Spelling out ‘racial justice’? # 223. 10/03/2026.

Out of Many, One People.

Welcome, to a carry over from the previous blog’s concern about seeking to get a handle on what is intended by ‘racial justice’. I hope I have not been unduly unfair to the two preachers whose sermons I critique. As ever, comments and criticisms very welcome.

Spelling out ‘racial justice’?

My previous blog questioned whether the £730,000 grant to London diocese for racial justice work was the best way to go about our calling to share the love of God with people of every ethnicity in the diocese. In this blog I want to question the understanding of racial justice in the diocese and the degree to which it maps onto the reality of life in what has been called ‘the world’s most cosmopolitan city’. To do that I want to review two articles in the most recent ‘Racial Justice’ bulletin from the diocese. These are a sermon for racial justice Sunday by Revd Dr Sam Wells, vicar of St Martin-in-the-Fields on ‘What Does Racial Justice Look Like’, and a shorter piece: ‘The Image of God Reflected: Redefining the Neighbour in a Fragmented World’ by the lead Bishop on racial justice in the diocese, Bishop Anderson Jeremiah of Edmonton.

Both authors are well qualified. Dr Wells was Dean of Chapel at Duke University, North Carolina before coming to St Martins’ in central London, and is Visiting Professor of Christian Ethics at Kings College, London. He has written widely on the ethical and social expressions of Christian discipleship. Bishop Anderson grew up in Tamil Nadu, India, did a Ph D at Edinburgh and was a lecturer in World Christianity at the University of Lancaster, where he was also a DEI adviser to the University. He was also a member of the Church of England’s committee that produced the influential ‘From Lament to Action’ report. Both authors, then, have a clear faith-based and ethical commitment to racial justice and have had substantial personal involvement.

Correspondingly both articles contain important understandings of how Christians should respond justly to racial diversity. Both are aware of the prejudices that migrants face. Wells lists strong examples of ‘the reality of racial harm’. Bishop Anderson calls us to hear the cries of those in pain. Both bring our faith to bear on our present situation: ‘ready to let Jesus redefine who our neighbour really is’, and ‘the practice of love that refuses to recognise borders and difference’ (Bishop Anderson); Sam Wells points to the unifying trajectories of catholicity, Pentecost, baptism and church. He concludes with the powerful story of how the Bishop of Kirkstall, Arun Arora, drew together the bitterly opposing sides over an asylum seekers hostel.

Both addresses give the sense of thoughtful Christian leaders addressing basically sympathetic congregations of decent, very largely educated and middle-class Christians. One senses a thought world of people to whom life has been good and whose ‘anywhere’, rather individualistic mentality makes them relatively comfortable in a wide variety of situations. There are, of course, corresponding limitations. Neither gives weight to the fact that those who do not share the positive ambience of preacher and congregations include not only ethnic minorities, immigrants and asylum seekers, but a substantial section of the white English population. For Bishop Anderson the Priest and Levite ‘passed by the victim to protect their status and safety’ – unforgivable for those whose status in society is assured, but overlooking those whose status comes from the sense of solidarity in being with people who share your background, history, interests and locality. Strengths inevitably diminished by the intrusion of those with different culture and limited English language. Similarly, Wells criticises ‘conservative Christianity . . . anxiety over migration and fear of social change’. But how far is this nostalgic ‘Christianity’ parasitic upon a genuine sense of loss that weighs heavily on those for whom living in a very specific social context has been significant? He easily demolishes the concept of ‘racial purity’, but the ‘constructed sense of belonging that’s perpetually under threat and relies on excluding others’ can often be a real need for people that empty phrases like racial purity provide a more easily verbalised cover. (See a fuller discussion of the process in Eric Kaufmann’s ‘Whiteshift’.)

Wells’ much longer sermon provides much more detail about the realities of racism than does the Bishop of Edmonton. However it is ‘univariate social analysis’ - that is, racism is assumed to be the only factor at work in society. In some of his examples this may be correct: institutional racism leading to low minority employment in the fire service, or the seven-fold greater frequency of Black African women being detained under the Mental Health Act being caused by the ‘allocentric’ impact of racism on mental well-being (see blog # 18 ‘Is Covid killing People of Colour”).

But in other senses the invitation to see racism as the cause of the disparity can mislead. If it is the cause of Caribbean pupils being excluded from school three times more frequently than white pupils, then why are not Black African pupils excluded at the same rate. Likewise with the rate of prosecution and sentencing. Re-scrambling these disparities on the basis of social class or, especially, not growing up in a two-parent family would yield an illuminating and, I believe, more pertinent explanation.

