A FREE section from The Problem of Slavery in Christian America.
The problems of slavery and racism in Christian America have never been problems of Scripture and Christian discipline, but of the lack of them. The simple applications of biblical principles were laid out already in 1693 by George Keith. Many others followed that example in addressing the particular evils of the system. What we need now is an example of how to address past sins in the area of race relations and be able to move forward. There is a great example of this in the Gospel according to Luke.
Beginning his last journey to Jerusalem before his crucifixion, Jesus gathered his disciples and began heading through Samaria (Luke 9:51 ff.). The Samaritans, however, did not receive him because they saw his intent was to go on through to Jerusalem. They interpreted this as the typical prejudice Jews held against Samaritans, who were seen as a half-breed, inferior class that could never regain full Jewishness, and who returned the favor. The disciples urged Jesus to call down judgment upon these Samaritans, but Jesus declined and decided simply to go around Samaria. As he did, he sent seventy of his disciples out as ambassadors to the cities he would be visiting, empowering these disciples to heal the sick and cast out demons. When they returned, they rejoiced at this power. Jesus spoke to them in terms that made it clear to them he was the Son of Man given all power from on High. It was probably unmistakable to these disciples that Jesus was referring to the great prophecy in Daniel 7—the giving of all power from the Father to the Son, and the sharing of the “saints” in this reign of power.
This teaching from Jesus led one young man, educated in the law, to probe for the fullness of this promise: “Teacher, what shall I do to inherit eternal life?” This was not Sunday school. The man had in mind a share in the rule of the Kingdom of God—the extension of God’s power over all the earth, through his saints, and a fiery judgment for his enemies. Still on the edge of Samaria, he may even have had a recent grudge in mind.
Jesus, however, answered him a bit obtusely, it seemed: “What is written in the Law? How do you read it?”
The man was a lawyer. He knew law answers. He could readily answer: “You shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your strength and with all your mind, and your neighbor as yourself.” Jesus replied, “You have answered correctly; do this, and you will live.”
That did not seem satisfactory for such a Kingdom as such a man probably had in mind. Where is all the dominion and all the judgment taking place, after all? How do we get rid of all these our enemies? He pressed more, as a lawyer might, with a fine legal-type distinction: “And who is my neighbor?”
What an odd question. Here was a man numbered among seventy privileged disciples who had just partaken of a foretaste of Jesus’ divine Kingdom power, healing the sick, and casting out demons. He had just also witnessed the Samaritans rebuff Jesus and send him around their villages. He also probably had been ill-received in a few of those cities he visited as well—not unlikely Samaritans as well. There is only one real reason this man would have asked exactly who was classified as a “neighbor” for the purposes of the law: he was probably like most Jews at the time deeply prejudiced, harboring deep rivalrous resentment against Samaritans, and stewing for a little revenge. Segregation would have been a good start.
It seems Jesus knew exactly what was beneath the man’s question. He responded by telling a racially charged story—one you have probably heard before, and probably not squarely in the context I just gave. It is called the parable of the Good Samaritan:
Jesus replied, “A man was going down from Jerusalem to Jericho, and he fell among robbers, who stripped him and beat him and departed, leaving him half dead. Now by chance a priest was going down that road, and when he saw him he passed by on the other side. So likewise a Levite, when he came to the place and saw him, passed by on the other side. But a Samaritan, as he journeyed, came to where he was, and when he saw him, he had compassion. He went to him and bound up his wounds, pouring on oil and wine. Then he set him on his own animal and brought him to an inn and took care of him. And the next day he took out two denarii and gave them to the innkeeper, saying, ‘Take care of him, and whatever more you spend, I will repay you when I come back.’ Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” He said, “The one who showed him mercy.” And Jesus said to him, “You go, and do likewise” (Luke 10:30–37).
This story holds the key for solving every bit of our modern problems of race relations. First, it is about race relations. It is about more than that, certainly, but it is about race relations. This much is clear, and while the ethnic and social tension between Samaritans and Jews is always a preaching point during the explanation of the text, it rarely enters the application part of the sermon. Granted, Jesus’ overall point does have a universal application: your neighbor includes whoever may be in your life, path, etc., in need of mercy, no matter their class, creed, origin, etc. But it is so easy to leave this as a generality, is it not? It is at least a lot safer to preach that way. But it is neither easy nor safe in conservative white America to preach hard while applying it specifically to black protesters, those imprisoned on drug charges, potential inner-city church planting, or a hundred social, political, and economic needs of minorities. Jesus’ lesson, however, extends to all of this and more. If your Good Samaritan sermon is not extending to specific applications for race relations, then it is not going as far as Jesus intended it.
