I am a daddy of three kids (5, 2 1/2 and 1). I grew up in Wilmington, North Carolina, and to most it’s a surprise when they find out about the home I grew up in. My dad is biracial (white and Filipino) and my mom is white. As part of the Asian culture, an athlete and a pretty sick musician, my dad had the blessing of being able to walk both the white and non-white side of the fence growing up in the 1960s and ’70s. He had black friends, white friends, Filipino friends and Samoan friends. This lifestyle permeated my thought process as a child. My closest friends have almost always looked different than me. Some of my own family members don’t even look like me. I’ve always been most comfortable around multi-ethnic communities.

Yet, despite that comfort, I haven’t always understood multi-ethnicity, nor have I always respected and honored it. To be honest, at times, I was open to and even participated in conversations that degraded someone for their race.

Like all of us, I am broken by the sin of racism. As I think of what a multi-ethnic lifestyle looks like in the home, my hope is that we get to a place where we, as daddies and mommies, not only push our children to understand race, ethnicity and culture, but to respect, love and, most importantly, value it the same way that God does—because he treasures the richness of the varied ethnicities he created.

My wife and I want the little disciples in our home to say, with ease and sincerity, “Mom! Dad! I have a black/brown/white/Asian/Latino/Native American friend. And I love them.” To reach that goal, here are five ideas we prioritize in our home:

1. Celebrate the community where God has placed you.

Eventually, your kids are going to notice that someone they know looks different than them. They will see a person who dresses differently, or that talks differently, or they’ll notice someone’s hair is different than theirs. Often times, we parents see this as a moment of confusion. Some of us don’t want to deal with answering these questions because we have our own stereotypical thoughts or negative ideas about a certain group of people. Others of us don’t know how to guide the conversation without being misinformed and coming across as rude, so we try to avoid it or minimize it.

But here is the real truth of the matter: God created man in his image (Genesis 1:27). So that little boy or little girl that your kid has noticed is a child of the great I Am—a prince or princess worthy of all the respect due God himself. When your kids notice someone that looks different, don’t shy away from the differences. Instead, celebrate the diversity that God has created. Celebrate the difference that you would have otherwise have ignored (but that your kid, not knowing the social rules, just blurted out).

The alternatives to celebrating these ethnic differences aren’t pretty. If we ignore them, we communicate to our kids that ethnic differences are dangerous to talk about. Worse, if we denigrate others for the way they look, we communicate to our kids that God doesn’t find beauty in all of his children. So let’s take our kids’ sincere and awkward questions as an opportunity to see the beauty that God has put right in front of us.

2. Go first.

What would happen if, instead of your kid bringing up something out of the blue, you brought it to their attention first? “Hey, Sam! Did you notice that God blessed you with friends that look different than you? How can you thank God for the people he has placed in your life?”

You’ve now set the stage for shaping how your children see those around them through the lens of the gospel. Leaving a first-time experience like this up to someone else (a teacher or a classmate) is risky. Maybe another grown-up will shepherd your child well in this moment. But maybe they will reinforce hurtful stereotypes. Wouldn’t you rather frame your kids’ understanding of ethnicity before a relative stranger does?

And if you harbor stereotypes yourself, why not “go first” by modeling humility and repentance before your children? If you need to be discipled in addressing issues of multi-ethnicity, show your kids what Christlike vulnerability is by admitting that you have room to grow and asking for help. Go first!

3. Expose and experience.

I grew up listening to old-school R&B and ‘90s rap. I’m not condoning all of what I listened to, but it definitely gave me something to talk about with friends who didn’t look like me. My non-white friends resonated with this music because it was most often created by their culture and reflected much of their experience.

My wife and I allow our kids to experience a variety of music genres as well. Christian rap, contemporary Christian music, Gospel music, kids music, and (appropriate!) secular songs are all on the playlist. My 5-year-old son and 2 1/2 year old daughter can sing you a song off their Summit Church worship CD, a Lecrae rap song, a little Justin Timberlake and several gospel songs. The coolest part, other than hearing them sing, is that they also know who sings the song, what they look like and that the sounds of their songs come from their culture.

