What do you think?
Is God a White Racist?: A Preamble to Black Theology
Published originally as part of C. Eric Lincoln's series on the black religious experience, Is God a White Racist? is a landmark critique of the black church's treatment of evil and the nature of suffering. In this powerful examination of the early liberation methodology of James Cone, J. Deotis Roberts, and Joseph Washington, among others, Jones questions whether their foundation for black Christian theism—the belief in an omnibenevolent God who has dominion over human history—can provide an adequate theological foundation to effectively dismantle the economic, social, and political framework of oppression.Seeing divine benevolence as part of oppression's mechanism of disguise, Jones argues that black liberation theologians must adopt a new theism that is informed by humanism and its principle of the functional ultimacy of wo/man, where human choice and action determine whether our condition is slavery or freedom.
292 pages, Kindle Edition
First published January 1, 1973
Ratings & Reviews
Friends & Following
Create a free account to discover what your friends think of this book!
Community Reviews
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews
July 4, 2024
A CHALLENGING CRITICAL ASSESSMENT OF "BLACK THEOLOGY"
At the time this book was published in 1973, William R. Jones was a professor of religion and director of black studies at Florida State University. In the Preface to this 1998 edition, he wrote that this book "personified my plan for black liberation and my uncommon religious conversion from black Christian fundamentalism to black religious humanism... IGWR's argument comprised a constructive criticism of the black church and black theology that blended deconstruction and reconstruction.” (Pg. vii) Later, he added, “[The book] took the centrality of the black church and black Christianity in the community as its point of departure. But it took exception to other hypotheses that assigned positive value to the black church and black Christianity as instruments of liberation---arguing instead that black Christianity was a form of mis-religion that fulfilled a vital role in keeping blacks oppressed. In particular, it challenged as flawed the twin claims that ‘though blacks accepted the white man’s religions,’ they recreated and remolded it to fit their ‘own peculiar needs,’ and that ‘the black man’s pilgrimage in America was made less onerous because of his religion.’” (Pg. xv)
He wrote in the Introduction of Rabbi Richard Rubenstein's book After Auschwitz: Radical Theology and Contemporary Judaism. “His analysis of Jewish suffering forced me to pose a troublesome question that he does not explicitly consider: Is God an anti-Semite? The implications of his study for my own explorations in black theology were direct and immediate. In the light of black suffering, a suffering that may exceed that of the Jews, the unsettling question becomes: Is God a white racist?” (Pg. xxii) He continues, “The issue of divine racism surfaces whenever a specific type of suffering, which I identify as ‘ethnic suffering,’ is joined with particular interpretations of God’s sovereignty over human history… with the intent of establishing divine racism as not only a legitimate but an irreducible theological category.” (Pg. xxiii)
He explains, “A former colleague responded to my claim about the centrality of theodicy with this criticism:… he concluded that I do not sufficiently honor the black perspective. This is an eminently fair challenge, and the bulk of this book is an implicit reply to it… Theodicy, I will show, is already at the heart of theology; I simply call attention to this fact.” (Pg. xxiii-xxiv)
He concludes the Introduction, “a new model for treating black suffering must be sought. I suggest that what I term ‘humanocentric theism’ and ‘secular’ humanism are the best candidates. The essential feature of both is the advocacy of the ‘functional ultimacy of man.’ Man must act AS IF he were the ultimate valuator or the ultimate agent in human history or both. Thus God’s responsibility for the crimes and errors of human history is reduced if not effectively eliminated.” (Pg. xxviii) He adds, “features of black theologians … must be modified if humanocentric theism or secular humanism is accepted as normative. The belief, for instance, that blacks are God’s chosen people must be abandoned.” (Pg. xxviii)
In the first chapter, he states, “To speak of divine racism is to raise questions about God’s equal love and concern for all men. It is to suggest that He is for some but not for others, or at least not for all equally. It asks whether there is a demonic streak in the divine nature. The charge of divine racism, in the final analysis, is a frontal challenge to the claim of God’s benevolence for all.” (Pg. 6) He adds, “in the face of human suffering, whatever its character, we must entertain the possibility that it is an expression of divine hostility… the particular category of black suffering… at least suggests the possibility of divine racism, a particular form of hostility.” (Pg. 9)