An easy place to start is with awareness and acknowledgment. Start by acknowledging the distinct and painful history of blacks in America and by embracing that pain as part of our history. You do not even need to tell your black friends and social media circle what you learned and that you know it; just know it. That alone will be enough to inform your attitude, your sensitivity, your decisions, and to lay some groundwork for future actions where necessary.
Awareness will entail an immediate change in your orientation towards race relations, among other things, and social hypocrisies. Consider those, for example, who complain every February as if Black History Month sets a double standard and special treatment, but then demand recognition of their southern alleged heritage and protection of their statues and monuments. Consider this, especially when Black History Month truly is about marginalized historical facts, whereas the latter is often mythology. Consider when they demand blacks and their sympathizers please drop it already about grievances that happened in the past, but hey, do not touch statues of my past heroes. Consider how blacks past and present can receive this as nothing but pure hypocrisy, especially on the part of people who refuse to learn the difficult truth. Either our past matters, or it does not. If it matters (and it does), then all of it matters. Let us read all of it, and make all of it the basis for our emotions, thoughts, words, and deeds about past, present, and future.
Second, this parable is about applying the law of God. Specifically, it is about what Jesus called the second greatest commandment: love your neighbor as yourself (Matt. 24:37–40). This is second only to the command to love God with your whole self above all things. On these two laws, Jesus said, hang the entirety of God’s law and all the prophets. In the context of the history in this book, that includes such explicit laws as the ones listed by George Keith in 1693, and repeated by many other antislavery activists afterwards: do not kidnap, do not send escaped slaves back to their masters, do not separate what God has joined (marriages and families), do not oppress immigrants, do not share in the sins of Babylon, particularly trafficking in souls (persons), etc. These are all summarized, as Jesus said, by the single command, “Love your neighbor as yourself.” Following them would have ended American slavery before it began, and following them at any point along the way would have ended it before it got worse, or before we compounded judgment by persisting in them.
Loving our neighbor, however, would have required people to stand up, speak out, sacrifice, and even suffer—that is, real people engaging other real people for real needs and specific issues. “Love your neighbor” here, for Jesus, meant a Samaritan physically and financially supporting a Jew after a vicious attack by thugs in a bad part of town.
It meant obliterating racial divides, including a whole history of racial tensions, animosities, prejudices, and fears to address specific, and present, physical needs.
Loving our neighbor did not mean finding reasons why this person did not deserve such expensive love in this circumstance. As tempting as it would have been, the Samaritan could have absolved himself of responsibility through a variety of reasons: this guy should have known better than to take this notoriously dangerous road alone. Everyone knows you do not go down to that part of Chicago at night. I cannot get involved; I could get sued. What if that gang is waiting for the next guy? I have a family of my own that needs my time and money and care. Maybe he is faking it. He is playing victim. He just wants the welfare anyway. Give it to him and they will just all use you for it. Do not feed the beast. Ad infinitum.
For religious folk and conservatives, such rationalizations come easy, but when no one is watching, we do not even need one. The priest and the Levite (God’s designated temple workers) crossed the road to avoid the man altogether. They were his racial brethren, but their actions proved they did not love him and were not really his “neighbor.” Just as love transcends ethnicity, so does the lack of it. The parable is all about reversing this behavior.
When we feel the need to cross to the other side of the street, we can do so quite easily. We even have a doctrinal crosswalk: the ubiquitous argument that the Church must stay officially neutral on “political” and “social” affairs. We do not want to be like that liberal “Social Gospel,” which is no Gospel at all. The Church, in this prevalent view, only preaches salvation of souls and spiritual topics; the social and civil realms are left to God’s providence. But Jesus’ parable did not mean spiritual issues only. Had this been the case, the southern slaveholders could have stood just as guiltless before God for preaching to their slaves that if they just received Jesus in their hearts, they would be truly free—spiritually free (this argument was in fact used widely, and by men like Thornwell, George Whitefield, and many others). Yes, there is a sense, and a very high one, in which the parable is about salvation of the soul and spiritual things. Ultimately, Jesus is the only Good Samaritan, and we can only be the victim in the story, left for dead, helpless in our sin; Jesus comes along to pay the full price of our recovery. But if we stop here, the meaning of the parable can not only not make full sense to us, but so much of the rest of the New Testament cannot either. We are specifically told, for instance, to make the cross of Christ an ethic by which we treat others (Rom. 15:1–3; 1 Cor. 10:24, 31–33; 2 Cor. 5:14–15; Eph. 5:2, 25; Phil. 2:1–11). This means acting like the Good Samaritan ourselves, too. If Christ is the Good Samaritan, then you can read these Scriptures, and where Christ is either stated or implied, replace his name with “the Good Samaritan,” and at some point you must realize that the Good Samaritan’s cross-racial good works must become part of the good works to which we are called as well.