An intriguing example is Wells’ statement that 40% of Premier League footballers are minority ethnic, but only 12 of the 312 managers have been. Whether you loathe football or love it, football is provides a very illuminating case study since its dual characteristics of intense competitiveness and mammoth wealth mean that clubs suffer if they allow themselves to make selections based on race, either through racial prejudice (as was certainly the case up to the 1980s), or by a concern to promote racial equity. Intense competitiveness means that a very high level of capability alone matters. The consequence is the marked divergence of ethnic outcomes that Sam Wells points out. Not as he implies because of racial injustice but simply because playing and managing are quite different occupations, with the latter requiring competence in abstract game analysis or in emotional subtlety relating to players, owners and media. Elusive but important qualities, often developed by higher education. I think it is no coincidence that the most recent English managers of the national team (Hodgson, Southgate) or the top Premier League teams (only Eddie Howe really!) have been from middle class backgrounds. People who have been far better footballers (Terry, Gerrard, Rooney) have not succeeded as managers. So, the disparity between the ethnicity of football players and managers in England, that Wells invites us to feel guilty about as an indication of our national racism, is rather the result of the cultural differences. Thus far black footballers have largely been from working class backgrounds. I predict that in twenty years’ time the emerging tranche of players from more educated West African backgrounds will be providing leading managers. (For further confirmation, it is worth noting that the manager of one of Europe’s elite clubs, Bayern Munich, is from a Congolese Belgian ethnic minority, but also from a middle class background.)

There are two errors involved here. There is the ‘football’ error of seeing being a manager as simply an upgrade, a promotion from being a player, rather than being a different sort of job requiring different competencies. (A little like the vicar/bishop contrast). But also there is the ‘racial’ error of assuming that diverse ethnic groups have (or, at least, ought to have) fairly identical competencies. Either by simple observation, or by reading the massive output of Thomas Sowell (see my recent blog on his biography ‘Maverick’) it is clear this is never the case anywhere in the world in any activity. In this way Wells over-simplifies and confuses our perception of ‘racial justice’.

Both articles, then, share the same underlying weakness. They give little sense of what it means to be immersed in ethnically diverse communities, with all the complexities, contradictions, choices, compromises, challenges and joys that come with relating simultaneously with people of very different cultures, educational levels, social class and places of origin. Wells’ sermon is rich in information, illustration and application, including a superb story. (It is also very well organised – a model sermon!) But in both sermons the flow of race-based understanding is not complexified by the cross currents of culture, behavioural patterns, or class. Navigating an ethnically diverse society is much more demanding than a simple ‘racial justice’ focus allows. Bishop Anderson writes: ‘As we observe Racial Justice Sunday, we are challenged to look at those our Church and society often push to the margins, the Global Majority Heritage communities in this country, migrants and refugees, and the displaced’. But at the heart of today’s tensions is a much larger section of the population who also feel marginalised. Making race centre stage obscures a more complex landscape of injustices.

It is common for reports on racial justice to express disappointment at the lack of progress. The response seems to be to create more organisations (the report on ‘Racial Awareness in the Church of England – see blog # 215 - expresses bemusement at how many there now are) and to spend more money. Such responses suggest an organisation that is unsure about what it is doing. The reason is that it does not well understand the situation it is working with. Both these articles, for all their good points, illuminate the error. ‘Race’ and ‘racial justice’ are seen in isolation, the only factor at work in producing outcomes. It is this decontextualising of race that produces a distorted understanding and that leads on to inappropriate and ineffective responses. Isolating ‘race’ from such factors as cultural preferences and patterns, social class, marriage and fathering or geographical location will always mean that attempts to promote ‘racial justice’ will always be frustrated.

Taken together these London Diocese ‘Racial Justice’ articles illustrate the weakness of the Church of England’s seemingly default setting of seeing ‘racial justice’ as the summation of its response to a racially diverse society.

1. The concept is overblown and offers to do more work than it can actually perform. Racism is a reality in our society and the church, and Wells is good at itemising some outworkings. But for such examples, often identifiable as microaggressions, the word ‘injustice’ entails a much more substantial and formal, and more easily correctable, account than is the case in these instances. The parable of the Good Samaritan, the focus of Bishop Anderson’s sermon, is also about a personal action – here, of compassion, but not really the rectification of injustice. Note too that the victim of the ‘injustice’ is a member of the indigenous community.

2. ‘Racial Justice’ focusses attention on racial minorities, in a very complex situation where some minorities, notably Chinese and Indian, are prospering educationally, in careers, and often in an overall sense of well-being more than does the indigenous majority. It is a not an easily demarcated subset of injustice in our society.

3. To see ‘race’ as the only variable in play by listing ‘how awful’ disparities as though inevitably they are the consequence of racism leads to a distorted understanding of unequal outcomes in our society. To identify ‘racial injustices’ is a very much more difficult task than is often assumed.

