled over simply for being Black in a White neighborhood. They equated working hard with success, and they dismissed the reality of systemic issues that create barriers for people of color. They’d never been followed in a department store for being Black, never been stopped and questioned simply for walking down the street. They had always been given the benefit of the doubt, believed to be innocent until proven guilty. They couldn’t see the privileges they enjoyed simply because of the rules set by White society. And sometimes church leaders even referred to non-White communities with terms like they, them, and those people.
The longer I worked in the church, the more I came to see that it wasn’t a credible witness for racial reconciliation. This wasn’t true of only that local congregation, either. As I spoke with my Black friends across the country, I came to understand just how divided the non-White culture and majority-culture churches are. But why is it this way?
I began to ask questions of and have conversations with my White friends within the church about this topic, and as I did, I found that many were oblivious to the full scope of American history and its multicultural realities. With that realization, I made a conscious decision: I’d do my best to build a bridge between the majority and non-White church cultures. That bridge might open space for my White friends to better understand my history, culture, and experience and would provide room for my non-White culture friends to share their pain. I didn’t know exactly where to start, so I started simply. I invited my White friends to watch the movie based on Alice Walker’s 1982 novel The Color Purple.
As I stretched deeper into this bridge-building process, a few friends joined with me and we formed a racial-reconciliation discussion group. We came together under an umbrella, the shared idea that we could and must do better, and doing better meant showing up to listen and learn. We met once a month to discuss racial tensions in America. Around our reconciliation table, I shared about the history of racism in American Christianity and challenged us to remove the words them, those, and they from our vocabularies, at least in reference to people who represent a different culture from our own. I asked my friends to explore their own family histories, the ways they might have been complicit in racism. Together, we talked, laughed, cried, ate, and prayed. Sometimes we alternated formal meetings with social events to get to know one another in more casual contexts. We pushed deeper into reconciliation and relationship, and as we did we found we understood one another a little better. That understanding brought such healing.
A few months into our meeting, the landscape of American race relations was exposed. Ferguson, Missouri, erupted with violent protests in the wake of the fatal shooting of an eighteen-year-old Black man, and the surrounding events would shape many of us in the group. Many of my new friends had never before been proximate with an ethnically diverse group. And so as we had hard and raw conversations about Michael Brown, policing, and Black lives, space opened for anger, grief, and empathy. Many of my White friends admitted that if it wasn’t for the group, they might have ignored the context or dismissed the events of Ferguson. Attending the monthly circles ensured they wouldn’t remain silent, wouldn’t be complicit. As they became aware of racial injustice and the history of discrimination, it become impossible for them to turn a blind eye.
These conversations set the stage for the launch of Be the Bridge, an organization committed to bringing the reconciliation power of the gospel to the racial divide in America. As we’ve replicated our reconciliation conversations in hundreds of groups across the nation and beyond, I’ve watched people awaken to the realities of the racial divide and their personal racial illiteracy. I’ve seen them go from living in hard-hearted denial to leading movements toward reconciliation. I’ve seen them awaken to the work of the Lord in their lives.
Understanding Begins with the Right Posture
If you’ve picked up this book, chances are you’re interested in the work of racial reconciliation. I’m glad you’re here. Before we start, please understand this: the work of racial reconciliation requires a certain posture. If you’re White, if you come from the majority culture, you’ll need to bend low in a posture of humility. You may need to talk less and listen more, opening your heart to the voices of your non-White brothers and sisters. You’ll need to open your mind and study the hard truths of history without trying to explain them away. You’ll need to examine your own life and the lives of your ancestors so you can see whether you’ve participated in, perpetuated, or benefited from systems of racism.
If you’re Black, Latinx, Asian, Native American, or part of any other non-White group, you’ll need to come with your own posture of humility, though it will look different from that of your White brothers and sisters. In humility, you might need to sit with other non-White groups and learn their stories. You might need to confess the ways you’ve perpetuated oppression of other non-White people. People of color may need to confess internalized racism and colorism. You’ll need to correct and instruct when necessary and will need to recognize the effort of those trying to cross the bridge, even if imperfectly. After all, the work of racial reconciliation is anything but perfect.
