By Jimi Calhoun.
Throughout American history, the church has often ignored the type of racism that exists in the everyday lives of most Black people, and some of those patterns persist today, simply wearing new forms. Yes, progress has been made, no denying that, but as Jesus’ body on earth, we have far from finished the work of racial reconciliation. Let me share one example of what I am talking about.
Recently, my wife Julaine and I were standing in front of a sushi restaurant waiting for our friends to arrive for a scheduled dinner. When we got there, we didn’t see them, so we decided to wait outside rather than be seated. It wasn’t long before a white gentleman with blond hair, talking on a cell phone nearby, asked if I needed help. He had no connection to us or the restaurant, and so the only plausible reason for his offer was that my presence made him uncomfortable. What would you conclude?
Here is the problem. If I told this story to two different groups of white Christians, they would receive it in two completely different ways, and that is indicative of the challenges I face in my writing and ministry. I have worked in politically liberal-leaning churches, and the vast majority of white attenders there would believe it happened, sympathize with me, and move on.
On the other hand, I am an evangelical minister fully committed to my theological tribe. Unfortunately, a good number of white people attending evangelical churches would drum up an alternative explanation, be offended that I raised the incident at all, or express serious doubt that race was the reason, followed by blaming me for being hypersensitive.
Character, Context, and Justice
Martin Luther King Jr.’s most famous speech, “I Have a Dream,” called for an end to racial injustice. Today, King is frequently the go-to shield some people use when challenged about the racism that people like me are attempting to counter. There is a line from his 1963 speech in Washington, D.C., in which he dreamed of a time when Black people would be judged by the content of their character rather than the color of their skin. The irony is, I was a child when that speech was given, and the line I remember most was a much harder-hitting one: “We will not be satisfied until justice rolls down like waters and righteousness like a mighty stream.”
I want to suggest that King’s understanding of righteousness, of right living, is very similar to the concept of tzedakah found in Judaism. Tzedakah is a religious obligation that demands, in part, that a person does what is right and just, which Judaism understands to be a normal part of living a spiritual life. That means it is not a voluntary act of kindness, as is often the case in the Christian tradition, but rather an obligation, a responsibility.
MLK’s Dream, Our Reality
The realities of Black and white race relations in 2026 differ little from those of 1963, at least where it matters most: in the everyday lives of people, as unsettling as that may be. Some sociologists and progressive Christians would argue that even though the explicit, legally sanctioned segregation of the past is gone, the underlying structures of inequality never left; they simply learned to adapt. As evidence, they would point to the economic gap between white and Black households, the unequal access to housing capital that shapes our cities, and something very close to my heart: criminal justice data revealing persistent disparities in sentencing and policing.
Then there is the evangelical perspective, where this kind of conversation can meet with real pushback. Having lived inside that world myself, I understand the instinct. The theology here centers on individual sin and personal redemption, so racism becomes a matter of the heart, a personal moral failing, rather than something embedded in our laws or institutions. Structural analyses are often viewed with suspicion, and there is typically a strong emphasis on what the Civil Rights Movement already accomplished, so whatever gaps remain must be explained by individual choices, such as family structure, often citing absentee fathers, or cultural differences, not by anything systemic.
When “Content of Character” Loses Its Context
Invoking King’s “content of character” line functions almost like a wink phrase, a way of signaling something without spelling it out directly. Say that quote, and it is heard as: poor race relations are a matter of individual character rather than systemic design. Anyone pointing to structural causes is then cast as the one keeping race alive rather than moving past it.
Unfortunately, this framing allows people to borrow King’s moral authority while completely ignoring the part of his message that called for structural and systemic change on a major scale. I would ask you to set aside the popular notion that the “content of character” remark was King establishing a prerequisite for Black acceptance. On the contrary, King was expressing a vision of a society in which race would no longer be the basis for any judgment at all. Moreover, King’s primary audience understood that he was speaking to a nation that had denied Black Americans equal treatment regardless of their character, a denial that continues to this day.
Circling back: the gentleman in my restaurant experience would not have approached another white stranger to offer unsolicited help. That would simply not have occurred had he not been uncomfortable with a Black man standing near the door he planned to use once his call ended. This is where we are, and I believe we should own it.
Thankfully, the Bible provides a solution I believe every type of Christian can agree on and participate in: “Finally, all of you, have unity of spirit, sympathy, love for one another, a tender heart, and a humble mind” (1 Peter 3:8). If I were asked which of these directives would be the best starting point, my answer would be a humble mind. It is difficult to empathize with those you feel superior to, or whose lived reality you do not understand. Remember, empathy requires us to imagine walking in another’s shoes, and to honestly admit the times we have never had to.
You may contact Jimi Calhoun at Jimi@Bridgingaustin.org.