Microaggressions are pervasive in some churches; white savior behaviors, too
Photo: Gerald Farinas.
Rev. Michael Ware of North Shore Baptist Church at Edgewater Presbyterian Church for the Edgewater Community Religious Association Juneteenth commemoration. Photo: Gerald Farinas.
When I first moved to Chicago from my slow-paced islander life on Oahu, I encountered some very uncomfortable comments from people who saw me as one of the most exotic things they’ve ever met.
I cringed when I first heard, “You speak so well” or “You’re very articulate.”
What’s that supposed to mean?
There were also the times people gave me unsolicited advice like, “It gets cold here. You might want to buy a heavy coat.”
Well, duh!
A microaggression is a small, subtle comment or action that—intentionally or not—hurts someone who is part of a marginalized group.
Yes. It hurts.
It can sound like a compliment.
It can come off as a joke.
But at its core, it carries an insult, an assumption, or a bias that reinforces harmful stereotypes.
These comments are called “micro” not because they’re tiny or harmless, but because they often go unnoticed or dismissed.
But for those who hear them over and over again—people of color, LGBTQ folks, immigrants, people with disabilities, atheists—they add up.
They wound.
They isolate.
And when they come from inside the church, they can push people away from Christ.
Microaggressions in church spaces
Churches are supposed to be places of love, welcome, and healing.
But sometimes they become places where microaggressions happen the most—especially when people hide behind what sounds like religious language to excuse their biases.
Here are some real examples:
“You’re so articulate!”
Like I said, I get this one every so often.
Said to a Black or Brown person, this implies surprise. It assumes they wouldn’t be well-spoken.
It’s not a compliment. It’s a subtle insult rooted in racism.
“Please stand … as you are able.”
There are many in the community who don’t like language that remind people that they are disabled or not normal than others.
I had to learn this the hard way. I was lectured not once but twice on it on separate occasions.
I follow several people who are hurt when the presider says, “Please stand”—when they have to use a walker or wheelchair to go to church.
I asked them, “What’s a better phrase?”
“Please rise in body or spirit” or variations on that seem to be the most common alternatives.
“You’re too pretty to be gay!”
I’ve actually heard this one told to a friend of mine. She looked at me with shock.
This suggests that being LGBTQ is something ugly or abnormal. That’s not love. That’s judgment dressed up as a joke.
“We don’t see color here.”
It sounds nice, but when it’s said it denies people’s lived experiences.
Friends of mine in our local NAACP at Loyola say it makes it sound like a sheet is thrown over the racism that does exist in everyday life—and it becomes understood as, “We don’t acknowledge racism, even when it happens.”
“Hate the sin, love the sinner.”
Often said to gay people, this phrase sounds pious but is cruel.
It singles people out and defines them only by one part of their identity. It’s not about love—it’s about control.
“You’re so strong for going through all that.”
This is often said to people of color or immigrants in reference to poverty, violence, or discrimination.
But it can come off like the speaker sees suffering as something to admire rather than work to change.
The white savior problem
Microaggressions also appear in the white savior mindset—when Christians portray themselves as the heroes coming to rescue people of color, especially in mission work or service projects.
Examples might include:
Taking pictures with “poor children” during mission trips and posting them online with captions like, “We gave them hope today.”
This is common among some larger Evangelical churches and use it in advertisements—in print and on television. Or on countless social media posts.
Saying, “They have nothing, but they were so happy!”—which turns people’s suffering into a feel-good story for outsiders is another instance.
Assuming that Western ways of worship, leadership, or theology are automatically better than indigenous or cultural traditions, is also cringy.
This is not humility.
This is not service.
This is a form of spiritual colonization.
Yes, go on mission trips! Yes, go to communities near home that uplift.
But don’t use language that casts the image of swooping in and saving people as if they couldn’t do it on their own.
Don’t use the experience as advertisement in the context of saving people.
Do mission trips for the sake of doing God’s work—no advertisements of “rescuing people” needed.
Why this is not Christian
Jesus didn’t tell us to tolerate people while secretly looking down on them.
He didn’t tell us to disguise judgment as kindness.
He didn’t say “love the sinner, hate the sin.”
That’s not a quote from Scripture!
Instead, Jesus said:
“Do not judge, so that you may not be judged” (Matthew 7:1, NRSVue).
“Love your neighbor as yourself” (Mark 12:31, NRSVue).
“Whatever you did for the least of these… you did for me” (Matthew 25:40, NRSVue).
True Christian love means listening, not labeling.
It means honoring people’s full identities, not trying to fix or erase them.
It means standing against racism, homophobia, and every other form of injustice—not pretending those problems don’t exist.
A call to reflect
If you’ve ever said something you now realize was a microaggression, you’re not alone.
We all make mistakes. Even me—who catches microaggressions toward me.
But being Christian means repenting, learning, and doing better.
It means building a church where all people—not just the ones who look, love, or believe like us—are fully welcomed and fully seen.
So let’s stop hiding behind “good intentions.”
Let’s be real.
Let’s be loving.
Let’s be more like Jesus.
Because if the Church isn’t a place where people can breathe freely, then it’s not a house of God.
It’s just another place where the world tells them they don’t belong.
And that’s not holy.
That’s harmful.
