For September’s Christ and the Christian entry, I wanted to tackle The Blind Side. Since the movie opened and Sandra Bullock won her Oscar, the movie and book on which it’s based have undergone a revisionist reckoning, no doubt spurred by the Black Lives Matter disruptions of 2020. I would rather write about the depiction of Christian faith and evangelical culture rather than race relations. But I realize the two are intertwined. Better to address the black-white divide in a separate essay. So here it is.

In The Blind Side, Leigh Ann Tuohy is one of those always-put-together supermoms. Her husband is wealthy and highly successful. Her children attend a pricey private school and are upbeat and compliant. As played by Sandra Bullock (and no doubt as Tuohy is in real life), Leigh Ann is a specific type: white, suburban, affluent, confident. This type is ubiquitous in the South. They are real. They run a lot of things. And apparently they create a lot of problems for some people. In 2023, NPR’s Aisha Harris wrote the movie “allows white people like the Tuohy family to simultaneously pity Black people while unwittingly reinforcing the structures that encourage their pity.” Robin DiAngelo predictably hated the movie. Other critics found the “white savior” narrative annoying.

I admit I was one of those people. Watching The Blind Side, I felt a twinge of discomfort, even though I knew the story was a true one. I also knew the alternative to helping Michael Oher was not helping. This is the problem presented here—is it better to help a fellow human being and be a “white savior” or is it better to let a homeless teenager have his dignity and suffer alone? I felt discomfort because I get the “white savior” problem (even though I’m not white). But it seems to be a cul-de-sac. When a black character in a movie saves a white character, then we’re in “magical Negro” territory. Of course, if the black character is just a means to an end, that is a failure of both humanity and good screenwriting. But I don’t think The Blind Side suffers from that. Quinton Aaron as Michael Oher holds his own against Bullock. That Oher is poor and raised by a crack addict mother is not in dispute. That some among us don’t like it, that we wish he didn’t need rescuing—that’s a whole other issue.

So I got over my unease with Leigh Ann Touhy and enjoyed the movie. As I mentioned, she is of a type, and I know many of these supermoms. They are “privileged” and “entitled,” which is what allows Leigh Ann to march down to the ghetto to bring Michael Oher back to her sprawling mini-mansion. Discomfort with her confidence is perhaps envy that she has such privilege, and envy never has a good end. Wealthy Christians should use their treasure and station for mercy. Milton Hershey opened numerous homes for orphans. Millard Fuller used his millions to start Habitat for Humanity. In Acts, we read of the charity of Lydia and Barnabas, two early Christians who had considerable wealth. However, if you rail at the fact these people have more than you—more money and more self-assurance—that is not really a valid criticism of a movie. As to NPR’s gripe that the Tuohys are “reinforcing the structures” of poverty and racism, I would ask Ms. Harris what she would do in Leigh Ann’s place. Many people have echoed her complaints about society, and the only solution they offer is some sort of exchange (read: revolution) where minorities take the reins of power and wealth. Again, this is pure envy, not justice. It also never works toward a thriving society, seething as it is with resentment and an entitlement of a different sort. Just ask the people of Zimbabwe.

Christians should always be vigilant against injustice. Like the Tuohy family, we should be on the lookout for the poor, the hurting, and the mourning, bringing them Christ’s comfort and material wholeness. Likewise, filmmakers should depict the whole humanity (including the flaws) of all their characters. We’re not going to be rid of white savior of magical Negro criticisms, though. There will always be people out there who won’t be satisfied unless the black characters are wholly good. But then you have a boring movie—the same kind of movie I have repeatedly decried among Christian films, where evangelicals are pure and their opposers are bad. Leigh Ann Tuohy is a real person. I have no doubt she is as depicted in The Blind Side, both big-hearted, charitable, and also sometimes unaware of how privileged she actually is. This foible is depicted in the film, when Michael says he’s never had his own bed to sleep in. Bullock’s quiet sympathy, her internal reckoning with this, and her authentic depiction of an affluent white Christian suburbanite (an alien species in Hollywood) is probably what won her the Oscar.

In his letter to the church in Galatia, Paul famously tells them “There is neither Jew nor Gentile, neither slave nor free, nor is there male and female, for you are all one in Christ Jesus.” In today’s Church, we extend this to mean there should be no division between the races as well (a division not nearly as large as the one between the Galatian slaves and free men, nor between men and women of the first century!) Martin Luther King, Jr., famously said the most segregated hour in America is 11:00 a.m. on Sunday. We should ask why. And when the hungry, the thirsty, the naked, and the imprisoned come to our attention, we should help, be we black, white, or brown. That’s what Leigh Ann Tuohy did, and if someone wants to make a race-reversed movie of the same story, I encourage them to go right ahead.

Don’t be surprised, though, if you’re accused of perpetuating the magical Negro trope.