“How curiously different is this white God from the one preached by Jesus who understood faithfulness by how we treat the hungry and thirsty, the naked and alien, the incarcerated and infirm. This white God of empire may be appropriate for global conquerors who benefit from all that has been stolen and through the labor of all those defined as inferior; but such a deity can never be the God of the conquered.” Echoing James Cone’s 1970 assertion that white Christianity is a satanic heresy, Miguel De La Torre argues that whiteness has desecrated the message of Jesus. In a scathing indictment, he describes how white American Christians have aligned themselves with the oppressors who subjugate the “least of these”—those who have been systemically marginalized because of their race, ethnicity, and socioeconomic status—and, in overwhelming numbers, elected and supported an antichrist as president who has brought the bigotry ingrained in American society out into the open. With this follow-up to his earlier Burying White Privilege , De La Torre prophetically outlines how we need to decolonize Christianity and reclaim its revolutionary, badass message. Timid white liberalism is not the answer for De La Torre—only another form of complicity. Working from the parable of the sheep and the goats in the Gospel of Matthew, he calls for unapologetic solidarity with the sheep and an unequivocal rejection of the false, idolatrous Christianity of whiteness.
De La Torre received a Masters in Divinity from Southern Baptist Theological Seminary, and a doctorate from Temple University in social ethics. The focus of his academic pursuit has been ethics within contemporary U.S. thought, specifically how religion affects race, class, and gender oppression. He specializes in applying a social scientific approach to Latino/a religiosity within this country, Liberation theologies in Latin America, and postmodern/postcolonial social theory.
De La Torre currently servers as the Professor of Social Ethics and Latino/a Studies at Iliff School of Theology in Denver, Colorado.
I will confess upfront that Miguel De La Torre's latest book made me uncomfortable. He doesn't hold back on his critique (that is to put it nicely) of white Christianity. As a white male straight cisgender Christian, that critique likely includes me. It's a message that pushes buttons, even if true. Nevertheless, De La Torre isn't really speaking to me. Oh, he knows I'm listening in, but he's having a conversation with other Christians of color. He's inviting them to speak their minds, and not hold back.
I didn't read his earlier book Burying White Privilege: Resurrecting a Badass Christianity, which apparently received mixed reviews. Some readers appreciated the candor, but others pushed back, even demonizing the author. As I said, I didn't read it so, I can't speak to its contents. I did read this book, which is intended as a response to the critique. Again he doesn't hold back on holding the feet of white supremacy to the fire. Now, De La Torre knows white Christians are not monolithic, but that's not the point. By painting in broad strokes he is able to make clear the concerns/complaints of persons of Color who have suffered under white supremacy. He doesn't feel any compulsion to let us off the hook or offer us a solution. That's for us to discover. Thus, what we have here is a strongly worded prophetic statement calling for Christians of color to decolonize their minds, that is, be set free from the message drummed into them by white supremacist Christianity.
Written in late spring of 2020 when COVID was in its early stages -- little did he know that heading into 2022 the pandemic shows no signs of going away. It was also early in the election season, so he didn't know whether Donald Trump would win reelection or whether a Democrat would win (and who that Democrat might be). But Trumpism is at the center of the conversation. The fact is, an overwhelming number of white Christians, even mainline Christians, voted for Trump. We're still living with the aftermath as he won't go away, and white Christianity continues to degenerate as a result.
Having laid out why he wrote the book in answer to his critics, he writes in chapter 2 about "the day of judgment." Here he calls white Christianity to account. He essentially takes to court a white Christianity that helped erect and undergird a system in which white Christianity is deemed superior to all others, leading to oppression of those who are not white. Part of this conversation deals with the fear among white Christians that they are losing power and even heading toward becoming a minority. Thus, Trump is seen as a hedge against this threat symbolized by the election and reelection of a black President.
We move from laying out the charges against white supremacist Christianity that is epitomized by Donald Trump, to questions about the relationship of white Christians, especially white liberals, with those who are marginalized. He explores biblical texts dealing with the "least of these" and proposed solutions, including "color-blindness."
