There have been some very healthy developments in the United States in regards to the matter of race since the horrific murder of George Floyd. People are actually having conversations about race. Individuals who were previously resistant to every discussing race have begun to lean in and listen to the concerns and fears of African Americans. Many whites, in particular, are realizing that it’s not enough to simply “not be racist”; what’s needed is active opposition to racism in all its forms.

Those are good things. But there’s one idea- sometimes subtle, sometimes not so much- that’s growing in popularity, promoting itself as crucial to achieving racial justice in America but actually working against that goal: white guilt.

When I say “white guilt”, what I mean is this: a white person feels guilt or shame simply because they are white. Perhaps it’s because they’ve come to realize that, since they are white, they in general do not face the same obstacles African Americans do. Maybe their guilt comes from their shame over not speaking up against acts or words of racism. Or, perhaps it stems from an individual’s past that was blatantly racist.

The sources of white guilt can be varied. But the general result is best summed up in the words of a letter to the editor of the New York Times from a couple of years ago: “I feel like my literal existence hurts people.”

In other words: If I’m white, that is a bad thing. And if I’m white, just that fact causes problems for other people.

It’s not difficult at all to get to that point in today’s culture. And, with recent events taken into account, perhaps you feel like you should feel that way. Perhaps pundits and talking heads would agree.

But if that’s where you’re at, you’re actually on the fast track to ensuring that true racial justice never happens in America.

You can’t go the right direction when you start the wrong direction

Once upon a time I had a friend that was driving down to Wilmington, NC. As they were heading down I-95, they approached the exit that would take them to I-40 East and towards Wilmington. They took the exit they thought they were supposed to take and made their way joyfully along.

It was only when they started seeing signs for Richmond, VA that they realized their mistake!

If you start off in the wrong direction, it’s impossible to get to the right destination. And in this case, embracing white guilt starts us off in the opposite direction from where we want to go.

Love your neighbor as…yourself

Jesus said something very profound in Mark 12:28-31:

One of the teachers of the law came and heard them debating. Noticing that Jesus had given them a good answer, he asked him, “Of all the commandments, which is the most important?” “The most important one,” answered Jesus, “is this: ‘Hear, O Israel: The Lord our God, the Lord is one. Love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your mind and with all your strength. The second is this: ‘Love your neighbor as yourself.’  There is no commandment greater than these.” (Emphasis mine)

Don’t miss this: Jesus made it clear that in order for us to love our neighbor rightly we have to learn to love ourselves correctly. So what does that mean?

To love yourself correctly means you see yourself through the eyes of Jesus’ grace. It means that we recognize, through Jesus life, death, and resurrection, that our sins are forgiven, our guilt and shame are removed, and we are made brand new as adopted children into God’s families. Realizing this produces a deep humility because it recognizes that we didn’t deserve this. We are sinful- born that way- and our sin, in God’s eyes, is infinitely evil. What we deserve is infinite punishment (hell). Yet what God offers us through Jesus is eternal life. More than that- He offers us, as wicked and sinful rebels, not just a spot at the King’s table, but a place in the King’s family.

That is amazing. And it has profound implications for the way we live, because how I view myself (my identity) determines what I do with myself. 

I’ll go back to my college days. I played college baseball for a couple of years, then transferred schools. Now, I wasn’t ready to give up on my dream of playing baseball professionally, so at the next two schools I went to, I tried out as a walk on.

I didn’t make the team. But that’s not the point. I viewed myself as a good baseball player, one worthy of playing at (at least) the college level. So I acted in accordance with that belief.

I didn’t however, try out for the basketball team. Why? Because I knew I was a marginal high school basketball player at best…and that 5’10” guys who can’t jump or shoot and aren’t crazy fast don’t make great college basketball players.

I tried the one, not the other, all based on my identity. 

So here’s how this comes back around: If my identity is warped, then I’ll act wrong. In light of what Jesus said about loving myself, if I don’t learn to love myself correctly, it will be impossible for me to love my neighbor correctly.

And white guilt makes it impossible for me to love myself correctly, because a sense of guilt never produces self-love. It produces self-loathing.

