Several years ago, my first cousin discovered a manuscript that her mom (my aunt) had written. It was a transcript of our grandmother telling her story and preserving our family history. Together, we published it on Amazon as The Life and Times of Roseanna McKinney-Thompson: Granddaughter of a Slave. That book became a pivotal moment for me because my grandmother recounted how her grandfather had been enslaved. He would tell her stories of how painful slavery was. He said that sometimes he would hide behind the barn just to cry and pray that God would deliver him. Reading that firsthand account was powerful. I tell these stories to my own children because they are part of our family’s history.
Those stories stand in stark contrast to the book Doug Wilson wrote years ago, where he argued that many of the stories about the brutality of slavery were exaggerated or untrue, claiming that most slaveholders were kind and took good care of the people they enslaved. He dismissed accounts of whippings, rape, and countless other forms of brutality, presenting a narrative that God used slavery to save Africans and that White Americans lovingly cared for their slaves. He even interpreted the singing on plantations as evidence that enslaved people were content.
My family keeps a copy of that book on our bookshelf—not because we agree with it, but because it reminds us that there are people who value us so little that they will rewrite our story. They will take our voices and our lived experiences and replace them with a narrative that satisfies their own conscience. The truth, however, is that nothing can erase how horrific slavery was. Nothing can erase the horrors of Jim Crow, lynchings, discrimination, and oppression at the hands of White Americans. That story has been chiseled into the history of this nation forever. To lie about it is a sin because those lies continue to keep America from healing.
The black-and-white photographs of children standing in front of the charred body of a Black man who had been lynched by a bloodthirsty White mob are unforgettable. These were often the same people who attended church, read their Bibles, and sang the hymns of Zion. Smiling faces gathered for what looked like a community celebration, while picnicking around unimaginable cruelty and taking pieces of mutilated bodies home as souvenirs. That is part of American history. The Trail of Tears is part of American history. America was founded through the shedding of human blood. Upon the bodies of enslaved Africans and Indigenous peoples, a new nation was built that promised freedom, but only for those who committed these atrocities. That story can never be hidden, but that’s not the whole story!! The story continues! It tells of our persistent fight to free us from that sinful beginning so that we can truly be what God wants America to be.
There are some who believe that when I recount the stories of my ancestors, I—and others like me—are somehow sinning. A gospel has been created in which those of us whose ancestors’ blood and bodies form part of the foundation of this country are not allowed to tell our stories. We are not allowed to remember what happened to our ancestors because doing so is considered unthankfulness, ingratitude, or discontentment. Instead, we are only “allowed” to honor the Founding Fathers and those who drafted the documents that made this nation possible. Yet those men did not physically build this country. From the White House to the bricks that formed the waterfront town of Old Town Alexandria, America was largely built through enslaved labor.
To tell American history in a way that only glorifies the men dressed in fine clothes signing documents is to tell only part of the story. It is to lie. And Scripture says, “Thou shalt not lie.” The real sin is dismissing the stories of those who drove these men to meetings, helped them dress, fed them, nursed them, cared for them, built their homes, and generated wealth through their labor. To erase those stories is the sin.
Remembering is not a sin because God repeatedly calls His people to remember. When the children of Israel were delivered after four hundred years of captivity, God continually instructed them not to forget. Throughout their journey to the Promised Land, He reminded them to remember both their suffering and His deliverance. Remember what the Word says to us:
Deuteronomy 6:12- “Then take care lest you forget the LORD, who brought you out of the land of Egypt, out of the house of slavery.”
Exodus 13:3-“Then Moses said to the people, ‘Remember this day in which you came out from Egypt, out of the house of slavery, for by a strong hand the LORD brought you out from this place.'”
The problem is not remembering. The problem is what remembering produces in us. This is where I sometimes struggle with those who speak about racism. We must be careful that our remembrance leads us toward hope, gratitude, praise for the One who has delivered us, and wisdom for moving forward. If remembering leads us to hatred, then we have wandered into sin. Scripture is clear about how we are to handle our pain:
Romans 12:19-“Do not take revenge, my dear friends, but leave room for God’s wrath, for it is written: ‘It is mine to avenge; I will repay.'”
Matthew 5:44-“But I tell you, love your enemies and pray for those who persecute you.”
