Theology doesn't happen in a bubble. It's marked by the real world.

This is because God isn't entirely distant. God is beyond us, but God has chosen to dwell among us. God is intimately near. Definitively, God has shown us this through the life, death and resurrection of Jesus Christ.

This nearness of God means that God takes the world of humankind seriously. It means that God is concerned with the brokenness and suffering that is caused by sin, both past and present. The God of Jesus Christ is concerned with context.

And each context has its own particular virtues and its own embedded sinfulness. These don't drop down from the sky but are part and parcel with the history of a specific place, time and culture, fostered by the decisions that real people make.

Obviously, this applies to our context here in the United States. For in our history we find progress and triumph as well as the original sins that went along with them. And as the two-year anniversary of Hurricane Katrina reminds us, one of those sins is racism.

Racism, as defined for this column, is the reality and consequences of oppression and dehumanization of blacks by whites. Now, who exactly is "white" has evolved over time. Originally it was Northern European Protestants but later evolved to include other ethnic groups such as the Polish, Irish, Italians and also Euro-Roman Catholics and others.

As the meaning of "white" has changed, however, it hasn't been much of a question about who in the United States is "black": descendants of the various African peoples who were enslaved. And the term "people of color" has attempted to broaden this to include all colonized peoples now living in the United States who have been a target of white racism — Native Americans, Latinos, Asians, Pacific Islanders and African immigrants.

To say the least, the problem of racism in our nation is complicated. People of all races and ethnic backgrounds have a variety of differing experiences and opinions on this issue. Even within the same racial or ethnic group, people tend to argue a number of differing thoughts on the reality of this problem and the solution to it.

So as a white ethnic in an interracial marriage, I know that I am entering a heated debate. And I can only scratch the surface in this column. Especially since I am far from an expert on the subject. And also since I see myself as a beneficiary of white privilege. Which doesn't mean that I haven't worked for what I have achieved. But it does mean that there were unseen boosts up the ladder that I have received that someone else who is black or brown may not have. That's a tough pill to swallow. But it's reality.

From my chair, I see that racism isn't only explicitly hating and persecuting based on skin color. As awful as they are, those horrors are the red flags for the racism that's already present. This kind of racism isn't just dramatic immoral action but is just as much the subtle, structural sin embedded in the culture among us. It's the values of a fallen world that shaped us before we had much of a choice in the matter.

This is similar to how, in the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus pinpointed the origin of the evil not in the action itself but in the prior condition of our hearts. Before someone commits evil, he or she first must have fallen into serving evil with his or her heart and soul in small ways. Maybe we don't even recognize this because we naturally adopt what's in our cultures. But these everyday small decisions and preferences adopted by thousands have a human cost.

We all have difficulty in speaking about the sin of American racism. And I'm no different. But as theologian James Cone has pointed out, white racism is thetheological problem in the United States, and thus we must grapple with it.

Now that's hard to take. And many of us may not agree with it. But the point is to get us all thinking about this problem realistically. That means naming it as sin, locating it in ourselves, our communities and churches, and working through the God of Jesus Christ to eradicate this scourge from our midst.

Yes, I do realize that other places have racism and sin. I also realize that the majority of Americans are good people with great virtue who work hard to live decent lives. And yes, I realize that there is a great diversity of sin in the United States — just look at our culture which idolizes antagonism to human life, consumerism, sexism, materialism and sexual exploitation.

Also, I realize that the racial paradigm in the United States has changed. With the rise of the new immigrants, not to mention the exponential rise in mixed-race and multiethnic individuals and families, speaking about oppression only in terms of race is flawed. Race certainly is a major component. But oppression also includes other things like class and gender — because money is power and women often are among the poorest and the most disempowered.

But the hard truth is that race still matters. For we as a nation still make each other suffer for this sin. If you don't believe me, take a look at the news about the continued aftermath of Hurricane Katrina, the troubling events in the schools of Jena, Louisiana, or on racial justice here in Chicago.

This sin is all too real. And that's why the God of Jesus Christ, who yearns to dwell among us, demands that we deal with it. God will strengthen us and do justice. God will liberate, heal and reconcile. But God is expecting us to work, too. And that starts by naming and owning the sin of racism in our midst.

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Kevin Considine is a graduate student at Catholic Theological Union in Chicago. Recently he was married to a most wonderful woman who keeps him in line and reads his columns to see if they make sense. He and his wife live on the South Side of Chicago. He welcomes comments, feedback or fits of anger and can be reached at {email considkp@yahoo.com}considkp@yahoo.com{/email}. © Copyright 2007 by Kevin Considine.