Lutherans for Racial Justice I February 22, 2023

Rev. Dr. Richard C. Dickinson penned these words during a contentious period in the life of the LCMS. [1] The seventies were a decade of turmoil and upheaval in our church body. And yet, in the midst of the struggle, the LCMS paused to honor the centenary anniversary of Black Lutheran ministry and mission. In addition to preaching a centennial sermon at the 1977 LCMS convention he, in concert with the Black Centennial Committee, composed a book titled, Roses and Thorns: The Centennial Edition of Black Lutheran Mission and Ministry in The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod. In that book Dickinson recounts the breadth and depth, beauty and ugliness, pride and despair that belongs to our church body. He understood that the good and bad moments recorded in history could not easily be separated. Nor, it seems, did he want to separate them. 

He was forthright:

Dickinson’s quest was not solely his own. J. A. O. Preus, once president of the LCMS, understood that Black brothers and sisters of the LCMS in his own day did not have such a place to belong. Nearly a decade before the publication of Roses and Thorns Preus wrote:

“The white majority in our Lutheran Churches needs to listen very carefully to what is being said. Not so much because we fear a pull-out (which probably some white members would welcome), but because we need to give to the black man in our churches a position of dignity and equality, which he feels (and probably rightly) that he has not heretofore enjoyed.” [3]

Dickinson’s voice, his story, helps us understand not just the past situation Preus referred to but also what has and continues to shape our present reality and what can be done about it.

Richard C. Dickinson is not someone whose story matters only in Black history month. When he died in 2010 at the age of 85, the synod president at the time said that he was “one of the foremost African American leaders in the history of The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod… a visionary man, with a heart for the Gospel of Christ.” [4] He was “a minister, teacher, musician, poet, hymn writer, author, historian,’ husband and father, a ‘soldier of many battles, a military veteran and a warrior of the cross.’” [5] His dear friend and brother-in-law described him as “the kindest man you will ever find.” [6] The synod that once paused to remember all Black Lutheran mission and ministry in its history also paused to remember him. And yet, it seems that after his quest to belong his story became a lost one—at least lost to some—but it is not lost forever.

The paragraphs that follow are the concluding pages of his most famous work. [7] It should be noted that no formatting, grammar, spelling, capitalization, or punctuation has been modified from the original source. The book, which is sadly out of print, is not simply an account of the history as bald facts, as if history is ever told in an unbiased way. It is the account of a man who sees in his church, with all of its good and bad, a place to belong. Belonging for Dickinson, as you will see in his own words, does not mean ignoring the difficulties—it means taking ownership of them. Belonging does not mean simply acknowledging that injustices occurred; it means calling them out, it means working to reduce the chance of those same injustices being perpetuated.

That responsibility falls to anyone who calls the church his or her own. Through his quest to belong, Dickinson has become, for many, the man who shows us what it means to love an imperfect church body that has, at times, failed to love you.

NOTE: Watch Rev. Dr. Nunes read the below excerpt. The full book can be purchased via Concordia Publishing House.

This riddle begs for solution in any society which is polarized along racial lines. One may play the game of ignoring the apparent existence of the racial polarization, but it will dog his footsteps wherever he goes and will rise up, periodically, to haunt him.

We, as Christians, should dedicate ourselves to the resolve that, with the help of Almighty God, we will work increasingly for the eradication of all barriers which inhibit, or frustrate, the freedom of all Christians to fellowship and corporate union. Judicious planning forbids us to ignore that these barriers do exist. The challenge to the church is not for her, the church, to rationalize and validate evil, nor yet to condemn the evil and thereafter to act as though the pronouncement of condemnation cause the evil to cease to exist.

A challenge to the church today is to see racism as a great evil inhibiting, and indeed frustrating, the free fellowship and cooperation of God’s people. The white denomination desirous of working with non-whites must understand that white racism, both individual and institutionalized, will greatly diminish its mission appeal and is, therefore, a power to be recognized and fought.

A challenge to the church is to learn to know the evil in all its characteristics and above all to know and identify it for what it is, namely, “evil.” To have a healthy respect for its power and ability to seduce.

The challenge to the church is to find ways to minister effectively, regardless of this handicap, while we also struggle to eradicate the problem completely.

When it comes to racism in the church, individual or institutionalized, it is clear that it remains. A thorough and valid study would possibly show it to be stronger than in antebellum days. The cliche, 11:00 on Sunday morning is the most segregated hour of the week, is more valid today than it was during the days of slavery.