Don’t believe me? Just think about the times you’ve attempted to change something in your life. Maybe you’re trying to stop doing something. You do good for a while…and then you slip up. Think about how you felt in that moment.

You probably weren’t gracious to yourself. You probably didn’t say “It’s ok, we’ll do better today.”

Instead, you probably thought something like this: “I’m such a loser. I suck at life. I’ll never be able to be better. I’ll never be able to stop doing this. I’m a loser.”

What you felt was guilt. You did something you knew you shouldn’t. And what it produced was not self-love…but self-loathing.

It’s impossible to love your neighbor as yourself if you loathe yourself. If you never learn to love you- to see yourself as Jesus sees you- you’ll never be able to love other people rightly.

And part of the reason for that is because of where our focus goes when we feel guilty and self-loathe.

I just want to feel better

I saw the following take place regularly when I was a student pastor: We would take students to summer camp. The preaching was awesome. The music was great. The teens had a ton of fun.

And every year, at least a handful would realize they were doing things in their lives they shouldn’t be. And by Thursday night, after 4 days of sleep deprivation, unlimited food from the cafeteria, all-day fun in the sun and preaching at morning and night, they would crack. They would weep. They would seem genuinely sorry for whatever it was they were doing that they shouldn’t be doing or for not doing what they should be doing. And they’d commit that night to do different and be better.

That would last for all of about two weeks. And then, by the time school rolled around, they were right back into the same pattern of life.

Now- I’m not knocking summer camp. I’ve seen other students genuinely changed by it. But that dynamic is important to understand for purposes of this conversation.

What those students I described above felt was guilt. They knew they shouldn’t do something- or should be doing something. They got “caught”, so to speak. They felt bad.

And any time we feel bad, the focus immediately goes to this: “How do I make myself feel better?”

What I know- and I suspect what you know as well- is that is not a recipe for real, lasting change. What it is a perfect formula is a temporary change that lasts only as long as the feelings of guilt last- or until they feel better about themselves.

Honestly- I believe this is why we’ve seen little to no real progress when it comes to racial reconciliation in America. Because the scenarios we see far too often- where an African American man is killed by a white person- produce the same dynamic I saw in summer camp.

Something bad happens. A lot of white people feel really bad about it. And because they embrace “white guilt”, the focus isn’t really on going to African Americans and asking “What can we do to serve you and minister to your needs?”

The focus is simply on making ourselves (white people) feel better.

This is the kind of mindset that leads to rampant hashtags on social media. It leads to, perhaps, going to a protest. It may even lead to expressed regret over our own silence and the sins of our ancestors.

And then- once that’s off our chest, once the moment passes, once it’s no longer trending on Instagram or Twitter and the media has moved on to the next crisis…we’re no longer to be found. We’ve done our penance. We’ve had our moment. And we feel better.

But you’ll never see us with an African American in our home. You’ll never see us hanging out with people of different ethnic groups. And sure, we may preach about how bad racism is and how awful our ancestors were…all from the comfort of our homes and churches and circles of friends, surrounded by people who look like us, think like us, and act like us.

Guilt creates a moment when what is needed is a movement. But guilt can’t create a movement because the focus of guilt is making myself feel better in the moment. And once the moment passes…we move on. 

But we shouldn’t feel great about the past or the present

Please don’t misunderstand me. I am not saying we should just gloss over the past. I’m not saying we should feel hunky-dory and like everything is sunshine and rainbows and ponies and skittles in the present.

Reality is we should feel remorse for the sins of our ancestors. We should feel sorrow over systemic injustice and real prejudice in the present. And we should absolutely do something to move the ball forward for racial reconciliation and justice.

But what we need isn’t guilt. What we need is to feel grieved. 

Being grieved is the game changer

“Guilt” and “grieved” are not remotely the same dynamic. They may look similar. They may even have elements that feel similar. But they are worlds apart and have huge implications for who actually gets involved in pursuing racial reconciliation.

Consider the definition of “guilt” from Webster (emphasis mine):

1: the fact of having committed a breach of conduct especially violating law and involving a penalty…broadly : guilty conduct
2athe state of one who has committed an offense especially consciously
bfeelings of deserving blame especially for imagined offenses or from a sense of inadequacy
3a feeling of deserving blame for offenses

Something you’ll notice is that the feeling that goes with guilt is very self-focused. It’s based on what have done, and my feelings of guilt stem from what believe have done.