1 John 2:9 says-“Anyone who claims to be in the light but hates a brother or sister is still in the darkness.”
1 John 4:20-“Whoever claims to love God yet hates a brother or sister is a liar. For whoever does not love their brother and sister, whom they have seen, cannot love God, whom they have not seen.”
Because we are all part of the human race, we are brothers and sisters in our shared humanity. If we share the same faith in Jesus, then we are also brothers and sisters in Christ. That means many of us are bound together by a twofold cord: our humanity and our faith in Jesus. That should create an unbreakable bond. Sadly, hundreds of years later, our relationship is still deeply broken.
I have experienced the most racism within the Christian community. Much of it stems from a theology that has taught my community that our race has somehow been “cured”—that anything reminding us of our history or identity is sinful and unacceptable. Whether it is our gospel music with “too much rhythm,” our dancing, where our bodies naturally move with each note, the way we cry out in worship when the Spirit overwhelms us, or the language we speak, a rich blend of our African linguistic heritage, English, and the creativity of a people who forged a culture out of unimaginable suffering, American Christianity has often treated these expressions as sinful, worldly, inferior, or somehow unacceptable to God. That same theology has often taught that even our story is not worth retelling. Somehow, American Christianity has come to believe that recalling the pain of slavery or Jim Crow is not simply anti-American, but anti-Christian. It is labeled “woke.” It is called divisive.
In the pursuit of unity, we are told that we should only embrace the narrative of the oppressor. We should only celebrate those heroes. To dare to integrate the stories of the oppressed and marginalized into our understanding of history is often portrayed as unbiblical. Sadly, even some Black Christians have embraced this way of thinking. They prefer to focus on “agency” over slavery or agency over the fight for Civil Rights. Under the illusion of trying to keep us unified and peaceful they want to tell stories of triumph without looking at the roots of how America began to truly understand the journey to America truly living out its promises. But there would be no agency without the blood of the enslaved. There would be no freedom without the charred bodies hanging from trees.
My Black brothers and sisters who want to tell only stories of victory and progress often worry that remembering the suffering will lead to unforgiveness or a feeling of isolation from the story of America, but our story IS America, along with every single other person who has journeyed here (whether by force or by choice). I understand that concern. But Scripture gives us something richer than choosing between celebration and lament. It teaches us how to do b oth. So how do we remember in a way that honors God? Do we lie?Do we create new narratives that make it easier to love one another or to feel better about ourselves?
When I study the biblical passages about remembering, I see that God always gives His people a purpose for remembrance. We remember so that we will glorify Him for His deliverance. We remember our trials because remembering builds endurance for future trials. We remember because we know that He, and He alone brought us through. Remembering every part of our past also gives us wisdom.
Malcolm X concluded his autobiography by warning against labeling all White people as racist or as the source of every Black struggle. That wisdom matters. At the same time, wisdom also requires that we recognize racism when it is present. Remembering helps us identify what is unsafe. It helps us recognize racism when it appears. Looking to the lives of Martin Luther King Jr., Frederick Douglass, and so many others also teaches us not only how to recognize injustice, but how to respond to it in way that is effective for bringing change.
Most Black people consistently experience racism, and we have to stop believing the lie that it no longer exists. Many White people genuinely do not believe racism still exists or they willingly choose to deny that it does. Either way, they often dismiss our experiences as “playing the victim” or being too sensitive or always trying to make things about race. Others quote verses such as Philippians 3:13:
“…forgetting what is behind and straining toward what is ahead…”
But what does “victimhood” really mean? Why do we tell our stories of racism, both past and present? Is it simply to dwell on our pain? Or is it to share our stories like we do the stories of those like George Washington and the Founding Fathers, to ensure that our history is remembered? What better way to celebrate our country than to remember each people’s fight to be blessed by the freedom it promises?
There is often outrage whenever Black people remember their history. Yet many of the very people who object to our remembering regularly celebrate the struggles of the Pilgrims and the sacrifices of the Founding Fathers in building this nation. It is almost as though they believe that the only history God permits us to remember is theirs. That the only story of America is how a group people started it, but it is the story of so many people and that quilt of human stories is what makes America so beautiful. This is the story of truth God wants us to remember, not the one that only elevates and centers one narrative. Nothing in Scripture supports that. Nowhere in the Bible does God declare that the only history worth remembering is that of one people. From Genesis to Revelation, God intentionally weaves together the stories of diverse people, nations, tribes, and languages into one story of the human beings he created with his own two hands. He carefully records genealogies and He tells us where people came from. He names nations and he commands his people to preserve stories. He commands that we REMEMBER.