Some antislavery writers noted this deficiency in the church well. William Jay, son of our first Supreme Court Chief Justice, John Jay, applied the parable of the Good Samaritan in this very way:
“Do to others as you would they should do unto you,” is a law which if obeyed, would of itself banish slavery and oppression from the face of the earth. But unhappily the Church, or at least a portion of her ministers, have not always applied the precepts of the gospel to existing and popular sins. It is certainly no exaggerated statement, that not one sermon in a thousand delivered at the North contains the slightest allusion to the duties of Christians towards the colored population; while at the South multitudes of the clergy are as deeply involved in the iniquities of slavery as their hearers. It is no libel on the great body of our northern clergy to say that, in regard to the wrongs of the colored people, instead of performing the part of the good Samaritan, their highest merit consists in following the example of the priest and Levite, and passing by on the other side, without inflicting new injuries on their wounded brother.1
Note that Jay indicted the churches in the free North just as fully as those in the South; he held both responsible. With the exception of churches that were mostly unorthodox and even apostate, few if any listened. The southern churches had such terrible implacability, and had worked so mightily against the slaves, that after the war, the blacks left in large majorities. They never returned, and the southern churches did little to win them back. If we wonder why, today, the left has a virtual monopoly on the affections of blacks, it is because the conservative Christians—when we were not the ones robbing the blacks and leaving them for dead to begin with—were on the other side of the street during the entire history in which they needed help.
The parable calls us to stay on the side of the street where the problem is, and address it. That is loving our neighbor. If doing that means we chuck one of the most socially-damaging doctrines in the history of the church, then we had better leap at the opportunity to do so.
Third, this parable corrects wrong perceptions about how to solve race relations. The lawyer seemed to expect some form of legal right to exclusion, perhaps even segregation. “Who is my neighbor,” implies, “Certainly not those people.” But more to the point, in the light of the displays of divine power in which he had just partaken, and the fresh suggestion from Jesus that this was the big event, the coming of the Son of Man and the rule of his saints, this guy wanted his idea of power to the full degree. Jesus’ answer came back in the form of just the opposite: this is about loving your neighbor, and that means inclusion rather than exclusion, breaking down social barriers rather than erecting new ones. This type of power means sacrificing yourself rather than bringing down judgment against others.
Fourth, the parable illustrates that real and lasting change, therefore, only comes about privately and voluntarily. The state factors nowhere into Jesus’ teaching of loving your neighbor. He does not say to get out of the way and call Caesar to deal with this guy. The Samaritan does not call 911. He does not call for Roman SWAT raids or Herodian healthcare programs. He calls for a private individual to sacrifice of himself for the care and expense of a wounded victim. Only the churches, private individuals, and businesses are in a position even to start changing this—and they must, or else nothing will ever change.
Conservatives and liberals are both to blame here because both look to the state to solve a problem that can only be solved at the level of private hearts and voluntary individual actions. Conservatives have focused on the thugs and called for greater state action to combat them. They virtually ignore the victim. Instead, they extract tax money from other passersby to fund more boots on the ground, more prisons, etc. This was, in fact, much of the South’s first response to the end of slavery: to create municipal police forces to control blacks. Liberals historically focused on civil government solutions to both, but today focus more commonly only creating government programs to help the victim. The problem is, studies routinely show that such programs hurt far more than they help. Even liberal activists are now pointing out the failures of Affirmative Action programs, among others. Even these, however, can see no solution other than to move to even greater government programs: full socialism.