We also try and monitor the resources that our kids are exposed to when it comes to the Bible. Here’s a challenge for you. Open every single children’s Bible app, book, coloring page, and whatever else you have. Does the depiction of Jesus and other Bible characters look … like you? Or do they look Middle Eastern? As a positive example, The Jesus Storybook Bible makes an attempt to portray Jesus with olive-toned skin and dark eyes.

Here are some helpful questions to ask yourself:

• Of all the songs, books, apps and everything else your child is exposed to, how much of it is written, sung or created by white artists?
• What percent of those Christian-based items depict characters (especially Jesus) as predominantly white figures?

The answers to these questions should be a good indicator of how heavily your children are exposed not only to multi-ethnicity, but to accurate biblical characterizations of those the Lord thought necessary to have in his written words as well. Simply put, the authors of the Bible were multi-ethnic (and none of them were white!). These experiences are paramount in showing our children what God is about when it comes to our unique, valuable differences.

4. Diversify your dinner table.

Without a doubt, diversifying our dinner table has been the most impactful piece of raising our children to know a Jesus that is about all nations, tribes, and tongues. If you don’t have any family friends that look different than you, your family is missing out.

Now, to be clear, when I say, “dinner table,” I mean, “your life.” It’s helpful, of course, to literally have some other families join you for dinner. But your friendship can happen in a number of different contexts. Regardless of how it looks, these need to be real friends, not acquaintances you simply say hello to in the break room, but part of your daily discipleship—parents struggling through marriage, kids acting out in school, neighbors on your street. Intentionally pursue multi-ethnic relationships and your kids will see it.

Here’s the beauty about starting with relationship. Not only does this put our family in contact with people who look different, think differently, and possibly dress differently. But these relationships put a face to the atrocities we see happening with race relations in today’s world. Which leads me to my last suggestion …

5. Pray.

Model what it sounds and looks like to pray for injustice and reconciliation. You don’t have to go into specifics until your child is ready. You don’t even have to know the best words for each situation. Sometimes how you sound—sad and heartbroken—might be all that is really needed. Simply acknowledging to God, in front of your children, that things aren’t as easy for our brothers and sisters of color can raise some great conversations. When we weep with those who weep, it sets the context for race conversations in our kids’ minds. I’d much rather stumble through my words with them than trust society to do it for me.

I have heard it said that in pursuing multi-ethnic community, we must spend time in relationship—listening well, having conversation—and twice as much time on our knees, begging God to move in the lives of those impacted by and those who have perpetrated oppression. After all, we model humility for our children through our weaknesses, not our strengths. When our children see us sincerely struggling through issues like this, it demonstrates to them how they should also depend on God to direct them, even when they are unsure.

There is a lot of fear in this process. I have been afraid to take on this task with my children because there is so much I don’t understand. I have been afraid because I sometimes don’t want to find out the truth for myself. But my biggest fear is to sit back and do nothing, to be complicit in a continual cycle of division. I am still learning, and while I may be doing things differently in 10 years than I am today, I never want to stop growing.

These conversations and relationships are challenging. But through these efforts, my family and I have found this challenge to be one worth taking. My prayer for my family, and yours, is that we can push past our fragility and boldly teach the next generation the whole truth of the gospel in light of our differences, not despite them.

For nearly 30 years, then, Anderson has not only been talking and writing about such things but he’s been an effective practitioner leading others to be one in the church for the sake of the gospel. In what follows, he shares the necessity of fighting on our knees against the schemes of the Devil which seek to divide and keep us divided along the lines of color, class and culture.

In the army, we were taught to stay together, watch each other’s backs, and be on the lookout for the enemy, who works overtime to set up sneak attacks and ambushes. During our training exercises, my platoon would spend the night sleeping outside in the woods. When it was time to sleep, soldiers who were paired up would sleep in shifts. One soldier would sleep in the tent while the other remained awake to keep his eyes open for enemy combatants.

