Confessions of a Recovering Racist

In the last month I’ve listened to two sermons where the minister said, “I’m a recovering racist.”

The words were followed by an almost palpable, collective intake of breath. A small shock charge seemed to run through the congregation. I felt it in myself—a slight internal cringing. Should you be saying that? Here? In South Africa? In 2017? Two white ministers. One nearing retirement. One a young father. Both confessing a struggle with racism. Continue reading