He asserts, “Having shown that deserved punishment is a possible interpretation of suffering and that a theodicy of deserved punishment involves quietism, we have arrived at the position where we can demand the following: the Christian who wants to eliminate suffering or reduce it, the Christian who wants to heal the sick, must confirm that the suffering itself is not deserved punishment. Such a demonstration, I conclude, is exceedingly difficult to formulate.” (Pg. 56)
He outlines, “[Chapter V] purports to show that the issue of divine racism has been illegitimately ignored by the current black theologians… the absence of an analysis and denial of the question ‘Is God a white racist?’ constitutes a curious inconsistency and removes the necessary support the superstructure of their respective systems requires. I will show specifically that the issue of divine racism is implicit in the following propositions affirmed by the black theologians: black theology is a theology of liberation; the politics of God and blacks as God’s chosen people are central themes in black theology; and black theology is committed to a total a comprehensive examination of the Christian tradition.” (Pg. 71)
Commenting on James Cone’s book A Black Theology of Liberation, he says, “Note the core of Cone’s argument here. It is by virtue of their status as the oppressed that blacks occupy the unique epistemological position that makes they sole judge of the character of their sin and its relation to their suffering. However, without a pervasive refutation of the theodicy of deserved punishment, the classification of blacks as oppressed clearly begs the question, and Cone’s theodicy is invalid until this flaw is determined.” (Pg. 105)
He continues, “In point of fact, does not the continued suffering of blacks AFTER the Resurrection raise the essential question all over again: Is God for blacks? We must not forget that black misery, slavery, and oppression---the very facts that make black liberation necessary---are all POST-Resurrection events. Must not the fact of black oppression after the Resurrection raise the most serious questions about Cone’s designation of the Resurrection as the event of universal liberation? It is closer to the truth, it seems, to say that Cone is affirming liberation in an unliberated world!” (Pg. 119)
He clarifies, “It is not my intention to eliminate the category of hope from black theology. Hope is necessary to motivate an oppressed people to undertake its liberation. What I insist upon is some clarity about the different types of hope. Must a black theology appeal primarily to an extrahuman or suprahuman ground? Is hope in God, as they interpret him, the only basis for black religion? If this is what black theologians affirm, then they are obliged to justify hope in this suprahuman factor in light of the intolerable surplus of black suffering, which is their own point of departure for theologizing. If they invoke God as their hope, they had better be certain that He is in fact on the side of black people. For my part, I would emphasize an ANTHROPOLOGY of hope rather than a THEOLOGY of hope. By this I express a conviction not to seek aid beyond the human level.” (Pg. 141-142)
He articulates, “My own constructive enterprise, the formulation of a black theology rivaling those now available, lies in the immediate future. It will consummate in a statement utilizing the framework of ‘secular’ humanism. In fact, the purpose and content of this present book become clearer if it is seen as an attempt to make a place in the theological circle for a non-theistic model. The present work, in a real sense, is a prolegomenon to my own future statement in black theology, since the argument of this book explains why a humanistic model is necessary. “ (Pg. 171)
He argues, “the claim of God’s support for black liberation lacks substance until the black theologians refute the charge of divine racism. Their failure to provide a convincing rebuttal, along with their question-begging argument for divine sanction of black freedom, eliminates any real ground for black hope. Until they provide a more effective theodicy, the choice is between (a) a black hope based on God as a white racist and (b) one based on God as functionally neutral relative to human affairs. If these are the alternatives, then the choice open to us seem clear-cut.” (Pg. 197)
He concludes, “black theology … [must] move beyond the pain of Whiteanity’s precarious present and beyond the calamity of mis-religion’s problematic future to the realization of that promised that WE---theist and humanist---so desperately need, now.” (Pg. 214)
This is a challenging book, and retains its vigor even today.