If we come together in the posture of humility, we can start to bridge the racial divide. A bridge that lifts up marginalized voices. A bridge of voices that is about equity of marginalized voices, not equality. How do I know? Because I’ve witnessed it.
Since the fatal shooting of Michael Brown in 2014, the racial divide in America has only gotten worse. We’ve seen a rise in white nationalism in the media. We’ve heard government officials use language that, to minorities, sounds racially coded. But even though the country is more racially divided than ever, bridge builders are meeting in Be the Bridge groups across America. Week after week, I hear their stories. People of all ethnicities are coming together. They’re learning, growing, and even worshipping together in the spirit of John 17, a spirit of multiethnic unity.
God is inviting all of us to be active participants in racial reconciliation, to show the world that racial unity is possible through Christ. So, in the pages to come, I’m inviting you to journey with me toward racial reconciliation. I hope that as you do, you’ll engage with the prayers that conclude each chapter and use them to form your own prayers. And after each of the three major sections of the book, let the liturgies draw you deeper into God’s heart for reconciliation.
Ultimately, I pray you’ll join a movement of bridge builders who are fighting for oneness and unity, not uniformity, in “such a time as this.”
Questions for Reflection and Discussion
1. Have you studied the history of non-White cultures in America and how those cultures came to be here? If so, what books and articles have you read and what videos and documentaries have you watched about the history of those cultures prior to their forced migration?
2. Describe some of the books you have read, films you have watched, or art you have admired that were produced by individuals of a different ethnicity than yours.
3. Do you approach conversations of racial reconciliation as if you have all the answers? Do you approach those conversations with a willingness to be corrected? What do you think it looks like for participants to approach those conversations in humility?
4. Are you committed to leaning in to this book, to reading each chapter and answering the questions, even when it’s difficult?
A Prayer for Humility
Lord, we ask that the words of this book fall on the soil of our hearts. Come into our brokenness and our lives with your love that heals all. Consume our pride and replace it with humility and vulnerability. Allow us to make space for your correction and redemption. Allow us to bow down with humble hearts, hearts of repentance. Bind us together in true unity and restoration. May we hear your voice within the words of these pages. Give us collective eyes to see our role in repairing what has been broken. Allow these words to be a conduit for personal transformation that would lead to collective reproduction.
—Latasha Morrison
--This text refers to the paperback edition.Product details
- ASIN : B07PKL69F8
- Publisher : WaterBrook (October 15, 2019)
- Publication date : October 15, 2019
- Language : English
- File size : 4404 KB
- Text-to-Speech : Enabled
- Screen Reader : Supported
- Enhanced typesetting : Enabled
- X-Ray : Enabled
- Word Wise : Enabled
- Print length : 255 pages
- Lending : Not Enabled
- Best Sellers Rank: #153,240 in Kindle Store (See Top 100 in Kindle Store)
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About the authors
Jennie Allen is an award- winning and bestselling author of Anything and Restless, as well as the Bible studies Stuck, Chase, and Restless. The founder and visionary for the IF: Gathering, she is a passionate leader following God’s call on her life to catalyze a generation of women to live what they believe. Jennie has a master’s in Biblical studies from Dallas Theological Seminary and lives in Austin, Texas, with her husband, Zac and their four children.
Daniel Hill is the author of "White Lies," "White Awake," and "10:10: Life to the Fullest," and is the Founding and Senior Pastor of River City Community Church, located in the west Humboldt Park neighborhood of Chicago. The vision of River City is centered on the core values of worship, reconciliation, and neighborhood development. Formed in 2003, River City longs to see increased spiritual renewal as well as social and economic justice in the Humboldt Park neighborhood and entire city, demonstrating compassion and alleviating poverty as tangible expressions of the Kingdom of God.