It was imperative to trust that your partner would not fall asleep on the job while you were sleeping. After a couple of hours, we would trade places so that the one who was sleeping could keep watch while the other soldier could rest his tired eyes. We were taught that the enemy never sleeps.

The same is true about our spiritual enemy. Satan, the great deceiver and divider, works overtime to separate Christians, catch them while they are weak, worn, conflicted, confused and, most of all, asleep. Just as Jesus’ friends dozed off when they were supposed to stay awake and pray for him while he was facing the most difficult spiritual and emotional battle of his life in the garden of Gethsemane, we as believers have been lulled to sleep while the Enemy prowls around like a roaring lion. As brothers and sisters in Christ, we are called to watch each other’s backs at all times, but especially in prayer. When we are careful to cover each other and stay unified against our common enemy, we find less time to argue and divide over our differences regarding race, ethnicity, denominational preferences, and the like.

When believers from every background begin to pray together, an undeniable unity emerges that elevates the spirit of oneness and diminishes the spirit of division. The enemy cannot fight effectively against a collection of believers who are more determined to “pray … all kinds of prayers” (Eph. 6:18) to fight against the principalities and spiritual forces of darkness that desire to stir up dissension and ethnic division.

Jesus prayed that his future disciples would be unified and not otherwise segregated as we remain today. (John 17:20–21) For instance, he didn’t pray that white believers would be unified with their informational exegesis while Black believers would be unified with their inspirational exposition. He didn’t pray that Latinos would be unified in their praise while Asians would be unified in their practice. Jesus simply prayed that all the believers who came to believe in him would be one.

Since this was the longest recorded prayer of Jesus in the Bible, isn’t it fascinating: In it, he prayed for desegregated unity. How much more, then, should we follow his example in our prayers and practice?

Jesus knew that the secret to real unity was rooted in prayer that transcends the distinctions of this world that otherwise divide. Those who pray and practice their faith in unity across racial, ethnic and denominational lines touch the heart of heaven. When we pray together across such human boundaries, we are joining Jesus in praying, “Thy kingdom come, thy will be done on earth as it is in heaven.”

Indeed, many talk a good game about racial unity. But the real question is, are we willing to fight for Christ-centered unity on our knees?

Read more from Mark DeYmaz »

This article is adapted from Leading a Healthy Multi-Ethnic Church by Mark DeYmaz with Harry Li (Zondervan, 2010, 2013).

“We’re in Southern California, so the population is pretty diverse,” he says. “It’s not healthy to serve one particular group when the neighborhood is super diverse.”

The pandemic ultimately helped reshuffle the deck, so to speak, because people stopped attending churches while their doors were closed. When churches reopened, it was an open slate for welcoming newcomers. 

“I thought it was quite a good thing God was doing,” says Tan-Gatue. “Not that I’d wish COVID-19 on anyone, but sometimes opportunities can come from not-so-great things.”

The new integrated ministry is a result of the church team feeling called to take it upon themselves to invite people—all the people—into a committed community.

“We figured we might as well go for it since most of our folks weren’t coming [after COVID-19] anyway,” says Tan-Gatue.

The church became healthier not because their numbers increased but because the mix of people who attended changed, which created beautiful diversity. 

“Those who came were looking for fellowship, community, relationship or a spiritual experience,” says Tan-Gatue, who notes that they get a lot of walk-ins and homeless folks.

Change can be uncomfortable, and some previous members struggled at first. 

“Some didn’t like the idea of inviting new people in,” says Tan-Gatue. “But a big part of the work is changing the mission from meeting whatever felt needs are for one group, and instead focusing on the gospel. The felt needs were so great that sometimes it can overshadow the actual spiritual human that everyone has, which is Christ.”

Change happened, he feels, because God used church leaders.

