(Editor’s Note: Racism is one of the most painful and misunderstood realities shaping both society and the church today. Many Christians want to engage these conversations faithfully but feel uncertain about where to begin, how to think biblically about race and justice, or how the church itself has contributed to racial harm throughout history. This four-part series from the Racial Justice Institute explores racism from theological, historical, and practical perspectives — helping readers understand what racism is, how Christian theology has been used both to uphold and confront it, what Scripture says about justice, and how churches can participate in meaningful repair and transformation today.)
Many Christians believe racism is only obvious, extreme, personal hatred: using slurs, marching with the Ku Klux Klan, or committing a hate crime. But if that’s our only definition, we’ll miss most of the ways racism actually operates. Racism is broader than animosity and can be more subtle than slurs.
Racism is more than personal prejudice; it’s the combination of racial bias and the power — personal, cultural, or institutional — to shape outcomes, opportunities, and dignity based on race. It is a spiritual problem, backed by distorted theology, that creates pervasive social problems.
Racism Is a Sin Against the Image of God
There are two theological bases on which we can categorize racism as sin.
Scripture teaches that every human being is made in the image of God (Gen. 1:27). Any ideology that suggests otherwise is a rejection of that truth. Racism is not just a failure of manners or a cultural disagreement; it is a spiritual lie that assigns hierarchy to God’s image. When this truth is rejected in order to justify harm, exclusion, or domination, it becomes the foundation for countless oppressive and sinful actions.
Jesus named the greatest commandments as loving God and loving your neighbor (Mark 12:30–31). Racism is a betrayal of both. It distorts our understanding of neighbor, restricts our empathy, and creates systems of exclusion and harm.
Throughout the Old and New Testaments, God’s people are consistently called to care for those who are marginalized and to remember that injustice against the vulnerable is an offense to God (Matt. 25:31-40).
The Exodus story can be read as an example of God’s posture toward systems of oppression. Pharaoh’s campaign against the Israelites was more than personal bias. It was a national policy of oppression. When God liberates the Israelites from slavery, oppressed people throughout history have read it as a divine critique of all systems like it.
That interpretation is echoed by the prophets, who insisted that God condemned not just individual wrongdoing, but also entire societies that exploit the poor and favor the powerful (Ps. 82; Amos 5:11–12; Isa. 10:1–2).
Racism Is More than Personal Prejudice
Prejudice is part of racism, but it isn’t a large enough conceptual container to hold all that racism is.
Prejudice is largely an attitude or belief. It’s a type of bias — a snap judgment or assumption — that any of us can hold toward others, regardless of race.
Racism differs from ordinary prejudice because it often involves power and can operate impersonally through systems, institutions, and cultural patterns, even without conscious racial hostility.
For example, a 2024 study revealed that economists sent 83,000 identical fake résumés — differing only in “racially distinctive” names — to 11,000 entry-level jobs at Fortune 500 companies. Applicants with names more common for White people (e.g., Brad, Amanda) received callbacks at roughly double the rate of those with names more common for Black people (e.g., Darnell, Ebony).
This study is one of many examples of racism as empowered prejudice: The hiring managers from this study probably wouldn’t say they dislike Black people, but popular anti-Black biases clearly informed their preference to hire applicants they presumed to be White.
The Many Forms of Racism
Another factor that makes racism difficult to understand and discuss is that people often focus on just one type — usually the one they’re most familiar with — and treat it as the only kind. In truth, racism manifests in many ways. Here are a few:
- Interpersonal racism is probably the most familiar form of racism. This is hate expressed in insults, discrimination, and violence.
- Cultural racism refers to norms, values, and ideals that shape everyday behaviors, such as beauty standards or ideas about professionalism. In church, this extends to ministers deeming certain expressions of Christian faith as inferior because they’re rooted in the cultural expression of racially marginalized groups, or, in multiethnic settings, the preferencing of certain Anglo worship styles over those represented in the wider congregation.
- Institutional or structural racism happens when schools, businesses, or churches function in ways that exclude or disadvantage people of color, even without intending to. It’s the accumulated result of history — how past racial injustices continue to shape housing, education, health care, employment, and policing today. In ministry, it’s important to be mindful about whether certain types of people are over-represented in leadership and positions of influence. Who are the saints we revere and the theologians we quote? If they are mostly White and male, why is that?
- Internalized racism is when racialized people absorb, uphold, and even spread harmful beliefs about their own worth, beauty, or value from the surrounding culture.
All of these are different expressions of the same root sin: rejecting the full dignity of others (or ourselves) based on race.
Why Definitions Matter
Some may ask: Why does it matter how we define racism? Isn’t it enough just to be kind to everyone?
Defining racism accurately helps us recognize it more clearly. If we believe racism only exists when someone is openly hateful, we will overlook the deeper patterns that shape opportunities, institutions, and life outcomes.
Racism affects housing, education, employment, health care, immigration, and the criminal justice system in ways that are often invisible to those not directly impacted by them. Christians are called not only to reject hatred, but also to pursue justice and love our neighbors faithfully. We cannot confront injustice wisely if we misunderstand how it works.
Andre Henry is program manager of the Racial Justice Institute. He is a student of nonviolent struggle and social change, including studying leadership in nonviolent movements for social change through the Harvard Kennedy School. He holds a BA in Practical Theology and an MA in Theology with an emphasis in Biblical Languages.
3 Responses
Thank you, for such enlightening information. I often wonder why some churches refuse to discuss Racism or anything that’s happening in the world today.
This is very a comprehensive and objective description of racism. Well done, good and faithful servant.
I appreciate the way this article widens the lens on racism. Naming the interpersonal, cultural, and structural dimensions helps us see the broader patterns of harm that often remain invisible. The research cited — including disparities in hiring and decision‑making — reminds us that racism is not only about overt hostility but also about the accumulated impact of many small, often unconscious choices. That’s an important truth.
I’m also grateful that the author grounds the conversation in the imago Dei. Scripture is clear: to diminish another human being on the basis of skin color is to dishonor the image of God in them. That theological starting point matters.
At the same time, as a follower of Jesus, I find myself sensing that something essential is missing. The article describes the branches of racism — the systems, structures, and outcomes that grow over time — but I don’t hear it naming the root. And Jesus always goes to the root.
Throughout the Gospels, Jesus consistently begins with the heart. He teaches that the deepest transformations do not start from the outside in, but from the inside out. “Make the tree good,” He says, “and its fruit will be good.” Systems matter, but they are downstream of the human heart. They reflect what people love, fear, protect, and cling to. They reveal the inner architecture of sin.
So while I value the article’s attention to the scale of harm, I also believe the Christian story offers something deeper: new creation. Jesus doesn’t simply expose the patterns of racism; He heals the roots of it. He breaks hostility in His own body. He forms a new humanity. He pours out the Spirit who renews minds, softens hearts, and teaches us to love across every dividing wall.
Any Christian conversation about racism that names the imago Dei but stops short of naming the transforming work of Christ feels incomplete. The gospel does not only diagnose the scale of harm and the sting of the wound — it offers the cure. And the cure is not merely better systems, laws, and social policy, but renewed hearts, reconciled communities, and the Spirit‑empowered formation of people who embody the self‑giving love of Jesus.
So I receive the article’s insights about the breadth of racial harm. But I also hold onto the deeper truth that real healing — the kind that changes both people and the structures they build — begins with the One who makes all things new.