Wrestling with the Legacy of Colonialism, Slavery, and Religious Empires
When I think about colonialism, slavery, and religious empires, I don’t see separate stories. Instead, they are overlapping systems of domination designed to disguise exploitation as human progress, faith, and nation-building. Their legacy is the trauma carried across generations: the removal of Native peoples in America, the transatlantic slave trade, South African colonization, and the Holocaust are examples whose scars remain deeply embedded in families and cultures today.
My understanding of this is personal and academic. I was born in Oklahoma, a land marked by tribal displacement of many nations, but my son carries Muscogee Creek ancestry. I grew up attending public schools that were nearly evenly split between Black and White students. I lived and worked in Mexican American neighborhoods in Austin, Texas, and spent hundreds of hours volunteering and working inside prisons across the U.S. In each place, I have witnessed generational pain and silencing, as well as the resilience of people who refused to be defined by suffering.
Recently, while in Cape Town, South Africa, I noticed these patterns repeated. The racial wealth gap was stark. Although apartheid ended in 1994, white South Africans still fare far better than their “colored, Indian, or Black neighbors” (the local terminology). Nelson Mandela and Desmond Tutu discerned that naming these realities was the first step in a long journey toward healing. In 1995, they formed a coalition to establish the Truth and Reconciliation Commission, which demonstrated that forgiveness and accountability are not mutually exclusive, but instead, are essential partners in building a unified future, with justice, mercy, and humility serving as the guiding lights.[1]
“What does the Lord require of you? To act justly and to love mercy and to walk humbly with your God.”[2]
A Wider View of Slavery
One of the most difficult truths to admit is that slavery isn’t only a Western or “White” evil, but a human one. It spans thousands of years, cultures, continents, and religions across the globe.[3] Africans sold other Africans. Muslims and Christians alike justified bondage. Even Native tribes in America owned slaves.[4]
This fact doesn’t minimize the horrors of the transatlantic slave trade; it magnifies the problem! Domination is a recurring human sin. The danger comes when we have a narrow view or consider only part of the story, vilifying certain groups of individuals while ignoring modern slavery hiding in plain sight.[5] I have heard of African refugees trafficked into pork farms in Oklahoma, Chinese workers hidden in marijuana grow farms, Latinos lured into agriculture, and young people forced in sex trafficking. However, as fallible humans, our cognitive biases and heuristics can distort our judgment.[6]
Truth is about telling the whole story. Equity means giving every person a fair start so that they can reach their full potential. Context is a critical factor in keeping us humble. Jesus said, “You will know the truth, and the truth will set you free.”[7]
Faith Used as a Weapon and as a Witness
Religion has been used as a weapon throughout history, which is commonly cited as a reason for individuals to disengage from it. Early missionary Christians believed they could “civilize savage people,”[8] justifying their actions through scriptures such as “an eye for an eye”. Islamic empires framed expansion as divinely mandated. Sadly, domination has always been conducted in the name of salvation.
These distortions run counter to the heart of Jesus. He said: “The Spirit of the Lord is upon me… He has sent me to proclaim good news to the poor… freedom for the oppressed.” Christ’s mission was always about liberation, never one of conquest.[9]
If Islamic conquests in Europe had fully succeeded, I believe Christianity likely would have only survived as a minority faith. The rise of the West would have looked much different or not happened at all. History is fragile. That harsh reality can be seen today in what is happening across the U.S. and Europe, where faith is being actively co-opted by power.
As leaders, the goal shouldn’t be to defend old empires but to recognize history with truth, humility, and theological integrity.[10] We should acknowledge the harm that has been committed in God’s name, listen to the voices who have been disregarded, and walk toward reconciliation.
Holding Wounds and Legacies for Truth and Healing
Colonialism left deep wounds salted by displacement, slavery, and cultural whitewashing. However, these legacies are complex. Despite the hardships they created, the systems and infrastructure that we enjoy today around the world, such as schools, medicine, and basic utilities, were often developed through exploitation. It is both fair and historically accurate to recognize the positive contributions, while at the same time refusing to excuse the terrible brutality that accompanied them.
Simple narratives do not work. We can’t romanticize empire, nor can we erase the resilience of those who built thriving communities in its wake. Leading with integrity means making space to hold multiple perspectives, especially those that have been traditionally excluded. It means telling the whole story with humility.
Paul’s words in Romans come to mind: “Do not be overcome by evil but overcome evil with good.”[11]
Where I Stand Now
After reflecting on years of experiences and recent time spent in South Africa, I firmly believe the chapter has not closed on the legacy of colonialism, slavery, and religious empires. Change never ends because humans around the world never stop evolving. This truth will continue to shape identity, opportunity, and faith. While these systems produced resilience, their tragic wounds remain.
My perspective has shifted from viewing systems of domination as “their” histories to recognizing them as our shared story of humanity, which deserves honesty, humility, and accountability so that reconciliation can be achieved. For Christian leaders, it is incumbent upon us to listen before we speak, grieve before we protect, and lead with integrity, not just easy answers.