Prior to starting River City, Daniel launched a dot.com in the 90’s before serving 5 years on the staff of Willow Creek Community Church in the suburbs of Chicago. Daniel has his B.S. in Business from Purdue University, his M.A. in Theology from Moody Bible Institute, his certificate in Church-based Community and Economic Development from Harvard Divinity School, and his D.Min. from Northern Baptist Theological Seminary. Daniel is married to Elizabeth, who is a Professor of Psychology, and they are the proud parents of Xander and Gabriella Hill.
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Hopefully this review will help those who have read or want to read the book to do so with great discernment and truth. Or, maybe you don’t want to read this book but know many who have and want to know some its contents and ideas. This is for you. My intention is not to give only my opinion, but to hold up many of the quotes found within the book to the truth of Scripture.
In this review, you will find many quotes, and also why they are problematic with verse references to refute the ideas. Look up the verses. Grapple with them. Understand the ideas that are out there. Remember, Satan even used the Word of God to twist God’s own Words. How did Jesus refute Satan? Jesus used God’s Word to combat error with truth.
1. “When we lack historical understanding, we lose part of our identity. We don’t know where we came from and don’t know what there is to celebrate or lament. Likewise, without knowing our history, it can be difficult to know what needs repairing, what needs reconciling.” (p 2)
Yes! And NO!! The last part of the quote is entirely correct. Knowing history gives us an important glimpse into why things are the way they are now. History gives us perspective. History can open up our eyes. When our eyes are opened, it is easier to see the pain and suffering of those around us, easier to empathize, easier to have a succinct opinion and grasp as to how to move forward.
While it is good to know history, if you are saved then your identity is in Christ, not your past or the past of the group to which you belong. Your identity is not found in your history. Your identity is not found in your culture or your skin tone. As a believer, you are a child of God (Jn 1:12), forgiven (Eph. 1:7), set free (Rom. 6:6), a citizen of heaven (Phil. 3:20), in Christ and a new creation (2 Cor. 5:17). This is your identity. These truths are true, whether you lack historical understanding or not. You cannot lose this identity through life circumstances or lack of knowledge.
Think of the groups that existed during Jesus ministry: Jews, Gentiles, Samaritans, Pharisees, Sadducees, etc. These groups clung onto their group identities, and Jesus called them to a life of faith. He called them to saving faith in Himself. He was the answer to the division that existed among people, among groups. When they would accept Christ, they would no longer be divided, but brothers and sisters. They would be one family (Rom. 12:5, Matt 12:50, Gal. 3:28). That was the truth of their status with one another. Every other difference was superficial. They were now one in Christ, and called to live in unity (Jn. 13:35, Rom. 12:4-5, 1 Cor. 1:10).
2. “Jesus was hung because he opposed the dominant authority.” (p 28)
This is partly true. Religious leaders of the day did not like Jesus. They thought he was a threat, as He was claiming to be the Son of God. However, this statement is void of the bigger picture; namely that Jesus came to die, to give His life as a ransom, to pay the penalty for sin, to seek and save the lost (Mark 10:45, Luke 19:10). God had ordained that Jesus would sacrifice His life to pay the price for the sin of the world. This quote looks only at the surface/the visible and does not recognize the spiritual aspect. Jesus was killed on the cross because of our sin, our depravity and inability to save ourselves (Rom 3:10, 23, 6:23, Eph 2:8-9).
3. “See how Ezra acknowledged and lamented the truth of the sins of Israel? See how that acknowledgement and lamentation connected him with the guilt and shame of that sin? And identifying with that guilt and shame, Ezra cried out to the Lord… Like Ezra, Daniel had been personally innocent of the offenses against God, but he did not try to distance himself from the collective sin of his people. He owned his part in it as a member of the community…. As members of a group, they assumed the responsibility to confess and seek reconciliation on behalf of that group.” (p 68-69)
In this section, Latasha is setting up a case for corporate repentance. Here, she uses Old Testament examples of Ezra and Daniel repenting for the sin of Israel.