And therein lies one of the primary reasons white guilt never moves us towards genuine racial reconciliation: in order for one to feel guilty, one has to be convinced they’ve done something wrong. Whether they have or not is not the issue; but they must believe they’ve done something wrong.

It’s practically impossible to convince someone to feel guilty and do something about it when they are convinced they’ve done nothing wrong. This is why many white Christians don’t appear to feel a need to get involved in the “race topic.” They don’t consider themselves racist. They aren’t members of the KKK. They didn’t set up or participate in slavery. The argument goes like this: “Why should I feel guilt over something I haven’t done?”

And badgering and berating them over their “white privilege” does nothing to move the ball forward. You cannot convince someone to feel guilty when they feel they’ve done nothing wrong. 

Guilt comes up short.

Being grieved, on the other hand, is precisely what we need. Check out the definition of “grieved” according to Webster (emphasis mine):

1to cause to suffer DISTRESS it grieves me to see him this way
2to feel or show grief over grieving the death of her son
Here’s the significant thing about being grieved as opposed to feeling guilt:  Being guilt is focused on how I feel based what I’ve done as an individual. But being grieved doesn’t have to relate to anything I’ve done. I can be grieved regardless if I’ve done something or not. The usage of the primary definition of grieved here is HUGE: “It grieves me to see him this way” (emphasis mine).
I don’t have to have done anything at all in order to feel grieved for someone else. I can feel grieved over something someone else has done or over something that has happened to someone else. 
To feel guilt means I feel bad over something I did or think I did. And if I feel bad, I want to feel better.
But to feel grieved is entirely different. I don’t feel bad. I feel broken. I don’t just feel sorry. I feel sorrow. I don’t want to feel better. I want to make things better for the other person. The focus moves from making myself feel good to being a servant to other people and meeting their needs. 
Did I mention this is completely independent of anything I’ve done?
Even if “I’m not a racist”, I can- and should- feel grieved over the acts of racism committed by my ancestors. I can and should feel grieved over racism I see in day-t0-day life. I can and should feel grieved over systemic injustice.
And the result of that grieving is not making myself feel better by merely using a hashtag on social media or showing up one time to a protest. Being grieved means I take real, actual action to make things right.
Grieved people get in the game

Consider the story of Nehemiah, particularly in Nehemiah 1-2. Nehemiah was cup-bearer to the king- which, while dangerous, was a privileged position. It was likely very lucrative, and- because of the nature of the job- required a person to be highly trust-worthy and well thought of. The cup-bearer was nothing less than a member of the king’s inner circle and a close confidant of the King (to read more about cup-bearers, click HERE).

But one day, one of Nehemiah’s brothers dropped in. Nehemiah’s brother told Nehemiah about their fellow Jews in Jerusalem: , “Those who survived the exile and are back in the province are in great trouble and disgrace. The wall of Jerusalem is broken down, and its gates have been burned with fire.” (Nehemiah 1:3). In other words, Nehemiah’s people were in trouble.

Now, if Nehemiah had felt guilty about his royal position, he may have done something. Maybe he would have posted on Instagram (#RebuildTheWall) or sent some money or even supplies for the rebuilding of a wall.

But Nehemiah didn’t merely feel guilt. He felt grieved. And watch the posture he goes to as a function of being grieved:

When I heard these things, I sat down and wept. For some days I mourned and fasted and prayed before the God of heaven. Then I said:Lord, the God of heaven, the great and awesome God, who keeps his covenant of love with those who love him and keep his commandments, let your ear be attentive and your eyes open to hear the prayer your servant is praying before you day and night for your servants, the people of Israel. I confess the sins we Israelites, including myself and my father’s family, have committed against you. We have acted very wickedly toward you. We have not obeyed the commands, decrees and laws you gave your servant Moses.”– Nehemiah 1:4-7, emphasis mine

Don’t miss this: there’s nothing to indicate that Nehemiah had participated in the sins his ancestors had. He would have never felt guilty because he had no reason to feel guilty. And yet, because he is grieved over the pain the exiles are in, he takes responsibility for the problems that put them in that situation. 