Faith leaders especially should resist the temptation to sanitize or weaponize history. Christ calls us to hold complexity and courage together as we seek truth and healing, and to steward power with justice. Colonialism is still unfolding right before our eyes, but so is redemption. As Mandela and Tutu taught, the future belongs not to those who deny the wounds of the past, but to those brave enough to name them and hopeful enough to believe reconciliation is possible.[12]
[1] Tutu, Mpho A., and Allister Haddon Sparks, eds. Tutu: The Authorised Portrait. Johannesburg: Pan Macmillan South Africa [u.a.], 2011.
[2] “Bible Gateway Passage: Micah 6:8 – English Standard Version.” Bible Gateway. Accessed October 2, 2025. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Micah%206%3A8&version=ESV.
[3] Biggar, Nigel. Colonialism: A Moral Reckoning. London: William Collins, 2023.
[4] Baucham, Voddie T. Fault Lines: The Social Justice Movement and Evangelicalism’s Looming Catastrophe. First trade paperback edition. Washington, D.C.: Salem Books, 2022.
[5] Niebuhr, Reinhold. Moral Man and Immoral Society: A Study in Ethics and Politics. Victoria, BC: Must Have Books, 2021.
[6] Kahneman, Daniel. Thinking, Fast and Slow. 1st pbk. ed. New York: Farrar, Straus and Giroux, 2013.
[7] “Bible Gateway Passage: John 8:32 – English Standard Version.” Bible Gateway. Accessed October 2, 2025. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=John%208%3A32&version=ESV.
[8] “Report of a Mission to the Ottahwahs and Ojibwas on Lake Huron, by F. O’Meara (1846).” Accessed October 2, 2025. https://anglicanhistory.org/indigenous/omeara_report1846.html?utm_source=chatgpt.com.
[9] https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Luke%204%3A18&version=ESV
[10] Biggar, Nigel. Colonialism: A Moral Reckoning. London: William Collins, 2023.
[11] “Bible Gateway Passage: Romans 12:21 – English Standard Version.” Bible Gateway. Accessed October 2, 2025. https://www.biblegateway.com/passage/?search=Romans%2012%3A21&version=ESV.
[12] Tutu, Desmond. No Future without Forgiveness. Nachdr. An image book. New York: Doubleday, 2000.
About the Author
Jennifer Eckert
Operations and fundraising director, people connector, believer in second chances, fights poverty, supports justice reform, lives a life integrated with Matthew 25.6 responses to “Wrestling with the Legacy of Colonialism, Slavery, and Religious Empires”
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Jen!! You’ve lived and worked in communities marked by both racial tension and resilience, from Austin’s Mexican-American neighbourhoods to U.S. prisons. Which experience most transformed your understanding of human dignity and hope?
Thank you, brother, for the question. Probably much like your experience, my understanding of human dignity and hope is the result of a string of experiences over time. But a consistent truth I have found is that those we typically consider the “least of these” should often be viewed as the “most of these.”
People with minimal means who have welcomed me into their homes (some with dirt floors) made such a tremendous impact. They had very little to give, but they gladly offered what they had. Beyond the material things, there was a peace about their souls that showed me that less is really more.
Hi Jennifer,
Thank you for sharing your personal experience.
I ask this with genuine curiosity and respect: As someone who identifies as white and of Caucasian heritage (I think), do you find it challenging to reconcile with the historical legacy of colonialism, slavery, and the imposition of Christianity on non-Christian communities?
Thank you, Shela. There have been seasons in my life that I would have said yes. However, considering the learning opportunities provided by this program, my answer today is no. Make no mistake about it; slavery, colonialism, oppression – it’s all horrific. I wouldn’t wish it on anyone ever! I am also aware of the persistent nature of modern-day dominion and the harm it creates and lasts for generations.
For transgressions in the past, rather than feeling guilt, I choose to focus on human resilience. Some of the strongest people I know have been shaped in the most difficult circumstances. I find that I get a lot of personal strength from people who are “thrivers” (they are more than survivors).
Dr. Eckert,
Thank you for the way you engaged with such a difficult and deeply human subject. I’m curious—what spiritual or reflective practices help you wrestle with this kind of moral complexity? And how do you find rest or renewal when engaging stories of profound suffering or encountering those who have lived through such histories?
Ha! Thank you for that kind salutation, Dr. Burns. The way I try to navigate moral complexity is by leaning in rather than looking away, which I tend to think would occur out of fear.
When I hear stories of suffering or injustice, I become curious and want to learn more. I study history, and I love listening to lived experiences. Hearing someone share their personal testimony is healing, but I honor the fact that people are at different places in their reconciliation journey. The more I listen and learn, the more I realize that complexity itself can be a teacher.
Still, I am in awe at how God uses tragedies and pain for good. It becomes a way that we can walk alongside one another to truly grow stronger together.