Perhaps nothing is doing blacks as much systematic harm today as central planning and social engineering programs. Study after study shows that minorities, especially the most vulnerable and needy, suffer from government intervention in wages, jobs, welfare. State policies, programs, and the war on drugs together hurt far more than they help. The state is now the gang of robbers and thugs; yet, conservatives focus too much on private crime. Notice that Jesus does not say a word about confronting the gang of thugs in this parable. Obviously, they need to face justice; and since the State is now the gang inflicting the damage, we do need to reform the state. Jesus, however, seem more concerned to mention those people who crossed to the other side of the street— for they did not engage privately themselves. The Good Samaritan is not the person who shares one more news story about increased crime rates in the Jericho Road district, demanding we vote in new officials, send in SWAT teams, or put more cops on the street to combat these bad guys. Posting on social media also gets done from the other side of the road. Jesus’ Good Samaritan approached the victim himself. Jesus did not call for police action, but private action. Jesus also did not call for the Great Society, he called for a Good Samaritan.
Neither of these approaches have worked, and neither will, because they fail the elementary aspect of Jesus’ teaching: love. Love is not coercion, and the state is only an agent of coercion. It has no other function and can work no other way. Its job is to be the last resort in society: the coercion of criminals through punishment. Its nature and its funding are coercion. Any solution it offers will inescapably be coercive. When we make it the primary agent of healing, we fundamentally alter the nature of society. We ought to have a society in which the power of love drives us to break down all social, class, and political barriers, and to effect healing through private means, private associations, private institutions, counselors, networks, schools, hospitals, charities, businesses, etc. It ought to be driven by giving. Love is giving; selfishness is taking. When we make the state the mover, we make the primary solution one of taking rather than giving. This inverts God’s designed order for all human relations, including race relations and racial healing.
A society of taking rather than giving has adverse, but predictable, consequences. As already mentioned, we grow polarized and we grow defensive. Then we grow bitter, entrenched, implacable, and incorrigible. Blacks resent whites for not acknowledging the past and even possible lasting effects. Whites resent blacks for social programs that benefit blacks. Blacks resent whites for fighting social programs created for blacks. Whites resent blacks for demanding more. Blacks resent whites for fighting back more. With enough back and forth, eventually whites resent blacks in general, and blacks resent whites in general, at least politically speaking. Both attempt to use government to prevent the other’s political efforts. Both assert the moral prerogative to employ government on their side of the cause. But nothing advances except resentment, and resentment always has violence on its horizon.
This is a national sin, not only a southern sin. But it is in fact a national sin. A national sin does not necessarily entail a government sin, and thus one government must address. A national sin, however, is one in which most of our nation shared at one time, one which affects a part of our population now distributed throughout the nation. It is one, therefore, which must be addressed throughout the nation as well.
We, all of us—but conservatives especially—are adept at trying to absolve ourselves in this area through the argument from necessity. We acknowledge that liberal programs make problems worse, and yet liberal politicians call only for more liberal programs. Blacks generally receive liberal promises openly, so conservative writers end up sounding as if they resent both the liberals and the blacks. When conservatives foresee matters only getting worse, they hunker down and call for more police, more “law and order,” and more “tough on crime” action. We have to do this out of necessity—self-preservation, they say.
If we do not, drug dealers will rule the streets, etc. The slave owners, Jim Crow segregationists, and others employed this same argument to justify their prejudices, too. Even some of the earliest antislavery advocates desired to end slavery out of self-preservation—based upon a fear that too many blacks in society would cause problems. Thus, slavery remained, and when it was ended, whites said they must use police and segregation out of necessity for self-preservation. KKK violence and the lynching of black “rapists” were routinely justified on this argument. It was a very similar impulse to that with which the young lawyer struggled when he asked Jesus, “Who is my neighbor?” The text says he asked this because he wanted to “justify himself.” How was this justifying himself? What about himself could this question have justified? Only his animosities against others in society and his desire to advance the dominion of God’s Kingdom by power and coercion. But there is no absolution through fear; only through love. This means there is no remedy through the state, only through private individuals.