The church must say of racism what Paul said of the sin his members: “Not as though I had already attained either were already perfect; but I follow after, if that I may apprehend that for which am apprehended of Christ Jesus. Brethren, I count not myself to have apprehended; but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things that are before, I press toward the mark for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus” (Philippians 3:12-14).

Official racial integration is one thing and actual acceptance is another. About the turn of the century, W. E. B. DuBois, a Black Harvard-trained sociologist, wrote the prediction that the problem of the 20th century would be the problem of the color line. After three-quarters of this century have passed, the color line is still, perhaps, the chief problem defying solution in our church, in our culture, in our relations on every level, both national and international.

As a Black person seeking to acquire the feeling of truly belonging in a church identified as a white denomination, a church body whose total membership is less than one percent Black, it is truly difficult to get the feeling that one truly belongs. It is doubtful that it is possible in this racially troubled world to convey the feeling of acceptance of uninhibited fellowship, of psychological ownership to racial minorities who are such a small percentage of the whole.

As long as skin color and other racial identifying features are the criteria for social dividing lines, minorities will always find obstacles in their quest to belong. They must either resign themselves to fight protracted and endless battles against the barriers that separate or retreat into their own social groupings to create structures, or institutions, within this group which will convey this sense of identity, the feeling of acceptance, the grade of “belonging.”

Now that I am older and much more experienced and knowledgeable about Lutheranism, I am no longer the proud and cocky young boy alluded to at the beginning of this chapter. I no longer believe that a Lutheran is a Lutheran and that is all that there is to it. I know that there is denominationalism in Lutheranism. There is racism, personal and institutional, in Lutheranism. There is factionalism of every sort in Lutheranism. As I write these words, there is severe infighting threatening the very survival of The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod as presently constituted.

Sober judgment would conclude that minorities, especially Blacks, because of the contrast in skin color and racial features, will never be able to get the feeling of full acceptance in The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod until racism has greatly diminished, or died altogether, as an influencing factor. I have no illusions that this will happen in my lifetime, but I struggle against it because it is evil. To be too optimistic can lead one to make short-range plans that can be fatal in the long run.

Many of our great champions in the struggle for justice and racial brotherhood fell prey to the temptation to be too optimistic. According to their game plan, there would be no need for predominantly Black institutions and structures once the wall of legal segregation comes tumbling down. The era of complete and accepted integration would be ushered in. After all, The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod is a church body which espouses the thesis that when Scripture has spoken, the case is decided. It is clear that there is no support for racism in the Handbook of The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod, the Book of Concord, or the Bible. But the old evil foe refuses to die. Instead, with every passing age he finds something with which he can survive and in time wax formidable again.

Wendell Phillips, the great abolitionist, in 1861 wrote an essay praising the exploits and accomplishments of Toussaint L’Ouverture, the Black liberator of Santo Domingo. After declaring him to be greater than Napoleon, Cromwell, or Washington, he concludes with these words: “You think me to be a fanatic tonight, for you read history, not with your eyes, but with your prejudices, but 50 years hence when the truth gets a hearing, the muse of history will put Phocian for the Greek and Brutus for the Roman, Hampden for England, Fayette for France, choose Washington as the bright, consummate flower of our earlier civilization, and John Brown as the ripe fruit of our noonday. Then dipping her pen in the sunlight, write in clear blue above them all, the name of the soldier, the statesman, the martyr, Toussaint L’Ouverture.”

Twice 50 years and more have passed and gone, and people still read history, not with their eyes, but with their prejudices. Not only does truth fail to get a hearing but even God’s Word of truth is explained away, ignored, or in some way made to be ineffective.

Today society in the United States seems to be moving in the direction of more pronounced conservativism. The conservative phenomenon in politics and economics is usually the signal to the social and religious groupings in society to draw up into their racial and ethnic shells. Today ethnic churches are thriving, and the predictions are that their future holds great promise. Today racially oriented churches have a much greater chance for growth and stability than does the racially integrated congregation. Today the challenge to the Missouri Synod, and for any white denomination, is greater than ever before to create a climate within their fellowship where Blacks and other minorities can truly experience the feeling that they, in fact, “belong.” It is so hard for Blacks and other minorities to be able to acquire that feeling in The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod today.

