Owning a Share in Communal Sin
Why should I repent of sins committed against Native Americans more than 100 years ago? I wasn’t there. I’ve never stolen anyone’s land.
Many of us who grew up in western culture see ourselves as an individual thread rather than as part of a communal fabric. We fail to recognize that we are woven together with other generations into a garment that stretches back through time.
I have a shirt where the elbows have worn through. I consider the whole shirt to be ruined even though there are many individual threads that are just fine. The integrity of the garment is affected by the torn fabric.
And there is a tear in the fabric that connects me to the land upon which my home sits.
In the early 1800s treaties were made with the Ho Chunk people who occupied the lands in what is now Madison, WI. Money was promised by the government to purchase the land, though for many indigenous people, land is the Creator’s – no one can truly “own” it. We may occupy it, or steward it, or hunt upon it; but owning something you did not have a hand in creating is absurd.
Graft and corruption meant that money promised the Ho Chunk often didn’t make it into their community. It ended up in the pockets of officials or went to pay for the “help” which the government offered in the way of infrastructure or agricultural training. Finally, Wisconsin’s first governor, Henry Dodge, ordered the forcible removal of Ho Chunk people to Nebraska in 1840. Now the land could be divided into plots and sold to individuals and businesses. One of those plots has come into my hands. I quite literally own a share in the communal sin of my forbearers.
Then there’s slavery. Why should I be expected to make amends for that? My relatives came here after slavery was abolished. None of them owned slaves. They were mostly blue collar, working-class, foreign-born poor.
Of course, the very reason they came to America was due to the prosperity and opportunity America offered. A national wealth built upon hundreds of years of brutal slavery. America’s version of slavery was crueler than most and continued after other countries had abolished it, giving it a powerful global advantage. When a nation designates a large group of intelligent human beings as not-quite-human, it allows a form of exploitation and oppression which can grow a global empire. An empire that drew my east European relatives.
Unlike the Irish or Italians, Black residents in our country could be marked for exclusion upon sight. No simple changing of the family name to open doors. America worked to systematically exclude Black residents from the political process and from opportunities for economic advancement. A population locked out of opportunity meant that my eastern European relatives had less competition for jobs and could more easily obtain levels of housing and education which Black Americans could not.
My dad was able to take advantage of the GI Bill. He got a college education and took out a loan for a home. Black servicemen, on the other hand, were at the mercy of college admission processes, loan officers and real estate agents, many of whom chose to exclude them even if they were eligible for GI Bill benefits.
So, generational wealth accumulated in my family while Black peers faced more obstacles with fewer resources.
Nehemiah and Communal Sin
Nehemiah was a Jewish exile born in Babylon in the 5th century B.C. who confessed sins committed long before he was born. “I confess the sins we Israelites, including myself and my father’s family, have committed against you.” (Neh. 1:6). He is referencing the idolatry and the unjust treatment of the poor and vulnerable which the prophets of the 6th century B.C. decried. Nehemiah recognized he was part of a national fabric which was damaged by wrongdoing committed by his ancestors.
It astonishes me that some white churchgoers denounce the human trafficking of today but are silent about the benefits being reaped from the human trafficking that built America’s economic hegemony. Is it possible to rise above our hyper-individualism and start to own the wrongs committed by our ancestors? Wrongs that many of us still benefit from today, and that others continue to suffer as a result of.
The stain of slavery and genocide covers our collective garment, and all see it except the wearer.
Nehemiah owned the sins of his forbearers, but then he used his privilege to rebuild the walls of Jerusalem. He made Jerusalem habitable for the Jewish population which had been discarded and left behind by the Babylonian conquerors – mainly those who were poor. Those whom Isaiah foretold God would restore after Israel had been judged for their heard-heartedness and oppression.
“The Spirit of the Sovereign Lord is on me, because the Lord has anointed me to proclaim good news to the poor… They will rebuild the ancient ruins and restore the places long devastated; they will renew the ruined cities that have been devastated for generations. (Is. 61:1, 4)
It’s time for the beneficiaries of slavery and native American displacement and genocide to confess, repent and lament. The maybe we can then pick up a chisel and trowel and begin to rebuild the broken walls.
Well written Scott. Nehemiah certainly led Israel well in those times. I suppose the question becomes at what point can we pick up the chisel and begin repairing? And what does repentance practically look like? I am not asking to critique or criticize your post, but merely to see what this looks like practically? And how do we as evangelicals work together in it when many feel attacked for things that they had nothing to do with? I believe many evangelicals also believe that the sin of slavery was dealt with through the terrible price paid by our nation to end it (I know that much systemic racism persisted after the Civil War, but your post dealt with slavery). I also believe that many white evangelicals are eager to stand with our brothers and sisters of a different race, but hesitate to do so because of disagreements on other issues (for example, I agree with the premise of Black Lives Matter that their lives are important, but I have not fully embraced that movement because of other things they promote such as abortion and the breakdown of a nuclear family). How do we overcome these barriers so that we can move on and build together? How do we do so without planting additional seeds of bitterness?
Hey Carter. Really good questions. If anything I hope my blogs provoke discussion that moves us toward action.
In terms of national efforts toward reconciliation with indigenous populations, here’s an article on other countries that have made such moves. https://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/national/how-other-countries-have-tried-to-reconcile-with-native-peoples/article24826144/
In terms of the same kind of initiatives for our black population, you’d be interested in this chart of state apologies https://www.ncsl.org/Portals/1/documents/magazine/articles/2008/08SLJune08_StateStats.pdf
And here’s a good article from the Atlantic on what has (and mostly hasn’t) happened nationally in terms of reconciliation. https://www.theatlantic.com/international/archive/2014/08/how-to-apologize-for-slavery/375650/
My mostly white church is beginning with lament. How can we create true spaces of lament to recognize what has happened? How might we involve the black community? What does repentance look like? Turning away from harmful practices?
I admit it’s tricky. Any true repentance must cost us something. My wife and I try to do this with our choices of who we support with our giving and trying to support black owned businesses.
I’d love to know how you end up thinking about how to move forward.
P.S. I see no problem participating in Black Lives Matter protests without feeling like I am somehow joining the organization known by that name.