America, a religious nation, has had throughout our history a type of intellectual leader that has been termed the public theologian. Henry Ward Beecher, Abp. Fulton Sheen, the Niebuhrs, Billy Graham, and Fr. Richard Neuhaus are among the most prominent examples. Now, Esau McCauley is using his broad pulpit — reaching from Wheaton College to the pages of the New York Times — to call American Christians back to their religious ideals, with a particular focus on race, the lived experiences of the Black church, and a full recognition of the Black church in our history and the history of our theology.
Why write this book? McCauley speaks poignantly about his experiences in a theological world where “the questions of my people were ignored” and he “began to search for theologians who could help me make sense of what it means to be Black and Christian. When I found African-American theological voices in print, I was overjoyed to discover people who seemed to care about some of the same things I cared about. The conversations in these works felt like the raw and honest talk that went on between my aunts and uncles at dinner tables where only ‘grown folks’ were allowed.”
Yet McCauley “couldn’t shake the feeling that voices were missing” – notably, in the academy, voices from the orthodox evangelical tradition rather than progressive interpretations. The book is a call to add and reclaim those voices, enriching and broadening evangelical theology.
Though written for an academic audience, the work is nevertheless approachable and readable by lay Christians who know Scripture and love the church. McCauley covers issues of the political witness of the church, anger, and Black history. In tracing the story of Scripture through this lens, he reminds us of Resurrection and final judgment in terms that resonate with our national life this year. His discussion guide provides a helpful way for small groups to facilitate and navigate their discussions.
His chapter on policing is instructive and powerful. Relying on Romans 13:1-7 as a foundational text as well as his own experiences of being wrongly stopped and investigated for “driving while Black”– when, in a mockery of the text, “rulers were a terror to” good conduct rather than bad– McCauley focuses on Paul’s conception of the state. He concludes, with Paul, that reforms must be structural as well as in the hearts of individuals bearing the sword, so that all those who are good, of all races, may “receive the approval” of the state for doing “what is good.” In the Black community, unfair and blatantly racist policing is a prime example of the state doing what is not good. Some may question the need for a theology of policing, but McCauley’s insistence on its necessity reflects Jesus’ Lordship of all things, including matters of public life, society, and governance.
In our public life, anger is having its moment. Rage is everywhere in our politics and in our culture. Does anger have a place in the life of our Christian faith? McCauley recounts his first encounter with racism as a young child and his “awareness of powerlessness” that accompanied his “emotional assault.” His exegesis of Psalm 137 is one of his most important points. With Psalm 137 in the canon, “the suffering of the traumatized is a part of the permanent record. God wanted Israel and us to know what human sin had done to the powerless.” He argues that a text like this in scripture “gives us permission to remember and feel… and allows us to bring the depth of our experiences to God.”
A prophetic call for justice runs throughout this book. Justice is a prime aspect of God’s nature, and as his image-bearers we can and must exercise our agency for justice for the common good. Many black Christians “have never had the luxury of separating our faith from political action.” He posits, “The question that ought to keep Christians up at night is not the political activism of Black Christians. The question should be how I Timothy 2:1-4 came to dominate the conversation about the Christian’s responsibility to the state.” The call to pray for our leaders is important, but justice must equally be part of the equation in our thinking about our responsibility to the state.
This work, firmly in the evangelical theological tradition, belongs on the shelves of pastors, concerned lay leaders, and those who lead us in discipleship. It deepens our understanding of the richness of our tradition which honors Christ as Lord and the Bible as God’s Word, from the perspective of those who, like the early Christians, have experienced suffering and yet remained faithful, trusting in our Lord. Our formation as mature Christians must include prayer and justice firmly grounded from a place of love.
In this fraught and sad year when yet again violence against Black citizens has led to protests for social change, McCauley is nevertheless able to conclude with “an exercise in hope.” Our hope is fully fixed on God with “hope arising from its reading the Biblical texts.” He reminds us with echoes of Romans 12:1-2 that our hope is living and active.
Hope– that fundamental Christian virtue of I Corinthians 13– is too often overlooked between faith and love, and is an example of what honoring the Black evangelical tradition brings to our common life. In his Bonus Track at the end, McCauley hints that he will write another book. Please do, Rev. McCauley, we need your witness, voice, and wisdom.