At the time this book was published in 1973, William R. Jones was a professor of religion and director of black studies at Florida State University. In the Preface to this 1998 edition, he wrote that this book "personified my plan for black liberation and my uncommon religious conversion from black Christian fundamentalism to black religious humanism... IGWR's argument comprised a constructive criticism of the black church and black theology that blended deconstruction and reconstruction.” (Pg. vii) Later, he added, “[The book] took the centrality of the black church and black Christianity in the community as its point of departure. But it took exception to other hypotheses that assigned positive value to the black church and black Christianity as instruments of liberation---arguing instead that black Christianity was a form of mis-religion that fulfilled a vital role in keeping blacks oppressed. In particular, it challenged as flawed the twin claims that ‘though blacks accepted the white man’s religions,’ they recreated and remolded it to fit their ‘own peculiar needs,’ and that ‘the black man’s pilgrimage in America was made less onerous because of his religion.’” (Pg. xv)
He wrote in the Introduction of Rabbi Richard Rubenstein's book After Auschwitz: Radical Theology and Contemporary Judaism. “His analysis of Jewish suffering forced me to pose a troublesome question that he does not explicitly consider: Is God an anti-Semite? The implications of his study for my own explorations in black theology were direct and immediate. In the light of black suffering, a suffering that may exceed that of the Jews, the unsettling question becomes: Is God a white racist?” (Pg. xxii) He continues, “The issue of divine racism surfaces whenever a specific type of suffering, which I identify as ‘ethnic suffering,’ is joined with particular interpretations of God’s sovereignty over human history… with the intent of establishing divine racism as not only a legitimate but an irreducible theological category.” (Pg. xxiii)
He explains, “A former colleague responded to my claim about the centrality of theodicy with this criticism:… he concluded that I do not sufficiently honor the black perspective. This is an eminently fair challenge, and the bulk of this book is an implicit reply to it… Theodicy, I will show, is already at the heart of theology; I simply call attention to this fact.” (Pg. xxiii-xxiv)
He concludes the Introduction, “a new model for treating black suffering must be sought. I suggest that what I term ‘humanocentric theism’ and ‘secular’ humanism are the best candidates. The essential feature of both is the advocacy of the ‘functional ultimacy of man.’ Man must act AS IF he were the ultimate valuator or the ultimate agent in human history or both. Thus God’s responsibility for the crimes and errors of human history is reduced if not effectively eliminated.” (Pg. xxviii) He adds, “features of black theologians … must be modified if humanocentric theism or secular humanism is accepted as normative. The belief, for instance, that blacks are God’s chosen people must be abandoned.” (Pg. xxviii)
In the first chapter, he states, “To speak of divine racism is to raise questions about God’s equal love and concern for all men. It is to suggest that He is for some but not for others, or at least not for all equally. It asks whether there is a demonic streak in the divine nature. The charge of divine racism, in the final analysis, is a frontal challenge to the claim of God’s benevolence for all.” (Pg. 6) He adds, “in the face of human suffering, whatever its character, we must entertain the possibility that it is an expression of divine hostility… the particular category of black suffering… at least suggests the possibility of divine racism, a particular form of hostility.” (Pg. 9)
He asserts, “Having shown that deserved punishment is a possible interpretation of suffering and that a theodicy of deserved punishment involves quietism, we have arrived at the position where we can demand the following: the Christian who wants to eliminate suffering or reduce it, the Christian who wants to heal the sick, must confirm that the suffering itself is not deserved punishment. Such a demonstration, I conclude, is exceedingly difficult to formulate.” (Pg. 56)
He outlines, “[Chapter V] purports to show that the issue of divine racism has been illegitimately ignored by the current black theologians… the absence of an analysis and denial of the question ‘Is God a white racist?’ constitutes a curious inconsistency and removes the necessary support the superstructure of their respective systems requires. I will show specifically that the issue of divine racism is implicit in the following propositions affirmed by the black theologians: black theology is a theology of liberation; the politics of God and blacks as God’s chosen people are central themes in black theology; and black theology is committed to a total a comprehensive examination of the Christian tradition.” (Pg. 71)
Commenting on James Cone’s book A Black Theology of Liberation, he says, “Note the core of Cone’s argument here. It is by virtue of their status as the oppressed that blacks occupy the unique epistemological position that makes they sole judge of the character of their sin and its relation to their suffering. However, without a pervasive refutation of the theodicy of deserved punishment, the classification of blacks as oppressed clearly begs the question, and Cone’s theodicy is invalid until this flaw is determined.” (Pg. 105)
He continues, “In point of fact, does not the continued suffering of blacks AFTER the Resurrection raise the essential question all over again: Is God for blacks? We must not forget that black misery, slavery, and oppression---the very facts that make black liberation necessary---are all POST-Resurrection events. Must not the fact of black oppression after the Resurrection raise the most serious questions about Cone’s designation of the Resurrection as the event of universal liberation? It is closer to the truth, it seems, to say that Cone is affirming liberation in an unliberated world!” (Pg. 119)
