If race is your religion, victimhood is your reward

What a mess went down Wednesday as miscreants overran the U.S. Capitol, penetrating its premises like knife penetrates butter. Sickening on so many levels, and the truth about who was behind it all, I believe, has yet to come to light. There's more here than meets the eye, so I won't race to comment on that aspect, but I will address the issue of race and its injection into the non-race-related tragedy.

I was clueless about the mayhem taking place at the Capitol at first because, as is usually the case, my television was off; I was working on my business, not my full-time job that day; and, thus, I was not editing news copy. A friend reached out about posts and comments she was observing on social media. It was then I saw what resembled something out of a sci-fi movie. She told me about comments our fellow Black folks were writing -- comments that went something like, "If the protesters were black ..." followed by statements of outrage. The suggestion, of course, is that law enforcement would be picking off Black people.

I soon began to run into similar comments and shook my head. Many embracing this "what if" scenario were people who identify as Christians. Fellow Christians' response to this despicable behavior at our nation's Capitol was "If the protesters were Black" or "This is white privilege." Really? Their initial reaction was to be livid about something that was not the case -- to insert themselves as victims in a situation that did not render them such. They labeled themselves the "what if" victims -- and became infuriated about it. I don't know if even one Black person was in the crowd. Nonetheless, the response from many -- and Christians, I say again -- was to suggest, or state outright, that if Black people were in the crowd, law enforcement would have shot them, a sentiment Joe Biden echoed to play on the emotions of his base, Black people in particular -- you know, just his typical pandering propensity.

The comments angered me because they're just ridiculous, as statistics and what has been taking place for months with the rioting and tearing down communities and acting a fool don't support that theory. Law enforcement has done more bowing down before folks than putting an end to the nonsense and criminal behavior, fearful of being accused of what they're obviously going to be accused of anyway.

More than angering me, however, the "what if" question saddened me. Why? Because it further reveals the victimhood mentality that still runs rampant within my Black community. When you're outraged about a situation that you know is not the case, you have issues. What I mean is, when the protesters, according to your own admission, were not Black, why are you wasting energy being outraged about "what if?" It's bad enough when innocent Black people are mistreated. That's worth getting outraged about, but being outraged about something that is not the case is just sad. It reveals our level of "stuckness." We're stuck in a mindset as victims even when we're not victims. We can't even take comfort in not being victims because we constantly see ourselves as victims.

And, again, many of these "victims" are Christians, which makes me even sadder. People who shout "Victory in Jesus!" on Sunday, running around the aisles at church -- or around their living rooms worshipping online these days -- then cry victimhood on Monday make me sad. We cannot have it both ways. We cannot be both victim and victor. Yes, we strongly call out racism when it raises its ugly head, but we don't invoke it where it does not exist, and we definitely don't live a life of victimhood -- always pronouncing that "the man" is keeping us down. Didn't you say Sunday that "no one can curse whom God has blessed"? That you're the "head and not the tail"? That you have the favor of God to such an extent that no one's "privilege" could ever work to your detriment? What happened -- other than Sunday rolling into Monday, or to Wednesday in this case? If we're the church, we need to think like the church, not like the world. As children of God -- I'm talking about people who truly have a relationship with the Lord, not just go to church -- our first reaction should be to pray, to ask God for wisdom, to take the place He has assigned us. If, instead, our first thoughts are about race in a nonracial situation, it's because race is our religion. And if race is our religion, we'll reap that reward, which is continual victimhood and missing what God is calling us to do in this crucial hour. The true church should recognize that the battle we're in is a spiritual one, not a fleshly one, and it requires soldiers of the cross who refuse to get sidetracked by emotions that throw us off course.

The harsh race reactions I encountered suggests a coldness of heart unbefitting anyone claiming to walk with Christ, which is sad as well. It makes me wonder if some of these people would have felt better if more folks were shot, including innocent ones? I even saw comments that nearly blew me away -- about not being expected to sympathize with a white woman who was shot and killed at the Capitol if you had no sympathy for a Black woman shot in her bed. That kind of sentiment from people who claim Christ? This is where we are? Our level of compassion is dictated by the level of compassion someone else exhibits? I just can't, y'all. But, again, if race is your religion, your response is going to be a mess because your [lowercase-g] god cannot provide righteousness, only ridiculousness -- and folks wonder why they can't walk in victory.

God's people have an assignment. Healing is needed in our nation, but we cannot help heal others when we're not healed ourselves. A victimhood mentality reveals sickness that stops us from being effective when we're needed most. Furthermore, fixating on "white privilege" and embracing "If you don't feel for this, I won't feel for that" are not the heart of God. We need to align with His heart so we can be the light He's called us to be.

Two religions amount to one too many. It's time to choose one, time for the church to rise to great heights, not sink to new lows.

Adrienne Ross is owner of Adrienne Ross Communications and a former Southeast Missourian editorial board member.