Ezra’s case is found in Ezra 9. In context, he had just received word from the princes that the people of Israel, the priests, and the Levites had intermarried with some of the people from the land. This was a problem, because God had specifically forbid this among his chosen people, the Israelites (Lev. 18:3, 24-30). The people of Israel were the chosen people of God, in covenant with God, and living under the law of God, which they had promised to obey (Deut. 7:6, 2 Sam. 7:23-24). It is in this context that Ezra finds himself. Ezra (a Jew/Israelite himself) arrives in Jerusalem and finds that the people (the Israelites) were not keeping their covenant with God. As a Jew, Ezra wanted them to be made right with God again, and as Israelites and a leader of the Israelites, he goes before God and repents for the sin of the nation of Israel.
Daniel is found in the same type of situation. He confessed to God that the Jews had sinned, acted wickedly, rebelled, turned aside from God’s commandments, been unfaithful, and not obeyed (Dan. 9:3-11). Daniel was a Jew. Being a Jew, he confessed as a part of the Jewish nation. He was a member of the nation that was in covenant with God, and had broken their covenant. Why is this important? It is important to recognize the responses of these men in connection with the fact that they were Jews, who as a nation were in a covenant with God. This isn’t just a community, group, or national sin. This was the sin of a nation in covenant with God and set apart to God.
To conflate the sin of Israel (a called out nation of God, in covenant, set apart, God’s people) with modern day America is a stretch. Is America as a nation in covenant with God? Are Americans set apart? Has God called America His chosen people? No.
“We won’t be agents of reconciliation until, like Ezra and Daniel, we take on the guilt and shame of our community and let it propel us toward confession.” (78)
I have already addressed the faulty assumption here that we are to take on community sin as our own. It was a completely different matter with the Israelites. To take the actions of these two Jewish men in covenant with God as Jews and say this is how America is to respond is completely pulling these examples out of context. But, let’s look at this quote. She says we must “take on the guilt and shame of our community and let it propel us toward confession.” Where in Scripture in the New Testament do you ever see a call to believers to take on guilt and shame? And, where in Scripture do we see God telling us to take on guilt and shame that is not ours, but someone else’s? I don’t see any Scripture that points to this. Of course, we are to confess our sin (1 Jn. 1:9, James 5:16). God can use our own guilt and conscience to bring us to a point of repentance, when needed (Acts 24:16). The message of the gospel is one of freedom. We realize that we are sinners and cannot save ourselves. We are guilty. Christ has taken our guilt and shame and nailed it to the cross, so we no longer have to carry it (Col 2:14, Rom 3:24-26, 8:1). We are not called to carry guilt and shame. We are called to freedom (Gal 5:1).
4. “Lord, we confess as a church that we have modified the meaning of the gospel to justify our lack of effort to pursue justice for the oppressed….We confess that we have created a gospel that is manageable so as to avoid entering into the pain, struggle, and discomfort of bearing one another’s burdens- and therefore we have failed to fulfill the law of Christ.” (121)
Latasha seems to be conflating the law and the gospel.
What is the gospel, according to Scripture? In 1 Corinthians 15, we have a clear definition of what the gospel is. “…Christ died for our sins according to the Scriptures, and that He was buried, and that He was raised on the third day according to the Scriptures…” (1 Cor. 15:1-4). If we add to or take away from the meaning of the gospel, we no longer have the gospel. The gospel is not this truth + fulfilling aspects of the law. The gospel is the truth that Christ died, was buried, and rose again. Period.
Our response toward the truth of the gospel is one of two responses. We can either accept it/ trust in the work of Jesus through faith, or we can reject it. Once a person, through faith, believes in the truth of the gospel and is saved, then they have power to obey God and to be witnesses to the world (Acts 1:8, Jn. 14:12). Once saved, we have the power to live in a way that pleases God (Phil 2:13) and are commanded to do the good works that He has prepared for us (Eph 2:10, Titus 2:7, 3:8).
How are the gospel and the law connected? Scripture teaches that through the law comes the knowledge of sin. The law exposes our sin, because we cannot perfectly obey the law (Rom. 3:20, 5:20, 7:7-13). This is why we so desperately need the gospel. However, a believers’ obedience to God is not to be conflated with their acceptance of the gospel. The gospel and the law are not synonymous. These are two distinct things. Believers have not modified the meaning of the gospel if they stand on what the Bible teaches about the truths of the gospel. The gospel and works are connected in that acceptance of the gospel should lead to good works, but the gospel does not equal good works.