He clarifies, “It is not my intention to eliminate the category of hope from black theology. Hope is necessary to motivate an oppressed people to undertake its liberation. What I insist upon is some clarity about the different types of hope. Must a black theology appeal primarily to an extrahuman or suprahuman ground? Is hope in God, as they interpret him, the only basis for black religion? If this is what black theologians affirm, then they are obliged to justify hope in this suprahuman factor in light of the intolerable surplus of black suffering, which is their own point of departure for theologizing. If they invoke God as their hope, they had better be certain that He is in fact on the side of black people. For my part, I would emphasize an ANTHROPOLOGY of hope rather than a THEOLOGY of hope. By this I express a conviction not to seek aid beyond the human level.” (Pg. 141-142)
He articulates, “My own constructive enterprise, the formulation of a black theology rivaling those now available, lies in the immediate future. It will consummate in a statement utilizing the framework of ‘secular’ humanism. In fact, the purpose and content of this present book become clearer if it is seen as an attempt to make a place in the theological circle for a non-theistic model. The present work, in a real sense, is a prolegomenon to my own future statement in black theology, since the argument of this book explains why a humanistic model is necessary. “ (Pg. 171)
He argues, “the claim of God’s support for black liberation lacks substance until the black theologians refute the charge of divine racism. Their failure to provide a convincing rebuttal, along with their question-begging argument for divine sanction of black freedom, eliminates any real ground for black hope. Until they provide a more effective theodicy, the choice is between (a) a black hope based on God as a white racist and (b) one based on God as functionally neutral relative to human affairs. If these are the alternatives, then the choice open to us seem clear-cut.” (Pg. 197)
He concludes, “black theology … [must] move beyond the pain of Whiteanity’s precarious present and beyond the calamity of mis-religion’s problematic future to the realization of that promised that WE---theist and humanist---so desperately need, now.” (Pg. 214)
This is a challenging book, and retains its vigor even today.
February 10, 2016
I read this after we talked about black theology in a religious education class at my church. I don't have any background at all in black theology, so a lot of the specifics of his argument were lost on me, but it was fascinating to me as an in-depth look at theodicy through the lens of oppression. Since I didn't know the authors he was arguing with, I don't know if his summaries of their positions were fair, but his arguments were clear and convincing.
The question I was left with after reading it was: If there's no convincing way to account for a benevolent God allowing racism and oppression other than to remove God from history, what's the point of continuing to believe in God (in the traditional Christian sense) at all? Jones seems to reach the same conclusion, saying that he ended up a secularist, but he doesn't get into that here.
The question I was left with after reading it was: If there's no convincing way to account for a benevolent God allowing racism and oppression other than to remove God from history, what's the point of continuing to believe in God (in the traditional Christian sense) at all? Jones seems to reach the same conclusion, saying that he ended up a secularist, but he doesn't get into that here.
October 24, 2017
I am still unsure if I agree with Jones' conclusions, though admittedly he seems to spurn too many hard and fast conclusions in favor of deconstructing what he sees as the logical problems of various black liberation theologies. The compelling way in which he lays out the arguments was at times a significant challenge to my faith, but it also really impacted the way I think about theology (I think for the better).
Maybe I shouldn't review this book immediately after reading it, but it is certainly a book I would recommend to anyone. Not only does it provide a compelling case for developing a theodicy, and challenges inconsistent theological thinking, but it offers excellent insight into the various theological movements both within black theology (and without) around the 1960s and 1970s.
Maybe I shouldn't review this book immediately after reading it, but it is certainly a book I would recommend to anyone. Not only does it provide a compelling case for developing a theodicy, and challenges inconsistent theological thinking, but it offers excellent insight into the various theological movements both within black theology (and without) around the 1960s and 1970s.
February 25, 2012
Fabulous. Goes deeply into epistemic questions of how God differentiates due to institutionalized racism.
January 9, 2026
My professor asked me to read this book to get my opinion on some things. See if he could use it for his class. I wish I could give this book to everyone in the south. The entire Bible Belt could use this book tbmfh. He knew every angle his claim would be attacked from and picked apart each counter argument or theodicy with incredible detail. I think this would be a great book for anyone on the fence about their Christianity. I like to nerd out on religion, so I quite enjoyed this. Growing up Christian I had a million questions, many he would ask in this book, that never got directly answered. I never grew out of questioning things but I sure as hell did grow out of Christianity.
October 29, 2025
Loved this so much. A great critical account of theodicy in light of racism in the US
Read
June 25, 2026*Partially read
August 24, 2008
the thing is, i think i actually agree with this book, but the writing is so dryly academic and the path to get to the point that i think i agree with is so entirely the opposite of how i understand god, that the whole thing was a pretty disappointing experience.
Displaying 1 - 8 of 8 reviews