Grieved people take responsibility for problems that are “not theirs”. And that changes that game. 

On the other side of this, Nehemiah actually goes to the king and requests to be allowed to go to Jerusalem and lead the charge to rebuild the wall. He didn’t sit on the sidelines. He didn’t just send money. He didn’t just speak up.

He got in the game. And in doing so, he led a movement that resulted in the rebuilding of the wall of Jerusalem and spiritual revival in Israel.

Guilt creates moments. But being grieved creates movements. Feeling guilt creates a checklist for me to perform to make myself feel better. Being grieved causes me to commit to the process of actual change.

But there’s one final thing we have to say about the difference between guilt and grief before we move on…

Only one comes from God

Paul writes this in 2 Corinthians 7:8-11:

Even if I caused you sorrow by my letter, I do not regret it. Though I did regret it—I see that my letter hurt you, but only for a little while— yet now I am happy, not because you were made sorry, but because your sorrow led you to repentance. For you became sorrowful as God intended and so were not harmed in any way by us. Godly sorrow brings repentance that leads to salvation and leaves no regret, but worldly sorrow brings death. See what this godly sorrow has produced in you: what earnestness, what eagerness to clear yourselves, what indignation, what alarm, what longing, what concern, what readiness to see justice done. At every point you have proved yourselves to be innocent in this matter.

There is a stark difference between “worldly sorrow” and “godly sorrow.”

Worldly sorrow is essentially a feeling of guilt: I’ve done something bad. I’m a bad person. And that leads to death…because the goal is not real change. The goal of worldly sorrow is “make me feel better”- which, by the way, can also mean I brush my sins- or the sins of my ancestors- under the rug. It makes me feel bad. I don’t want to talk about it. Perhaps that’s why it seems many are reluctant to even have the conversation about race.

Not to mention that worldly sorrow- or guilt- is manufactured by people.

Godly sorrow (being grieved), on the other hand, leads to repentance. It leads to genuine change. Yes, it recognizes I’ve done something bad. But it can also mean that I recognize something bad has happened…and I want to see justice done. It doesn’t lead to trying to feel better. It leads to making things better.

And godly sorrow- unlike worldly sorrow- isn’t manufactured by people. It’s a product of the Holy Spirit working in people’s hearts. 

And at the end of the day, THAT is what is needed.

A whole bunch of white people can feel guilty for a little bit…but that will always result in actions that make us (white people) feel better. It will probably have little if anything to do with actually addressing the real problems that exist. Worst of all, white guilt may give the appearance that we care for minorities…when reality is we just want to feel better. Our hearts never actually change.

On the other hand, when the Holy Spirit produces a sense of being grieved in our hearts, we don’t merely feel bad. We feel broken over the state of our world. We feel broken for the pain our African American brothers and sisters go through daily. We mourn systemic injustice and weep over racism.

And we don’t simply use hashtags, and we don’t simply show up to a protest. We get involved. We pursue relationships. We have conversations. We begin to take steps in our own individual lives to pursue justice, and even if we didn’t contribute to the construction of the system injustices that exist, we commit ourselves to seeing them corrected one day and one relationship at a time through our very lives.

For those who are grieved, racial injustices are never “someone else’s problem.” It’s personal. Because a grieved person realizes that what affects one affects all.

And for one final thought:  a grieved person doesn’t wallow in guilt over their “privilege”. A grieved person leverages whatever “privilege” they have to bring about justice and reconciliation for those who need it. Just like Nehemiah did…

And just like Jesus did. Jesus didn’t feel guilty about His “privilege” as the Son of God. Instead, He humbled himself and took the form of a servant, becoming obedient even to the point of death on a cross, resurrected from the dead, and is now exalted to the right hand of God so that those of us who are helpless in our sin can, through Him, become children of God. He didn’t do this because He “had to.” He did this because He wanted to- out of love for us and sorrow over our sin and the fact that sin kept us from Him.

That means when we ask the Holy Spirit to make us grieved over systemic injustice to the point we do something about it, we aren’t just participating in racial reconciliation. We are painting a picture of the Gospel.