At Christ’s birth, God surrounded Himself with diversity. Shepherds were invited to worship Him, and wise men traveled from the East when His star appeared. At His crucifixion, a man from North Africa, Simon of Cyrene, carried His cross. On the Day of Pentecost, the Holy Spirit empowered the disciples to proclaim the gospel to people from every nation gathered in Jerusalem. Soon afterward, Philip was sent to baptize the Ethiopian official. Throughout the New Testament we encounter believers such as Simeon called Niger, Rufus, and many others whose stories remind us that the Kingdom of God has always been beautifully diverse. So where, exactly, does Christianity teach us to honor only the stories of those who held power? Where does Scripture command us to remember only one people’s history? It doesn’t.
“For God so loved the world.” That single verse destroys every attempt to narrow God’s story to one culture, one nation, or one people. Black people must remember. We must remember with everything we have because remembrance gives us wisdom, hope, and strength. It prepares us to endure the heartbreak of another young Black man’s life being taken in a nation with a long history of racial violence. The stories of Emmett Till, Nolan Wells, and so many others awaken memories of the times we ourselves have felt unsafe as the only Black person in a room, a school, a neighborhood, at a traffic stop, or a church. Remembering heightens our vigilance, because racism STILL exists. It shapes where we allow our children to go. It influences who we trust with them.
Even as America celebrates 250 years, the Ku Klux Klan still marches openly. We still witness scenes of a lone Black woman surrounded by White supremacists on a subway train as fear overshadows her face. We still hear stories of mysterious deaths in Black communities that many believe were acts of racial violence, but with NO justice. Remembering helps us stay alert. It reminds us not to place ourselves, or our children in situations that history has taught us can become dangerous. It reminds us to have “the conversation” when our children begin driving, praying they survive a traffic stop by an officer who may see only the color of their skin instead of seeing someone’s beloved son or daughter.
But remembering also reminds us of something else. It reminds us that there have always been White people who wanted the truth, those who stood with us, and who fought for justice. Remembering keeps us rooted in truth rather than bitterness, nationalism, supremacy, or hatred. Racism has always been a battle for the human soul. Remembering keeps us close to the light because the battle is not over.
Why does this continue after 250 years? Because there are many who would rather resist remembrance, repentance, and a total heart change. We would rather remember the lies we have created for ourselves to either ease our conscious or inner trauma. We would rather do that because to face the realities of America’s history is almost too painful to bear. Yet, the truth still stands. In all of its glory, America also began as a depraved, self-centered, and prideful effort to dominate people of color in the name of spreading the gospel…a gospel that was no gospel at all.
Because if they had embraced the true gospel, America would have had a different beginning or NO beginning at all. America would not have started if Jesus was the center and ruler of their hearts and minds, because America was born out of inequality and according to the Bible, we are all equals. This truth is the reason enslavers did not want Black people to learn to read. They didn’t want them to know the story of liberation in Exodus. They didn’t want them to know how much Jesus loves all of us equally. They didn’t want them to discover for themselves that every human being is made in the image of God. So instead of remembering, as the Bible repeatedly commands us to do throughout life’s ups and downs, we choose to keep lying to ourselves. We create stories that keep some people at the center and others at their feet.
The gospel I know would have cared when people hung from trees, were sold away from their loved ones or taken from their homeland OR when our Black brother went missing at the beach in Mississippi. It would have lamented with those of us who were immediately triggered into fear—fear of losing our own children, whom we labor so hard to protect in a country that still struggles to break free from the chains of racism. Because the gospel of the Bible teaches that God created all of mankind in His image and breathed into all of us His breath of life. And for those of us who are in the body of Christ, we are all “a chosen people, a royal priesthood, a holy nation, God’s special possession, that you may declare the praises of him who called you out of darkness into his wonderful light” (1 Peter 2:9).
More than anything, we must remember who we all are. Through all of our troubled history, we have never ceased to be people made in the image of God. May we remember our history, but may our remembering never cause us to forget who we all are. We are ALL part of the Human Family and if we share the same faith in Jesus, we are all part of ONE body. As His people, we are called to be people of truth, love, and grace. That means we tell the truth about our history, not to condemn, not to shame, and not to divide, but because we belong to the One who is Truth and only the TRUTH will set us all free.
Dr. Anika T. Prather 