Good Historians

I'm grateful for historians.
At least a certain kind.

Not the David Barton kind, who manufacture
history to suit a darker purpose.

Usually a conservative purpose.
To serve White Interests.
And evangelical priorities.
The rich and the powerful.

Sure, all historians write from a perspective.
They bring themselves to the table.
Their values and dreams.
Their DNA and childhood hobbies.

But there's a difference, sometimes slight.
A difference, nonetheless.

I think it has to do with fundamental honesty.
Good historians acknowledge the darker elements.
The ugly stuff that most of us would rather not know.

Honesty, to uncover the unconscionable.
But as well to reveal the best.

To read the primary sources.
To dig deep and think it through.

Honoring the mystery of the better angels who hang around.
Seeing justice and mercy in the ebb and flow of our days.
Celebrating, or lamenting, that we humans make choices.
And sometimes, lo and behold, make good choices.

Choices that reflect justice and mercy.
When nations sometimes rise above self-interest.
And make the hard choices to promote the best.

Good historians:
See the evils of white supremacy, and racial pride of any kind.
The narrowness of so much religious posturing, and all
The blather that radiates from the super pious.
The lies we tell to cover the fault.
And the faults we lionize because we think they're great.

Good historians are not likely to be praised by the self-interested.

Good historians are not likely to be read by those who choose ignorance.

Good historians will not make it on the megachurch market.

Good historians won't be hired by Liberty University.

I'm grateful for good historians.
We might call them nerds, and they smile.

They bury themselves in libraries with dusty documents.
They read voluminously.
They love books.
They think deeply (which is a form of prayer).
They love the truth, whatever it is.

And of such things, God is pleased.