June 2020 — pg. 7
In this issue of LIGHT + LIFE, we are releasing a
position paper on “Racial Unity,” endorsed by the
Board of Bishops. The purpose of these position papers
is to provide pastors and churches with statements that
clearly articulate our theological and doctrinal convictions
on the critical issues of our day. This particular statement
has special significance for us as Free Methodists in light
of the fact that one of the key freedoms on which our
founders took their stand was “the freedom of all races to
worship and live together.” The introduction of this paper
ends with a statement that reflects our current reality and
then asks a critical question:
“Unfortunately, tension along racial lines is an ongoing
reality for the church. How do we align ourselves with the
gospel to create agency for the equity and inclusiveness of
all races?”
That is a question I’ve been asking myself for almost 30
years of pastoral ministry. Paul boldly proclaims, “For he
Jesus himself is our peace, who has made the two groups
one and has destroyed the barrier, the dividing wall of
hostility. ... His purpose was to create in himself one new
humanity out of the two, thus making peace” (Ephesians
2:14–15).
I hear and believe this statement to be absolute truth.
Jesus made racial unity possible. Jesus is our peace. Jesus
has destroyed the dividing wall of hostility. Jesus has made
us one. And yet, in so many ways, we are still struggling as
followers of Jesus to live out this truth in practice. So, yes,
how do we align ourselves with the gospel when it comes
to racial unity? Though the answer is certainly not limited
to a single response, I have come to believe racial unity
is best cultivated in the context of a racially diverse local
church.
If legislating it, writing about it, or talking about it
publicly could possibly bring about racial unity, we would
already have it. Clearly, we do not. The concept of racial
unity is not difficult to grasp, but living it is another story.
The challenge is that we cannot begin to understand how
to live it outside the context of racial diversity. So, if we
followers of Jesus hope to realize the promise of racial
unity and demonstrate to the world that Jesus is the way,
we must do it in the local church.
That conviction has been forged in the furnace of my
own personal journey.
My Story
I was reared in a small town in Southwest Georgia in
the heart of farm country. Without question there were
overt racists among us, but my parents were very careful
to model respect for all people and demanded the same of
me. When the time came for me to start school, my parents
chose not to send me to the all-white private school that
had just opened down the road. I instead went to the only
public school in the county that had just been integrated
the previous year.
As a first-grader, being in a racially diverse classroom
wasn’t particularly strange because I had never known any
other reality. I would spend the next 12 years with many of
those same classmates, and for the most part, we learned
well how to get along. On the athletic field, we did more
than that. We learned in the heat of competition, that
we were all brothers aiming for the same goal. When I
graduated from Calhoun County High, I would have told
you I had no issues when it came to race. I would have
justified that sentiment by pointing out that most of my
friends were black, but in hindsight it is clear to me now
our “friendships” never extended beyond the boundaries
of school. We never visited each other’s homes. We never
spent time together on the weekend. And we definitely
didn’t attend the same churches.
Several years later, I found myself sitting in an ethics class
at Asbury Theological Seminary discussing John Perkins’
outstanding autobiography, “Let Justice Roll Down.” That
book cut me to the core. I realized I had spent my entire
life around persons of color but had no idea what it was
actually like to be a person of color in our country. I left
seminary with a clear conviction that God was calling me
to something much deeper than merely “getting along.”
That conviction was immediately put to the test in my
first appointment (not in the Free Methodist Church). I
was 26 and pastoring a church with no youth, so I started
a recreational ministry to try to connect with local teens.
Almost overnight, there were a dozen kids coming to the
church weekly to play basketball on the court behind the
church. To make a long story short, when the leadership
of the church discovered some of the kids were black, they
insisted I tell them they could not return and informed me
of “our” policy that “only members and their invited guests
“How do we align
ourselves with the gospel
to create agency for the
equity and inclusiveness
of all races?”