One of my perpetual frustrations about the current--very worthy--movement among whites to own our ingrained notions of racial supremacy is how rarely we frame them as connected to bigger inherent patterns of human brokenness. "Sin" is an out-of-date word these days, downright scorned, tossed aside with the religious institutions that taught it. But I've found myself wondering if the only way we can, if not overcome, then at least heal our racism is by seeing it in the context of the human propensity for sin. I'm hungry for conversations willing to broach this topic.
Enter CALL IT GRACE, where Serene Jones delves headfirst into her family's ugly racist history, bringing to bear for context the full force of her theological training. Hers is a Calvinist background, which I know little about. Contrary to my prejudices, her Calvinistic sense of sin is relatively free of the judgment, guilt, and shame that permeates much of Protestantism.
"Calvin's understanding of original sin also kept me from reducing white supremacy to my own personal or familial problem, as if it were something that could be fixed through individual enlightenment and a single person's virtuous actions. He reminds us that endemic sin is much bigger than just individual intentions. In fact, it thrives even more strongly in social collectives than it does in single people. It lives in the policies people enact, the attitudes we enforce, the beliefs we propagate." --Serene Jones 59
Jones also relates her family's losses around the Oklahoma City bombing of the federal building, her own divorce, her mother's deep betrayal of her father, and her ethical struggles as president of Union Theological Seminary in this bigger context of sin and grace, so we see her theology writ large, across a lifespan. An author in her position might be inclined to avoid much of the hard material Jones tackles head-on. For her fearlessness, honesty, and theological acumen, I hold this memoir in high regard. Anyone curious to anchor their own experiences in their theological bedrock should use this as a model.
As a committed contemplative, however, I found Jones' theological frameworks unsatisfying in the end. The dynamic personal and collective engagement in daily relationship with the divine is largely missing from this story. The one place it's alive is in the writing--in Jones' deliberate seeking within experience for grace--and that, it turns out, was good enough for me. "I, we, this nation, our world, humanity cannot afford the luxury of naming sin--of reveling in the mire of our collective brokenness--without also naming grace." (61)