Early in my career as a full-time minister, there were two kind, older men who worked as ministry leaders at the church. Shortly after I was hired, they came to the conclusion that I was one of the administrative assistants. When they had trouble with the copier, they came and asked me for help. When they needed to send a letter, they handed it to me to run through the postage machine. And when they needed a pitcher of water for a meeting, they let me know the time of the meeting and how many people would be attending.

They were well-intentioned, goodhearted people, but they were functioning out of a faulty assumption. Their behavior was a result of their unconscious/implicit bias. In other words, they believed that because I am female, the only role for which the church could hire me was that of administrative assistant. And their bias influenced the way they were able to see me and interact with me for the entire time I worked with them. Yes, I made light of it to my coworkers, but truthfully, I did so because humor was my coping mechanism. Humor helped me superficially lessen the impact. Or at least I believed it did.

Fast forward to the present, and the effects of that sort of unintended marginalization are evident in all that I do. For example, I regularly doubt my capabilities and work under the assumption that I must prove myself. I respond with an excessive amount of gratefulness when afforded the same opportunities as my male counterparts. And I adjust how I interact with others in order to not be dismissed simply based on my gender.

But I, as a female, am not alone in this, because unconscious bias isn’t relegated solely to stereotypes based on gender. Bias and discrimination exist toward any social group and can be based on ethnicity, race, religion, sexual orientation, age, physical abilities, etc. As I wrote this article, I spoke with a number of colleagues who inhabit non-dominant cultures, and they repeated heartbreakingly similar experiences with many of the same far-reaching implications. Most of these conversations centered on race and gender, and in most instances, while the person on the receiving end of the bias could identify the intent as benign, it rarely lessened the impact. And the impact is what causes damage – systematically and repeatedly – amid our church families, making people feel inadequate and inferior as a result of unconscious bias. I feel certain in declaring that none of us want this for the body of Christ.

Three passages from Jesus’s ministry echo this conviction. I think about the passage in Matt. 19:13-15 where the children are brought to Jesus but the disciples rebuke them. The story in Luke 7:36-50 where the woman anoints Jesus’s feet and wipes them with her hair only to be criticized by the Pharisee hosting the gathering. And the act of healing performed on the man in John 9:1-12 whose blindness evoked a question of sinfulness from the disciples. In each of these examples, Jesus pushes back against the bias that surfaces. Jesus shows us what love and acceptance looks like. Jesus interacts with the typically-marginalized in affirming and empowering ways.

That is our example. That is who we are called to be.

But how do we do that? How do we be more like Jesus?

We do it by recognizing that it’s impossible to entirely escape unconscious bias. It is too deeply ingrained in our lives from a young age as a result of socialization processes that shape our attitudes and perspectives. However, we can work to counteract unconscious bias, which takes courage and intentionality. It doesn’t just happen. It requires repeated effort on our part, because it is in silence that bias survives.

Therefore, as we endeavor to correct unconscious bias and ultimately lean into what it means to be more Christlike, I want to invite you both personally and in your faith communities to consider the following three statements.

Acknowledge that you have unconscious bias. “Yes, it’s uncomfortable to be confronted with an aspect of ourselves that we don’t like, but we can’t change what we refuse to see.” [1] When challenged with this realization, resist responding defensively. We have to accept its presence and recognize it for what it is if any change is to occur, because as difficult as it is to admit, our assessments of others are never as objective as we believe them to be. Thus, one of the dangers of unconscious bias is that our unawareness of it means we are also unaware of the harmful ways we impact others.

Be mindful of your language. Consider what you say and how you say it. Examine not only the inclusive quality of your words but also the evaluative nature of them. For example, in the Scriptures referenced above, we often identify figures in the story with language that unconsciously conveys a sense of judgment – little children, sinful woman, and blind man. And while the stories are ultimately about the love and acceptance that Jesus has for each of those people or groups, our language can inadvertently communicate a “less-than” quality that becomes embedded as we tell the stories. Rev. Dr. Renita J. Weems states, “[We] must be made aware of [our] role and responsibility each time [we] literally, that is, unthinkingly/uncritically, pass these stories on to the next generation.” [2]

Hold yourself and others accountable. In her keynote address at ACU’s Summit, Dr. Thema Bryant-Davis said, “Silence does not equal solutions. And so you have to be willing to go into the difficult dialogues to make things better for everybody.” [3] As we work toward lessening the impact of unconscious bias on both individuals and our faith communities, we must not shy away from the tough conversations that require each of us to take a comprehensive look at our function and complicity within the system – whether conscious or unconscious. A female minister relayed the following experience to me. After building up the courage to enter into a hard conversation of accountability with a male ministry coworker regarding the impact of his unconscious bias, his response was, “Yes, but… .” Yes, but that’s not what I meant. Yes, but you are being too sensitive. Yes, but it really isn’t that big of a deal. He did not have eyes to see and ears to hear (Matt. 13:9-16). He wasn’t ready to consider the impact of his actions, because he had never been asked to. Accountability means intentionally creating an environment where these types of conversations become the norm and not the exception.

How do we do better? By acknowledging that we must do better. By owning up to the fact that we play a part within a broken system. By recognizing that the only way to make a change is to be intentional about it. And we do so for the sake of the kingdom, to be God-honoring in all of what we do and all of who we are.

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[1] Robin DiAngelo, White Fragility: Why It’s So Hard for White People to Talk about Racism (Boston: Beacon Press, 2018), 42.

[2] Renita J. Weems, “Re-Reading for Liberation: African American Women and the Bible,” in Womanist Theological Ethics: A Reader, eds. Katie Geneva Cannon, Emilie M. Townes, and Angela D. Sims (Louisville: Westminster John Knox Press, 2011), 61.

[3] Thema Bryant-Davis, “From Bondage to Appreciation” (ACU Summit, Abilene Christian University, Abilene, TX, 19 September, 2017).