Not only can states not solve this problem, state interference can only make it worse. The usual demand and effort to confront racial fears and maladies through force and coercion have exacerbated the problem beyond what it ever should have been. This injury began from the beginning and continued throughout: the state was there to sanction and regulate the importation of blacks, their enslavement, keeping them enslaved, perpetuating the myths of the danger and hypersexuality of blacks, fear of rebellion of blacks, fear of blacks voting in numbers, fear of black political power, fear of their retribution, etc.—all compounded due to the last decisions made. Such consistent injustices caused so much resentment that leftists were birthed, grew up, and gained power because of them. In turn, hard-core nationalist and racist right groups emerged again. No less a conservative authority than Thomas Sowell has noted these realities and their relationships:
The civil rights vision and civil rights leadership continue pushing an approach which has proved counterproductive for the mass of disadvantaged blacks, beneficial primarily to those already advantaged, and which accumulates resentments against all blacks. These resentments are increasingly expressed in hates groups like the Ku Klux Klan and the Nazis, which are gaining members not only among ignorant southern rednecks but also in more middle class and educated classes across the nation—in short, in places where they never had a foothold before. Earmarked benefits for blacks provide some of these hate groups’ strongest appeals to whites, however little these earmarked policies actually help blacks, either absolutely or compared to more general social benefits that would not have the same potential for racial polarization.2
In terms of current events and politics, Sowell is certainly right: the programs do not work, and the resentments they cause only compound the problem. In the larger picture, however, those resentments arose among blacks first, and they were perfectly legitimate after decades of slavery and segregation. This is the only reason leftist forces succeeded to begin with: progressive liberalism joined black righteous resentment. The latter was legitimate; the former was not, but it was the only organization in society willing to reach out to the latter. Had the church done its job at any stage along the way, the rise of the modern programs Sowell rightfully decries would not have prevailed. Conservative southerners, however, defied racial integration unbendingly. They would stand or be broken only. As Sowell notes elsewhere, “What was necessary to break the old racial politics of the South was at least a substantial minority of white voters responsive to other issues—including racial peace—to split the white vote, and so make it politically impossible for any party to antagonize the entire black electorate and expect to win. This was in fact the political situation in the South in the wake of the enfranchisement of blacks.”3 That substantial minority of white voters could have, should have, been the conservative churches reaching out, repenting, apologizing, welcoming blacks. Instead, it was liberal whites. Guess who still has the allegiance of most blacks today? This will not change until the necessary Christian and conservative groups change.
Loving our neighbor in this parable also did not mean merely attending a racially-integrated synagogue once a week to “worship” together and to exchange pleasantries before segregating back to our roasts and tea. Integrated corporate worship may not even be the best thing to do. Awareness and outreach are necessary. But there is much more that can be done: private schools for the disadvantaged, biblically based drug rehab groups (with focused long-term accountability groups), entrepreneurship and business training, no-interest loans for brethren, money management and home budget training, family counseling discipleship, parenting courses, cooking and nutrition education, and much more. Folks who balk by saying “these things are not the church’s job” understand neither the church nor its job. They are also the reason the state and leftists have a virtual monopoly on black social progress, and why blacks have hardly any affection for the conservative church, especially in the South.
Lest there be any confusion, no one has written more forcefully than myself opposing the state and statist, socialist programs, including public schools.4 Even if I were to be persuaded of a program for “reparations” and even used the term, it could only meaningfully be carried out through private means. The practical obstacles to a state-run program of reparations for, say, the effects of slavery, are so voluminous and massive they render the idea not only merely daunting but virtually impossible. (Who gets paid? Who does not? Who pays? How much? What form? How long? Is it only blacks? All blacks? What exactly constitutes the type of grievances for which someone could receive? What about whites who immigrated well after slavery and had nothing to do with it? And scores more questions.) This does not mean some form of restitution was never due, or that some form of help or aid no longer is; conservatives and Christians would do well to dwell long on this point. When we deny that the state can be the Good Samaritan, we do not simultaneously deny that there is a problem still before us. Dismissing progressivism should only impress a burden more consciously upon us as private individuals.
But lest we fail to get the point, public schools only ascended in the South after the Civil War, and specifically to meet the need of millions of black slaves, most of whom had never been allowed even to learn to read. Not only had the Christians failed here, many had actively joined the opposition to educating blacks. When occupying forces introduced the idea of “common” (public) schools for the job, where were the churches? Did they rise up in league with Christian businessmen, industrialists, philanthropists, and planters and provide private Christians schools to elevate the blacks out of their condition? There were few if any to be found. Of course government schools would prevail! But they did not have to, and they do not have to now, and neither does any other government program. They help only a few, invert society from one of love to one of coercion, and cause resentment and bitterness on all sides. Yet if we do not act privately, such institutions will prevail as the only alternatives and, perhaps, as a form of judgment upon us.
