Silence Is Complicity: A United Methodist Response to Trump’s Call to Revive Racist Mascots

Opinion

by

Perspectives

Special to United Methodist Insight | July 24, 2025

In 2020, we celebrated a long-overdue victory for Indian Country. After decades of tireless advocacy by Native peoples and allies, the Washington NFL team retired its deeply offensive and racist name. It was a watershed moment—a glimpse of what justice, dignity, and truth can look like. But now, in 2025, we find ourselves once again confronting harmful rhetoric and revisionist attempts to bring back those names under the guise of nostalgia and “tradition.” The recent effort by President Donald Trump to bring back the former names of the Washington football and Cleveland baseball teams is more than political — it is a reawakening of racism and trauma for Native Americans.

As United Methodists, we are called to do better. Our faith requires us not only to walk humbly with our God but also to act justly and to love mercy (Micah 6:8). This moment demands our attention, our voice, and our witness.

The use of Native American imagery and names as mascots has always been about power—not honor. These mascots reduce living, breathing cultures and sacred identities to caricatures.

Some may ask, "Why does it matter?" It matters because our children are watching. In 2013, the Oneida Nation commissioned a study showing that Native youth who are exposed to these stereotypical images experience a decline in self-esteem, in their sense of community, and in their belief in their own potential. These images cause real psychological harm. And for non-Native audiences, they reinforce damaging assumptions and biases. When the church is silent, it becomes complicit.

The United Methodist Church once recognized this truth. For years, our Book of Resolutions stated clearly that no churchwide meetings should be held in cities that use offensive Native mascots in professional sports. That resolution reflected a desire to stand with Indigenous peoples against a tide of misrepresentation and harm. While that language was removed in the 2016 edition, the intent behind it must still guide us.

We also passed a resolution at the 2012 General Conference mandating us to be in “Healing

Relationships with Indigenous Persons.” This resolution recognizes the need to “turn away from patterns of paternalism, cultural misunderstanding, and historical violence” and calls our Church to enter into intentional relationships of respect, listening, and accountability with Indigenous communities. This commitment is not symbolic—it is a sacred covenant rooted in repentance and repair.

In alignment with this commitment, Book of Resolutions ¶ 4262 declares:

“Therefore, be it resolved through this action of the General Conference, The United Methodist Church calls upon all general agencies and related organizations to be intentional about raising awareness of the harm caused by some sports teams through the use of mascots and/or

symbols promoting expressions of racism and disrespect of Native American people.”

(Adopted 2016, Readopted 2024)

Indigenous folks understand that there is no “me” or “singular” in what we do in this world.When  decisions are made in tribal communities, it is for the good of all people. While the dominant society might say, “look out for number one,” our communities look out for the good of all.

Throughout history, decisions with Indigenous tribes have been made with the entire

community in mind. There is not a “oneness” but rather a concern for all of the people and humanity. Even in the modern context, there is a responsibility to care for all people—inside and outside of the tribe, village, or nation. It is the concept that we are all in this together; that includes how we care for one another, look out for others’ needs, take care of the environment, and look ahead to the future with all in mind.

The apostle Paul writes in Philippians 2:4, “Care about them as much as you care about yourselves,” and in verse 5, “think the same way that Christ Jesus thought.” Indigenous communities have long practiced this kind of collective care. The Church has something to learn here—not just about Native resistance to injustice, but about Indigenous ways of being that embody Christ’s love.

We cannot afford to be neutral now. What clearer example of public racial harm exists than the forced return of a racial slur to professional sports teams?

This is not just a political issue. This is a spiritual issue. The misuse of Native identities is part of a much larger story — a story of erasure, of colonization, and of broken treaties. If we are serious about healing relationships with Indigenous peoples, then we must also confront the historic and ongoing role of the church in these wounds.

I urge our local churches, annual conferences, and denominational leaders to:

  • Speak out publicly against the reintroduction of racist mascots and images, particularly when they impact professional sports teams.
  • Recommit to the spirit of our former resolution by avoiding national meetings in cities whose teams continue to use offensive mascots.
  • Support and amplify Native voices — especially youth — who are courageously telling their stories and standing for dignity.
  • Educate congregations about the real harm caused by mascots and the broader legacy of racism against Indigenous peoples.
  • Include Indigenous theology and history in church curricula and worship resources—not
  • as an afterthought but as part of the fullness of God’s creation.

What gives me hope is that more and more people — inside and outside the Church — are beginning to understand. We’ve seen schools, colleges, and even entire states take meaningful steps to remove racist mascots and dehumanizing imagery. The Cleveland baseball team retired its mascot “Chief Wahoo” in 2018. These may seem like small gestures to some, but to Native communities, they are powerful signs that change is possible when people listen, speak up, and act.

But this change cannot be left to others. It must include the Church. If we, as United Methodists, choose to remain silent in moments like this—when our Indigenous brothers and sisters are being mocked, commodified, and erased—then our silence becomes complicity. The gospel calls us not to comfort, but to courage. Not to neutrality, but to justice.

We cannot change the past, but we can decide what kind of Church we will be today. Will we be one that quietly allows harm to be done, or one that boldly lives out Christ’s love by standing with the marginalized? Let us be clear in both word and witness: the dignity of Native peoples is not up for debate. In this moment, may we choose to be a Church that speaks truth, acts with compassion, and refuses to be silent in the face of injustice. That is how healing begins.

Bishop David Wilson is episcopal leader of the Great Plains Area of The United Methodist Church, encompassing Kansas and Nebraska.