Paul criticized the church in Corinth and in Galatia for believing and following people who were teaching them a different gospel (2 Cor. 11:4, Gal. 1:6-9). If someone is teaching that the gospel is somehow the truths of 1 Cor. 15:1-4 plus something else, that is a false gospel. I would strongly suggest that according to Latasha’s own words, she has at best been very sloppy in her language- making the gospel and the law almost appear to be synonymous. At worst, she is the one who has modified the meaning of the gospel, and in so doing, is leading others into an understanding and belief of a false gospel.
Later, when discussing reparations, she refers to the work of reparation, as “That’s the work of the gospel.” (177)
The gospel does not require work (Rom. 3:28, 4:5). If it requires work, it is no longer the gospel according to Scripture (Rom. 8:3, 11:6, , Eph. 2:8-9, Gal. 2:21, 5:4).
Latasha Morrison finally gets to the finish line of her book: reparations. She uses two Biblical examples. Her foundation (based off of a faulty interpretation of the examples of Ezra and Daniel) is that we must make reparations for the past that we may have had absolutely not part in, because this is part of corporate repentance. Here are the examples she uses.
5. “Take Numbers 5:7, for example, where God tells Moses what people must do when they wrong another person. ‘They must confess their sin and make full restitution for what they have done, adding an additional 20 percent and returning it to the person who was wronged.” (p 155)
I find it odd that she uses this verse, because the verse is explicitly talking about an individual who wrongs another individual. It is saying exactly the opposite of what she is trying to make it say. She is using this verse to support her view, which is this: because white Americans and their ancestors have enslaved and mistreated black Americans and their ancestors, white Americans should make reparations to black Americans. That concept is not found in this text whatsoever. I do not believe that when God inspired the author of numbers 5:7 to write these words as part of His God-breathed revelation to us, He had in mind modern day, white Americans. The principle of the text is that if you steal, you pay back what you have stolen.
“But when Zacchaeus came face to face with Jesus, he knew that reconciliation could come only through restitution. So he declared, ‘I will give half my wealth to the poor, Lord, and if I have cheated people on their taxes, I will give them back four times as much!’” (p 156)
Again, he was repaying what he had taken from others. He was making restitution for his own personal sin. To take an example of Zacchaues and plop it right into modern day America is a sloppy use of Scripture.
What do both of these passages have in common? The reparations are a response to a personal sin committed against another individual/individuals.
6. “Jesus didn’t just come to restore individual people; he came to break down systems of oppression, to provide a way for his kingdom to appear on earth as it is in heaven. He came so that we, his followers, could partner with him in restoring integrity and justice to broken systems, broken governments, and ultimately, broken relationships.” (p 180-181)
Jesus came to save sinners- individual people. He came to give His life as a ransom and payment for the penalty of our sin (Mark 10:45, Luke 19:10, Rom. 3:25-26, 2 Cor. 5:21, 1 Tim. 1:15, John 10:10).
Did Jesus come to break down systems of oppression? Latasha does not reference any verses here, but where you find this idea in Scripture is in Isaiah 61:1-3 and also Luke 4:16-29. In Luke 4, Jesus quotes Isaiah 6:1-2a. He says that the Lord has sent him “to liberate the oppressed”. In verse 21 of Luke 4, Jesus goes on to say, “Today, this Scripture has been fulfilled just as you heard it.” So, was Jesus saying that at that moment, he had liberated all of those who were physically oppressed? If that is what Jesus meant, He was lying because that is not what happened! We cannot take the meaning of this verse to be literal if we are to believe Jesus’ own words. If these things were fulfilled literally, then why was Jerusalem destroyed in 70 A.D.? Why did the Holocaust happen? Why are Christians persecuted in other countries and children sold as sex slaves etc.? Jesus’ first coming was not about liberating the oppressed in a physical sense, but a spiritual one. He was saying that salvation is available to those who would believe right here, right now, through Him. Jesus was the One who could set spiritual captives free. He was the One who could save the spiritual poor. He was the One who could save the spiritual oppressed. He was offering Himself to His people as the Messiah- the ONLY One who could save them from their sin problem.