Fifth, Jesus’ solution is one of mercy. When Jesus had made the point obvious for the lawyer, he asked, “Which of these three, do you think, proved to be a neighbor to the man who fell among the robbers?” The lawyer responded, “The one who showed him mercy.” Jesus’ response, “You go, and do likewise,” shows the man had answered correctly. The man who had mercy, and showed it through his acts of selfless, healing giving, was the one who loved his neighbor, and that is what we should do, too.
This thing called mercy has a few important characteristics which the parable illustrates. For one, this mercy addresses the actual wound. It is a healing effort. It could just as well meet any real need; it could be a feeding effort, educating effort, child care effort, marriage counseling effort, etc. All can be summed up under the term “healing.” Those who love their neighbor ought to be involved in some effort to heal relationships and communities. In this racial context, this parable involves a call to overcoming racial animosities through healing ministries of whatever is needed.
Further, mercy sticks with the work until the wound is healed and the person fully recovered. It is a lasting effort. Not only did the Good Samaritan give the effort, use his own oil and wine, provide medical care, give the victim his place on his own beast, pay for the room, place the man under care, and pay the bill, when he had to leave he also promised to pay the innkeeper all further costs when he came back. This is not short-term missions, or photo-op ministry; this is a person with a commitment for the duration, until the healing is completed. Rest assured, whatever is ultimately entailed in healing racial animosities like this, it does not simply vanish overnight with the flick of a switch. It may take time, and some aspects may take more time than others. The Good Samaritan keeps checking back to make sure the cure is truly a long-term cure.
Moreover, mercy does not mind paying the price, personally. It is a giving effort. We just mentioned how much the Good Samaritan gave to his racial (and probably racist) “enemy,” the victim. He did not think anything of divesting his own possessions, stores, mount, and money in order to make sure this problem was overcome with love; and he was willing to keep paying until it was fully overcome.
Most of the same obstacles which render a state-based solution to healing a virtual impossibility also seem on the surface to make private solutions overwhelming as well; but under a widespread, decentralized but pervasive system of private giving (in all areas), with the mind and giving humility of Christ, the objections to the many questions have far less power. Who gets paid? Whoever has a need. All blacks? Sure, who cares, if they have needs? We would love to meet them. We love lifting people from disadvantage to education, health, confidence, loving their wife, etc. How much? Until needs get met. Consider here that people “healed” and raised to success will only gladly turn to feed back into the system, probably as counselors and mentors themselves. How much? However much the needs cost.
From this perspective, who cares if we are engaging “reparations” or not? As long as the results are apparent, who would complain? The leftists? Let them howl. If the conservatives, churches, businesses, and individuals were unified enough in a decentralized but concerted effort, no leftist forces could prevail against them. And if such a network of private alternatives truly improved the lives and relations of blacks, other minorities, and the less advantaged in general, it would not take long before a full social and political change followed as well. We would probably witness a fight to protect a better way of life against old allegiances who, as would have become apparent, had been lying about the Great Society and hope and change for decades.
But what about that stickiest of questions: “Who pays?” The answer is, “Who is my neighbor?”
Do we want to be Christians or not?
For some, we can start by simply acknowledging the truth of the history written in this book. We can recognize the hurt that our black brothers and sisters experience through knowing millions of whites around them not only do not care enough to acknowledge it, but sometimes actively deny it. Acknowledge it. Then start to heal that wound. Then move on to something bigger.
- William Jay, “An Address to the Anti-Slavery Christians of the United States. Signed by a Number of Clergymen and Others,” June 1852, in Miscellaneous Writings on Slavery (Boston: John P. Jewett and Co.; Cleveland, OH: Jewett, Proctor, and Worthington; and London: Sampson Low, Son and Co., 1853), 653.(↩)
- Thomas Sowell, Civil Rights: Rhetoric or Reality? (New York: Quill and William Morrow, 1984), 90.(↩)
- Thomas Sowell, Race and Culture: A World View (New York: BasicBooks, 1994), 130.(↩)
- See Joel McDurmon, God versus Socialism: A Biblical Critique of the New Social Gospel (Powder Springs, GA: American Vision Press, 2009), and Restoring America One County at a Time (Powder Springs, GA: American Vision Press, 2012).(↩)