Speaking from my own experience, I know that I use to strongly and adamantly believe that race and gender should not impact one’s interpretation.  Rather when I was young and still grounded in the theological tradition I was raised in, I understood very well the dangers of allowing people to read into the texts from their own context, experience, and social status.  The thought process went something like this.  The moment you allow Jesus to be interpreted through the personal lens of race and gender, you allow who he is to be up for grabs.  You lose track of the historical, biblical, and furthermore real Jesus, and trade him in for thousands of Jesus’ that suit our own interpretations and agendas.  No, instead the answer was easy; we needed to not read the Bible subjectively but objectively.  All we had to do was read the text based off of what it said, not allowing our own experiences and culture to jump. Then Jesus would stay intact, being protected from the misuse and abuse that would come if there was a “to each its own” approach to Jesus.

While I can relate to some of the fears that I once held, I no longer believe nor affirm that race and gender should not play into our interpretation.  In fact, I now do believe that race and gender does and at times must be allowed to interface with the text.  The dialogue between one’s race and gender I believe is both extremely helpful at times (although not always) as well as inevitable.

I will explain the latter first.  I believe that one’s race and gender is inevitable purely because of a biblical truth that has clearly manifested itself in our reality.  This is the reality that we as human beings are finite.  While this point may seem obvious for us as Christians to admit, because we teach it in some form when we talk about the legendary “fall of humanity” that took place in the Garden of Eden, it at times is foreign in regards to our practical application of it for many of our circles.  However, while we are great at teaching a propositional truth (our finite and fallen humanity), we do not always spend equal time pondering the implications of such realities.  I believe that we are comprehensively finite.  We do good, but we do not do infinite good like God does.  We love, but we do not have infinite agape love.  We even know, but our knowledge is never going to equate the infinite knowledge that God holds.  Our finite minds and bodies are not able to operate in infinite ways.  What does it mean then to say that our understanding and knowledge is finite?  It is to affirm that we are mere humans, and so our perspective and scope are limited by our place, context, experience, race, gender, and socioeconomic status.  It also means that even when we have grasped “a truth” or reality, we understand it finitely, and not as God does.  This does not mean that everything we believe is wrong, but it does mean that it is all limited.

If this is the case, then we can no longer hold to the old understanding that we are able to read the bible “objectively”.  Again, this does not mean that we do not have the capacity to read the bible at all, but rather that when we do read it and attain the truth of God, we do so in a finite and limited fashion, otherwise we would be gods ourselves.  The importance of us reading the Bible in humility then becomes extraordinarily important.  Furthermore, if my experience, culture, race, and gender limit my reading and understanding of who Jesus is, then I also will value communal readings that incorporate diverse people that will help pick up and catch what I miss.

It seems that since Constantine, in as much as I understand Western Church History, there has been an inclination and propensity for the powerful and dominant culture of society to control and dispense biblical truth. Furthermore, with the over emphasis on the reformation’s doctrine, we have in many church circles “universalized” a brand of theology and called it “classical theology”.  In this finite theology (as is all theology), we have put forth the one way to understand who Jesus is, and what the implications of his life and death were.  Others around the world and within the U.S. have had other understandings of who Jesus was.  And so it was branded accordingly as Black theology, Latin theology, African theology, Feminist theology, etc.  However, when white men continued to uphold the theology done by their ancestors, or when they added upon this historic work, it was clearly understood as universal theology for everyone.  Based on this we can see the fallacy of the assumption made.  When white men explain who Jesus is, they are neutral, unbiased and objective, but when anyone else does it, they break outside the box of a good universal understanding and will be branded as such.

The reality is, that anyone who is a part of the most dominant group of any society is just as much if not more subjective in their understanding of who Jesus is and his implications.  Now, some might wonder why I made that “unfair” jump to label those in the dominant group as “just as much if not more subjective” when I should have said equally subjective.  Well I stand by my statement for these reasons. One, any minority can tell you that for survival sake, they must not only know their own thoughts and perspectives on politics, faith, music, pop culture, etc but must also be fully aware of what those in the majority are thinking as well. For if they were to not know, it very well could cost them a job, an opportunity, or a fair shot at thriving in a world controlled by those who see you as an outsider.  People in the majority have the luxury of not having to know what subdominant groups are thinking.  Their lively hood does not hang on the balance if they don’t know minority’s heroes, favorite songs, political perspectives, etc.  This is a privilege of being in the majority. However, along with this advantage also comes the disadvantage of not having as wide of a perspective as the underrepresented do.  Therefore, if the dominant groups of society do not intentionally take the time to learn Jesus from the minority groups, they will have a more finite and subjective understanding of who Jesus is, as well as Christ’s implications for our world as well.

Lastly, as I understand Jesus and his story (from my own culture and experience as a black male), I see him being most relevant for the oppressed, the marginalized, the poor, the outcasts, and the lost. Jesus was an oppressed person for oppressed peoples.  In my experience, the more someone fit one of the descriptions for whom I claim Jesus was most relevant to, the more they saw and understood Jesus as expressed in the gospels.  However, the more someone did not fit that criteria, the more they seemed to need help to see Jesus in this light.  As I mentioned in the beginning I still hold to the fear that without objectivity, there is the possibility for a “to each their own” approach with Jesus.  And I do strongly affirm that not every reading is as good as the next, and some are just flat out wrong.  Therefore I believe that we indeed should allow our race and gender to inform our understanding of Jesus, however it should always lean in favor of “the least of these” rather than the dominant or powerful.  Our very readings should slant towards the marginalized, but along with that if our interpretations differ, I am going to go out on a limb (without any strong backing and only conviction) and say that we should usually prefer interpretations of Jesus by oppressed communities over and above privileged communities, so long as they are staying within the confines of the historic church boundaries and that of scripture.

For me, the implications here are obvious when thinking about how to incorporate such ideas into ministry.  For starters, it is essential for us to find a place and opportunity for people from diverse backgrounds to gather while studying who Jesus is and what he means for them individually as well as corporately.  This in itself seems simple but is not easily attained.  It can at times be easy to get people together when the journey is limited, and nothing is really lost or gained because no one is vulnerable.  However, to work and labor in having a community that despite all odds is going to stick it through, even when it hurts, is what is truly needed.  In my first paragraph of this essay, I suggested in one of my questions that people have something to lose based on how we address these questions.  I guess I envision a group of people that will not merely come around and join hands singing “Kumbaya My Lord”, but that real reconciliation and justice would be pursued at the communal and social level rather than merely individual.  I believe that when we all have a say on who Jesus is, informed by our experience (including both race and gender, among other categories as well), then it will transform our churches, families, communities, and ultimately our world.

The pursuit of reconciliation and justice together ultimately means equality.  For those that have “too much” there will be loss, and for those that have “too little” there will be gain.  The goal is equality. I believe that we won’t be able to live nor do ministry the same ever again.  However lofty and unrealistic it sounds even to me, these are the real and practical implications.  Our collective pursuit of following after our Risen Lord must be done in humility, in love, in truth, in patience, in grace, in peace, and as well, in Christ.

by Drew Hart