The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod is, in fact, an ethnic church body. It is hard for a white person, who is not German, to feel fully at home in the denominational structures of our church. I believe that The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod will overcome the ethnic barriers, just as it overcame the language barriers in the recent past. I believe that The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod will also overcome, eventually, the barriers of race, caste, and of class in the social setting of America and of the world. I believe that the day will come, soon, when all the races and nationalities in The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod will be able to attain unto psychological ownership of that segment of the church’s ministry which is directed toward their groupings. I believe that the future of The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod will be much greater than her past. I would like to be a part of that future, and so I will continue my quest to belong. 

I am not the proud and cocky Lutheran that I once was when I, as an idealist, saw the Lutheran church as a church with integrity, blending well its teachings and practice. As I know the history herein referred to, I bow my head in shame and remember the story of Jesus weeping over Jerusalem. I am forced to breathe a prayer to God that He would daily bring us to know that The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod is His church, operating under the orders and the mandate of His holy Word, charged by Christ Himself to proclaim His blessed message of salvation in all its clarity and power to all men of every age, race, and nationality.

I know all of the revolting things which I have recorded in this book about the performance of the Lutheran Church in Negro missions, I know all of that and more, yes, much, much more. Yet I choose to continue my quest to belong. Although I deplore much about what the church has done and is doing today in Negro ministries, I am as proud of the message today as I ever was. Older Lutherans boast about the Word of God in its truth and purity, and I feel that any person who can read today can also have the Word of God in its truth and purity. I will boast of God’s plan of salvation in all its clarity, unadulterated by synergism and other work-righteousness schemes. “Therefore, we conclude that a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the Law.” “If the Son shall make you free, you shall be free indeed.”

I know that my church is not perfect, it never was, and it never will be as long as sinful man, you and I, make up her membership and guide her destiny. Wherever the church is, there is also Satan to stir up strife, to foment rebellion, to sow seeds of doubt and discontent, to inhibit or prevent anyone and everyone in rejoicing in the love and grace of God and to frustrate every effort of mortal man to attain unto the measure of the stature of the fullness of Christ.

Those who search for a perfect church on earth are like those who would search for gold at the end of the rainbow. It can never be found I believe that Christ Jesus, my Savior, is still in my church, begging and pleading to be seen and heard. I believe that He is there in Word and sacrament, although many would completely hide or ignore Him. I believe that through Him, the church, my church, will be continuously cleansed and purged to be His tabernacle, His habitation.

In the present strife within The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod, I do not agree with everything that the present administration espouses as a necessary defense of the doctrine of the church. I also do not agree that everything done by the opposition is a charitable, laudable, and necessary reaction to oppression. I feel that, in my quest to belong, I have come to the point of psychological ownership that I can, in a qualified way, call The Lutheran Church—Missouri Synod “My Church.” It is “My Church” whether right or wrong. Using the classic explanation of that term, it is my church, when wrong to set it right, and when right, to keep it right. My fervent daily prayer to God is that He would daily establish the Synod in His Word and guide it in His way.

To say that my church is imperfect would be the understatement of all time. I know that the piercing thorns of racism will frustrate the genuine warmth of her fellowship for ages yet to come. I believe that the calcifying rigors of ethnic traditionalism will severely hamper her ability to adjust and adapt to other peoples and other cultures of the world. I know that she will make many mistakes, some of which will set the cause of ministry back rather than advance it forward. This is as it always has been with God’s church from Old Testament times until today. I have faith in God. I have faith that one day, under the power of His Holy Spirit, directed by the mandates of His Holy Word, MY CHURCH shall rise up out of the gloom and despondency of despair and self-imposed defeat to match its precious creeds with shining deeds in a symphony of love, joy, praise, and service that will truly light the world and lead onward, through grace, to glory.

And so I proudly sing:

My Church! My Church! My dear old Church!

My fathers’ and my own!

On prophets and apostles built, 

And Christ the Cornerstone!

All else beside, by storm or tide,

May yet be overthrown;

My Father’s and my own!

My Church! My Church! I love my Church,

For she exalts my Lord!

She speaks, she breathes, she teaches not,

But from His written Word,

And if her voice bids me rejoice,

From all my sins released;

‘Tis through the atoning sacrifice,

And Jesus is the Priest.

Then here, my Church! My dear old Church!

Thy child would add a vow,

To that whose token once was signed

Upon his infant brow:

Assault who may, kiss and betray,

Dishonor and disown,

My Church shall yet be dear to me,

My father’s and my own!