This leads to a more apocalyptic conversation. That concerns the future and how we deal with the fear and hatred running rampant in the nation. How can healing come when we ignore the realities of our day. Thus, "the tenets of nationalist Christianity need to be slain." The form this has taken is embodied by the proclamation that Donald Trump is a modern-day King Cyrus, anointed by God, to defend and liberate oppressed white Christians. He notes that the reason Christians have hailed him as King Cyrus is that this gives them the rationale to overlook Trump's lack of Christian virtues. While De La Torre does not believe that a literal AntiChrist is set to emerge as many apocalypticists would suggest, signaling the end of days, Donald Trump does fit with the description of the antichrist found in Revelation 13:1-10. I must say, this section was fascinating, and an important use of this imagery. There is a word of hope for us, however.
De La Torre concludes the book with a chapter titled "Badass Prophets." He makes use of Jonah as the protagonist. While many of us have used this book to signal a move away from ethnocentric religion due to God's forgiveness of the Assyrians, De La Torre takes the image in a very different direction. While many of us have envisioned Jonah's sullen reaction negatively, De La Torre suggests that Jonah has a point. He suggests that "Jonah's God demands that the disinherited go to the very thieves who stole their basic human rights and dignity to tell them they should seek out salvation." (p. 160). Shouldn't there be justice along the way? Should these folks who will conquer their own people be required to not just repent by changing their way of living in the world. In other words, Jonah is right in not being ready for reconciliation just yet. So, work must be done, and De La Torre isn't ready to let us off the hook (by us I mean white Christians, including me). Though he holds the feet of white Christians to the fire, he acknowledges that while he might be a person of color, he is also male, cisgender, and straight. Thus, he has his own realities to deal with. The question is, how will respond, for we are at crossroads. That is the question.
As I said, the book left me uncomfortable. But then that was the purpose.
The target audience for this book is not white readers. Those of us who are white need to read, listen, digest, and be held accountable for our silence, our complacency, and our calls for nonviolence that often squash those who are receiving violence regardless of their response.
This is a bold book calling for a dismantling of the structures in place in our system. It is a hard-fought resistance to white supremacy. The author admits in the end he has little hope that things can change. "The future is indeed bleak."
White Christians want books that lead to actions and solutions that will prove change is possible. This book turns that back on white Christians. White Christians are going to need to tear down the systems of oppression completely, and the reality is we won't do it because we won't give up power. This book is intended for nonwhite Christians to find ways of decolonizing their own beliefs and lives. White Christians reading this can learn how they are complicit and be challenged to do the hard work.
Miguel De La Torre prolific and insightful liberation theologian, but this is not his best work. Written near the end of the first Trump presidency in 2020 but before the outcome of that year's presidential election, which Biden won, this book is against the white supremacy of the Trump administration and the rise of Christian nationalism. Despite being written before Trump was re-elected in 2024, de la Torre has great insights into the nature of the current Trump presidency. While the title is "Decolonizing Christianity", it is actually a rant against Trump and his support by Christian nationalists. At times, his writing gets very crass, and his call to act against Trump and Christian nationalism falls short of any concrete actions to take; he just offers theoretical options. Despite his call for action, he ends the book with a confession of hopelessness. In that sense the book is an honest confession, but not particularly helpful for those who are oppressed or those who would like to stand with them and fight the oppression that is happening.
I didn’t have to read much of this to recognize that it was GARBAGE!
There is nothing Christian in this text. It is purely political and racist propaganda. It is a shame to think any God fearing Christian might take this as guidance for their faith.
I found this to be a very interesting book. The last chapter alone is worth the price of the book. Very powerful, indeed.
“The first act of any liberationist project must be to decolonize our own minds, which have been conditioned to see reality through the lens of the oppressors. Raising one’s consciousness, contributes to the decolonization of one’s mind, hence, the importance of books like this one.“ (p. 189).