“He came so that we, his followers, could partner with him in restoring integrity and justice to broken systems, broken governments, and ultimately, broken relationships.”
I would challenge those who hold to this view to actually find a passage in the New Testament written to the church where believers are called to “restore” justice and integrity to systems and governments that are broken. Was there a time in history when systems, governments, and relationships were not broken? Brokenness is a result of the fall. Even in the New Testament, believers were not called to dismantle systems of slavery, but to pursue Godliness and the fear the Lord (1 Tim. 6:1-6, Col 3:22-23, 4:1). Note: This is not to be read as an attempt by me to justify slavery!
The book of Philemon in the New Testament is a letter from the apostle Paul to a slave owner. Paul does not argue for his slaves’ freedom, but makes a case instead for reconciliation (Philemon 1:1-25). Believers are called to live in a just manner. Correct doctrine leads to Godliness (1 Tim 6:3). We are to fight the good fight of faith (1 Tim 6:12).
In the future, when Christ returns and sets up His Kingdom on earth, there will be true justice in systems, governments, and relationships, ushered in by Jesus Himself (Isaiah 65:17, Rev. 21:5, Heb. 13:14, Isa. 11:2-5). Our efforts will not ever bring true justice, because we are sinners. Christ will one day restore all that is broken. Until then, we are called to walk with Him, be obedient, love others, walk in the Spirit, share the gospel etc.
I now know how that sounds to someone of color.
If you say you are colorblind (regarding racism), I know what you mean. Just 4 short years ago (almost to the month) I was saying these things and having them written in a folder about my parenting philosophy. I know you mean to say that you love all people the same, regardless of where they are from and what color their skin is.
But here's the thing: people of color do not hear that statement the way you mean it.
Do a little research. See what it SOUNDS LIKE to be on the receiving end. (If you do this research and accept what the authors are saying about the topic, then you are at the "acknowledge step." If what you read makes your heart hurt a little, you're probably about to enter the "lament" step. Go there. Please. And read this book.
This book is not about pointing out how bad white people are. Not at all! Reallly, its goal is to have every Christian come to the table ready to have a discussion on things that are too often swept under the rug.
Color blind is not the goal.
"Color brave, color caring, and color honoring." That even SOUNDS better than color blind.

Reviewed in the United States on October 15, 2019
I now know how that sounds to someone of color.
If you say you are colorblind (regarding racism), I know what you mean. Just 4 short years ago (almost to the month) I was saying these things and having them written in a folder about my parenting philosophy. I know you mean to say that you love all people the same, regardless of where they are from and what color their skin is.
But here's the thing: people of color do not hear that statement the way you mean it.
Do a little research. See what it SOUNDS LIKE to be on the receiving end. (If you do this research and accept what the authors are saying about the topic, then you are at the "acknowledge step." If what you read makes your heart hurt a little, you're probably about to enter the "lament" step. Go there. Please. And read this book.
This book is not about pointing out how bad white people are. Not at all! Reallly, its goal is to have every Christian come to the table ready to have a discussion on things that are too often swept under the rug.
Color blind is not the goal.
"Color brave, color caring, and color honoring." That even SOUNDS better than color blind.

While some of the events of our nation's past were horrific and inexcusable, the trajectory of the United States was moving forward and upward. It is a process, after all. It is clear, that apologies were being made, by Morrison's admissions, and actions taken (ie. affirmative action in education) to make reparations. Unfortunately, in the last decade, the topics of racism and "white supremacy" have been useful tools in politics to make certain groups of voters feel victimized again, and again. It is to the benefit of of certain politicians to hide the progress that IS being made and continue to "stir the pot". The more finger pointing that is done, the less forgiving we become as a nation.
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