“It can be tricky because you have to straddle that line between taking care of your members and pushing for change, which may be beyond their comfort zone,” says Tan-Gatue, who notes that the church is really thriving and in a much healthier position now because “the point is the main point.”

That commitment is shown not only in the people Praise Community now serves but also in how they nurture the worship experience as well as how they plan events. This doesn’t mean that everyone agrees.

“They were comfortable the way things were, so this is discomfort for some, but to my surprise, even the people who are not comfortable are very friendly and welcoming,” says Tan-Gatue. “A common complaint about churches, in general, is that they are friendly to their own people but not to outsiders. That is not the case at Praise Community.”

On its website the church offers a list of community resources such as care and counseling services, food pantries and homeless shelters. Praise Community also has outreach ministries to the local community in the San Gabriel Valley and throughout Southern California, as well as to the global community, citing Acts 1:8: “But you will receive power when the Holy Spirit comes on you; and you will be my witnesses in Jerusalem, and in all Judea and Samaria, and to the ends of the earth.”

Tan-Gatue believes he was called to Praise Community for a reason, and so he always stays focused on that reason. “You have to stick with the mission that God has laid before us, and that includes being open to whomever God is sending in our direction. I just concentrate on who we are as children of God and highlight our commonalities instead of our differences. The differences in cultures come out anyway, which is great. We celebrate that, too.”

Recently, a woman visited Praise Community Church and commented how wonderful it was that the Scriptures were presented in four languages (Thai, Chinese, Spanish and English). 

“She said it was the most amazing thing and that she’d never seen a church do that,” says Tan-Gatue. “I told her that it’s a signal that all are welcome.”

Read about Barna Group’s Thriving Church framework here » 

While what is happening in our nation isn’t a new song—the African American community knows the choreography to this dance—it does feel like a unique moment in history.

This is a compounded trauma. I use the word “trauma” because I want Black people to know that the trauma they feel is a real thing. This trauma operates in three ways.

First, there’s the historical trauma, which a friend likened to a mother who’s lost three generations of children: during slavery, during Jim Crow and now, at the hands of police brutality.

Second, we also have the trauma of our own experience, and that scar tissue starts to itch when it brings up our own individual racial trauma.

Last, there’s the vicarious trauma of watching, for instance, an eight-minute and 46-second video of a Black man being mercilessly killed. We are all deeply disturbed by the video of George Floyd’s death. But for the Black community, it strikes differently. We think, Wait. I’m Breonna. I’m Ahmaud. I’m George Floyd. We felt our bodies screaming, Is this us? Am I next?

I wish all of that was rare or new. It’s not. But something about our current moment is new. When you juxtapose racial tension with a pandemic that kept us from worshiping or going to work to distract ourselves—that is a big straw that seems to have broken the camel’s back.

Now the church is being called to lead in mourning, in lament, in solidarity and in a renewed commitment to racial justice. Many of my white brothers and sisters are wrestling with this process in a fresh way, wondering how they connect to centuries-old sins like slavery. They are beginning to grapple with their role in the racial disparities of our society today. They are asking about white supremacy—what it means and how we might dismantle it.

Like others in the church, I build my worldview based on what Christ has done in me. But I’m also an American, and I’m also a Black woman. I’m a product of my mother and my mother’s mother and the mothers that came before her. The legacy they have left for me is something I can’t ignore. I’m a product of my family’s history.

As are you. As are we all.

If America has built something purposefully, whether it’s a law or just a cultural norm, then we also, as Americans, have to dismantle it purposefully.

Racial reconciliation is a gospel issue. When Jesus was asked what the greatest law was, he said it is to love God with all your heart, soul, mind and strength—and, though they didn’t ask for a second one, he told them anyway that you are to love your neighbor as yourself. We say that as a blanket statement that has no nuance to it. How do I love someone as myself? I’ve got to figure out what’s going on in their life, and I also have to look at my own life and how I love myself. If we don’t do that as the church, then people won’t trust us. If people feel like they can’t trust us with their body and their melanin, then they won’t trust us with their soul, either.

