Why truth, justice, and repentance matter more than religious performance
During a recent rededication service, part of the Speaker of the House’s public prayer raised alarm when it condemned so-called “sinister ideologies” connected to teaching America’s history of slavery and violence. To many listeners—especially those who understand the long struggle for civil rights—that language did not sound like truth-telling. It sounded like yet another attempt to soften, spiritualize, and whitewash a brutal history that should never be minimized, denied, or dressed up in religious language.
Let me say this plain: you cannot cover bloodstained history with polished prayers and expect heaven to call it holy (Isaiah 1:13–17). You cannot dress up cruelty in church clothes, lift your hands, bow your head, and think God has forgotten what was done (Matthew 23:23–28). God is not ignorant. God is not blind. God is not confused by ceremony. He sees what people tried to hide, because nothing hidden stays hidden before Him (Ecclesiastes 12:14; Numbers 32:23). He knows what people tried to rename. And He still calls wrong, wrong.
Slavery was not a misunderstanding. Segregation was not a custom to be admired. The crushing of Black dignity was not tradition worth defending. It was sin. It was theft. It was violence wrapped in law, humiliation wrapped in policy, hatred wrapped in respectability. For generations, Black people were beaten down, shut out, talked down to, prayed over, and still denied justice. And Scripture is clear: do not pervert justice, do not oppress, do not follow the crowd in doing wrong (Exodus 23:2, 6, 9; Deuteronomy 16:19). No prayer that refuses the truth can wash that stain away. No public performance of faith can erase chains, lashes, lynchings, closed doors, stolen chances, and stolen years. The God of heaven hears the desire of the afflicted and strengthens the hearts of the oppressed (Psalm 10:17–18), and He calls His people to speak up for those whose voices were pushed aside (Proverbs 31:8–9).
Because the God of Scripture does not bless hypocrisy (Isaiah 1:13–17; Matthew 23:23–28). He tells us to seek justice, defend the oppressed, and walk humbly (Isaiah 1:17; Micah 6:8). He does not ask us to rewrite evil. He does not ask us to baptize oppression in religious language. He does not ask us to make peace with lies. He asks for truth (John 8:32). He asks for repentance. He asks for justice that rolls deeper than performance and mercy that moves beyond words (Amos 5:24; Proverbs 31:8–9). He asks for the kind of faith that cares for the wounded and refuses empty religion (James 1:27). So if we are going to pray, then let us pray honestly. Let us confess what was done. Let us stop whitewashing what broke people. Let us tell the truth without flinching. Let that truth become the beginning of healing, the beginning of repair, and the beginning of a faith that actually looks like God.
And what troubles me most, as a minister of the gospel, is how deeply we have misunderstood the nature of God—His principles, His precepts, and His ways. Our God is not casual about truth. He is not neutral about justice. He is righteous in all His ways and just in all His judgments (Psalm 145:17; Deuteronomy 32:4). He does not bend truth to protect our comfort, and no amount of sugarcoating history will ever change what God has already called true. He is holy. He is just. He is not moved by revision, silence, or selective memory. So I say to the church and society: stop making peace with a false version of the past. Stop calling polished denial discernment. Stop confusing ceremony with repentance. Stand where God stands—in truth, in righteousness, and in justice. Tell the truth about what was done. Tell the truth about who was wounded. Tell the truth about what God requires. And if we are going to call on His name, then let us do it with clean hands, honest lips, and hearts fully surrendered to the truth.
Minister A Francine Green I May 2026