Conversations about race can be tough. Isaac Adams wants to help. Here are 20 quotes that stood out from his pastorally wise new book, Talking About Race: Gospel Hope for Hard Conversations (Zondervan, 2022).
The Christian has a higher bar for his or her speech even than honesty, and that bar is edification (Rom. 15:2). Not every honest thing needs to be said. . . . Friends, just because we’re honest, doesn’t mean we’re edifying; just because we’re hurt, doesn’t mean we’re right. (40–41)
Exaggeration often shuts down conversation. A point over-argued is a bad point. (41)
Could it be the reason many Christians believe racism to be dead is because we have little to no interaction with the communities on which it has taken its toll? (66)
Satan has tried to convince Christians that one should care either about abortion or racial justice. But what if Christians should care about both? If our concern for abortion does not lead us to care more about racial justice issues, I fear we are not seeing reality in all its horror. If our concern for racial justice does not lead us to care more about abortion, I fear we are not seeing reality in all its horror. (66)
The race conversation often feels like talking to each other at the Tower of Babel. We may be trying to build together, but we’re frustrated and speaking past one another. (69)
To act as if your church is a-cultural is false advertising. Ethnic minorities in any church will be confronted with the fact that being in the ethnic minority means that being at the church will be harder for them than for those in the majority. And those in the ethnic majority must keep this difference in difficulty in mind. How much compassion could be built in churches if we simply remembered that those in the ethnic minority can easily have harder struggles than those in the majority? (86)
We [can] spend more energy condemning organizations and philosophies that seek to confront racism than we do condemning racism itself. Beloved, if we don’t like what someone or some group is saying about racism, let’s put forward a better way. Yet [we] often seem more troubled by the accusation of racism than the presence of racism—and it is this defensive impulse that led Martin Luther King Jr. to say that American churches are too often the taillight and not the headlight. That is, we’re too often found reacting to evils like racism rather than proactively leading against them. And other voices have stepped in to fill the void. I’m not saying that there aren’t valid criticisms to be made of an organization like BLM. . . . [But] I think the more challenging question for us evangelicals to ask is not what is or isn’t wrong with Black Lives Matter, but what are we doing to combat racism? (87)
If we’re driven by what the world says success regarding race looks like rather than what the Word says faithfulness looks like, we’ll be crushed, because the world’s demands can never be met; that beast is never satisfied. (101)
If we want a multiethnic church, we must live multiethnic lives. That is, we’ll need to regularly spend time with folks of a different ethnicity. If we’re unwilling to do this, why would we expect our people to do it? Pastor, if you want a multiethnic church on Sunday, you and your members are going to have to lead multiethnic lives Monday through Saturday. (102)
Pastors, if we talk about racism more than we talk about Jesus, what are we teaching our people to care about most? But if we keep things of first importance first, we will likely gain a better hearing when we speak on secondary matters. Folks may very well be keener to hear about what we think divides us if our ministries are unflinchingly clear, cheerful, and centered on who unites us. (103–4)
If we talk about race because it’s trendy, we won’t last when the trials come. We’ll be driven and tossed by the wind. But if we talk about race because we believe it matters for the glory of God, we will press on. (116)
Think of the parable of the good Samaritan, in which the religious folks walk past the broken man. Now, imagine if the religious intended to stop and help the man, but first they argued with each other about why the man needed help. The priest says, “Well, I think his suffering is his fault,” and the Levite responds, “Well, I think it was the system that beat him down,” and back and forth they go. And all the while the broken man says, “Hey guys, I’m still over here, bleeding.” Though we may be having fruitful debate about a matter or three with someone, we should realize that while we’re debating, our neighbor still might very well be on the side of the road, bleeding. In other words, our neighbors are not mere conversation points. They’re people to love. You might think a local impoverished community looks the way it does for one reason, and a fellow church member might think it looks that way for a different reason. But if you both could agree that it needs help, could you find a common solution and work to implement it. (117)
Let’s not act like racism is the sin that can’t ever be committed, and let’s not act like it’s a sin that can’t ever be forgiven. (123)
Arguing is easier than coming up with solutions to complex problems. Implementing solutions, on the other hand, takes thought, wisdom, creativity, and endurance. It’s much easier to burn a house down than build one. It’s much easier to criticize than create. And given the complexities of the present racial problems, many of us, if we’re honest, prefer the easy route. (132)
Who wants to enter a conversation in which there is a lot of criticism and little grace? . . . When it comes to these conversations, we have two options—we can outlaw them, or we can lower the temperature in them. (141)
Some of us [pastors] have wrongly divorced matters of race from discipleship, and we’ve taught our people to do the same. . . . Could it be that we’ve unwittingly taught our people that Christ’s lordship doesn’t extend to this area of their lives and understanding? Could it be that we’ve wrongly refused to model for our people how to have these conversations, and they have floundered for it? (142)
Diverse friends enrich thinking, and we’re simply going to [need] more speeds than “heretic” and “faithful” if we’re going to speak with each other. Someone disagreeing with our perspective does not necessarily make them a Marxist or a racist. Nor does someone disagreeing with our perspective necessarily mean they are disagreeing with God. (143)
No one’s sin toward us can ever justify our sin toward them. What’s more, these days, when everyone is outraged by everything, kindness is radical. (150)
There is a lot of talk these days about being prophetic in our conversations about race. I’m all for that, but I fear that people have reduced the prophetic task merely to confrontation. But the prophets didn’t just condemn; they also comforted. They comforted God’s people specifically by giving hope—the hope of restoration and redemption. Ezra 5:2 says the prophets were with the people of God, supporting them in their work. And as much as we can, we should support one another. (155)
Let us not be those who are known digitally but not locally. (168)