Appendix.

An AI generated response to a request for a 500 word article on ‘A Christian approach to Racial Justice’.

I asked ChatGPT to write me an article on ‘A Christian Approach to Racial Justice’. It was worthy but bland, theologically grounded but limited, and above all with generalised exhortations which give little wisdom in responding to real life situations. It is entirely correct. There is nothing to disagree with, but also nothing that engages the heart or the will. Nothing that captures the at times fascinating, at times distressing complexity of living in multi-ethnic London. It was a little too similar to articles that appear periodically in the Church Times. Both the London ‘Racial Justice’ articles above, especially Sam Wells’, are more information rich than this. But treating ‘racial justice’ as an isolated and insufficiently contextualised issue will always lead to an incomplete and therefore distorted understanding.

A Christian approach to racial justice begins with the conviction that every human being is created in the image of God. This foundational belief gives dignity, value, and inherent worth to all people, regardless of race or ethnicity. Because each person reflects the Creator, Christians are called to treat others not merely with tolerance or passive acceptance but with active love, honor, and solidarity. From this starting point, racial justice becomes not an optional social project but a core expression of Christian discipleship.

At the heart of the Christian faith is the command of Jesus to love one’s neighbor. This love is not abstract. It involves recognizing the lived experiences of others, acknowledging suffering where it exists, and working toward healing and reconciliation. When racial injustice harms members of the human family, Christian love compels believers to stand alongside the afflicted. This includes listening to the stories of those who face discrimination, learning from their perspectives, and allowing compassion to shape action. In this way, love becomes inseparable from justice.

Scripture also emphasizes God’s concern for the oppressed. The prophets repeatedly call God’s people to defend the vulnerable and confront systems that cause harm. This prophetic tradition challenges Christians to look beyond individual attitudes and consider the broader patterns that contribute to racial inequality. Addressing personal prejudice matters, but so does recognizing how institutions, policies, and cultural norms can perpetuate unfair treatment. A Christian approach, therefore, includes both personal transformation and engagement with societal structures.

Reconciliation is another essential theme. The New Testament teaches that Christ breaks down dividing walls of hostility and forms one unified community. This vision does not erase differences; instead, it celebrates diversity as part of God’s design. Christians are invited to pursue relationships across racial lines, cultivating mutual respect and shared purpose. True reconciliation involves honesty about past wrongs, repentance where needed, and a commitment to building a future rooted in justice. It is a spiritual, relational, and practical process.

Humility plays a significant role in this journey. Christians are called to examine their own hearts, acknowledging biases that may linger unrecognized. This self-examination is not meant to produce shame but to open the way for growth. Humility also means being willing to learn from others, especially those whose experiences differ from one’s own. By approaching conversations with openness rather than defensiveness, believers reflect Christ’s posture of gentleness and truth.

A Christian approach to racial justice ultimately expresses hope. It trusts that God is at work healing divisions and restoring what has been broken. This hope motivates perseverance even when change feels slow. It encourages forgiveness without forgetting the need for justice. Most importantly, it roots the pursuit of equality in the belief that God intends a world where all people flourish together.

In all of this, Christians are called not merely to hold beliefs but to act. Through advocacy, community building, service, and daily choices, believers can help bring about the justice and reconciliation that reflect God’s kingdom.

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Add On.

‘The State of Intercultural Mission in the Church of England’ is the annual conference of the Anglican Network of Intercultural Churches (ANIC) on Saturday, 21^st March from 9.30-16.00 at St John’s, Wolverhampton. Details from the ANIC web-site.

Reflecting on Scripture.

‘Anyone of the House of Israel or of the aliens who reside among them who offers a burnt offering or sacrifice, and does not bring it to the entrance of the tent of meeting to sacrifice it to the Lord, shall be cut off from the people’ Leviticus 17, verse 8,9 (see also verses 10, 13 & 15).

These verses about the sacrificing of animals may seem very remote from our own experience and concerns, but they were focal events for the people of Israel, thus the repeated concern that the aliens amongst them must also celebrate. In the last blog we looked at one of the many Old Testament verses that spoke of the need for warm and empathic welcome for the stranger, but these verses express the corollary – the need for aliens to live as part of a cohesive national community. As the history of Israel continues, we see people of alien heritage now playing a major role in the life of Israel. (See David G Firth’s excellent ‘Including the Stranger’, blog # 66). The late Jonathan Sachs, chief rabbi, made the comparison between a hotel and a home. Multi-ethnic ‘hotel’ societies where people live simply on their own terms will be fragmented and unfulfilling. What the requirements are for everyone to share in this ‘home’ together, and how we develop them is a major challenge in our increasingly varied societies. In that situation churches can become great examples and beacons of hope.