Jonathan's Dilemma
by R.C. Sproul, Jr.

My grandfather was a fine, upstanding man, in a general sort of way. He worked hard, provided for his family, and raised children who would become committed Christians themselves. He loved his wife faithfully. He served in his local church. And he was a racist. He never, as far as I know, wore a white sheet. He didn't own a copy of The Protocols of the Elders of Zion. I don't believe I ever heard him utter the n-word, though I suspect he probably did while away from the prying ears of his grandson. To perhaps make it somewhat clearer, his racism was more cultural than personal. He thought himself clever when he grumbled that a better name for the Pittsburgh Pirates baseball team might be The Nairobi Nine. (If I remember correctly, the Pirates in the late sixties or early seventies became the first major league team to start nine players with African ancestry.)

My grandfather has gone onto his reward. Cracks like "The Nairobi Nine" are no longer acceptable in polite company. Things have changed. Yet, while I deny that such ought to elicit any kind of response from the state, that mild racist cultural heritage has not yet died out. I had a friend who was offered a pastorate by the session of a conservative, Presbyterian church, if he would promise not to "integrate" the church. Yet another Presbyterian patriarch has publicly defended the idea of segregation. I have several friends whose greatest challenge in adopting children of different ethnic backgrounds hasn't been the bureaucratic hassle, the very real financial expense, the adjusting of the home life, or peace among the siblings. Rather the greatest challenge was dealing with more distant relatives who were seriously uncomfortable with the latest addition to their family tree. And those relatives tended to be the older ones. What do you do? How do you honor your elders, without falling into their sin?

Moral indignation, coupled with a smug sense of superiority is never the answer. As sad and sinful as residual racism is, it doesn't undo the fifth commandment. Worse still, such simply invites our own children to laugh at our moral blind spots. Wisdom tells us that when we read about the really stupid things people do in the Bible, our response ought not to be, "How can they be so stupid?" but "How am I acting this stupid?" The same is true with our living fathers. That men better than we can fall into this kind of worldliness should serve not just as a warning to us that we could possibly do and act as foolishly, but as a sure sign that we already do.

Neither, however, should we ever wink at sin. Racism is not a victimless crime for two reasons. First, as we argue in the Leviathan column, it isn't, or at least shouldn't be, a crime. But neither is it victimless. Real people are wrongly judged, looked down upon, despised, excluded, hurt by even the mildest forms of racism. Second, racism isn't only bad for its victims, but is bad for its perpetrators. We are doing our fathers no favors if we simply let their worldliness slide, because they are our fathers. Love means admonishment and rebuke.

Though the issue there wasn't race, Jonathan found himself caught between a near-identical rock and similar hard place. He, no doubt, loved his father Saul. Because Jonathan was a godly man, he must have rejoiced to see the Spirit at work in his father. And because he was a godly man, he must have grieved to see his father eaten alive by jealousy. Worse still, that jealousy bore the fruit of murder. Jonathan, because he was a godly man, didn't determine that Saul's murderous heart removed Jonathan's obligation to honor him. And Jonathan, because he was a godly man, not only refused to participate in Saul's plots, not only respectfully called on his father to repent, but also did right by David, warning him of the danger to come. Our calling is of a like nature.

First, of course, we do not participate in this kind of residual racism. Here, more than either meat offered to idols, or imbibing, is where we cause our brother to stumble, not in offending someone, but in sharing secret sin. We are invited to sin when the racial slur is uttered, and all eyes turn to us to see if we will play along. We must not. It is not necessary for us instead to jump up on our soap box and start thundering like Elijah. But neither do we enter into the sin. Typically, an embarrassed silence on our part is sufficient to embarrass even the boldest of boors.

Second, we speak the truth in respect. Any time we are called to call our elders to repent we are on icy ground. We can stand firm if we reject the sin with tears rather than rage. In part, such is what we are trying to do with this issue. Remind your fathers, if they profess Christ, that these whom they despise are they for whom Christ has died. Remind them that we ought to be practicing for the new heavens and the new earth, by making such a reality in the here and now. Remind them, if necessary, that we too were once strangers to the covenant, that we were once not a people, but are now the people of God. Wash them with the water of the Word, but scrubbing gently.

Third, we never allow the failure of our fathers to love the brethren to diminish our own loyalty to all of God's people. We do not fall into the sin of Peter, who forgot, and followed the crowd. We do not reject a suitor for our daughter because her grandparents wouldn't understand. We do not serve a church that would exclude any who profess the true faith. We do not reject our favorite baseball team because of the color of their skin. (Eleven seasons in a row of being losers might do it, but not the color of their skin.) In short, we will help our fathers see that in Christ there is neither Jew nor Greek, when we do the same.