If we want to move this conversation from the national spotlight into ongoing gospel community, we have to recognize that this is a discipleship issue as much as it is a gospel issue.

We simply cannot sit back and wait for another violent public event to tell the church how it should respond. For the church—the people within it—our discipleship should present us mature in a way that we know that we are to love God with our heart, soul, mind and strength—and love our neighbor as ourselves. So when these things come, we’re not scrambling to put together a statement; it’s not a new hashtag; it’s not new theology. It’s walking out our faith from what we’ve been learning in the Word and in the church.

We need to have the same view as Isaiah when he said, “I am a man of unclean lips, and I live among a people of unclean lips”—knowing that, as we confess together, God will take that coal and put it on our lips. He will forgive us if we come together and walk together, are sanctified and discipled together, and bear this sin together.

Sanctification is slow, and there is no “done.” That’s the posture we should take with racial justice and reconciliation. We are being sanctified together as the church in the United States, and we shouldn’t jump to solutions any more than we should jump to “three ways to quick sanctification.”

What I’m talking about here isn’t about complacency, but about pace. Just because the journey is a slow one does not mean it’s an optional one. I have faith that I will see my God offer to us this far-off solution in the land of the living. But, like Shadrach, Meshach and Abednego, I declare that “even if he does not,” I will engage the church in racial discipleship with eternal hope.

When we commit to the long haul of repentance and reconciliation and acknowledge God in all our ways, then he will make our paths straight.

This article originally appeared on JDGreear.com and is reposted here by permission.

Pain is unavoidable when pastoring. It can’t be ignored. Complaining or white-knuckling our way through won’t work. When I was hurting the most, I existed in a state of cynicism, resentment, and frustration. I kept trying to heal on the fly and haphazardly bandage my wounds. But some wounds are too deep for Band-Aids and quick fixes.

Brothers, if we’re going to plant and pastor churches for the long haul, we must address our wounds. Our aim should be to maintain our spiritual health and connection to Jesus. But this is easier said than done when we’re suffering.

Here are three ways church leaders can prioritize healing from pain to ensure longevity in service to Christ.

1. Assess the Damage.

For years, I took a “head down, shoulders squared” approach to church planting. My motto was “forward at all cost.” I kept going, but only out of obligation, not joy. On the outside, I was determined; inwardly, I was dejected, discouraged, cynical, and often critical of others.

David prayed for God to search his heart, examine his motives, and reveal his sin (Ps. 139:23–24), and so should we. But be warned, brothers: asking God to examine you and reveal what’s hidden is a dangerous prayer. We may not like what we see.

Yet when God reveals our bitterness, resentment, fear, and anxiety, he also reveals himself, his grace, and mercy. He invites us to rest in him, trust his Spirit’s leading, extend forgiveness, uproot bitterness, and lean on his saints in our struggles.

To receive these heart checks, we must routinely hit pause. For longevity in church planting, we must spend time being still before God (Ps. 46:10), reflecting, resting, and refreshing. We can’t ignore our pain. We need to know what we’re dealing with. We seek help from the One who was wounded for us, for by his wounds we are healed (Isa. 53:5). Pastor, prioritize spending time in God’s presence, asking him to search your heart.

2. Grieve Well.

Loss is inevitable and plentiful in church planting. Pastors regularly address painful circumstances in the lives of their flock such as divorce, miscarriages, death, depression, dreams deferred, and more.

We’re tempted to focus on and repost baby dedications, baptisms, new campuses, and grand openings. But those are just the highlights. What we celebrate isn’t the whole game. Funerals, false starts, failed attempts, fractured friendships, and financial woes are critical parts of our stories, too.

I’ve been trained in useful ways and taught many things, but I wasn’t prepared to handle my pain. I didn’t know how to grieve. Pastor, you won’t be able to finish your race well if you know Greek but don’t know how to grieve.

Grief acknowledges our pain as well as the new dynamics in the aftermath of loss, but it should also draw us to the Savior’s healing. Grief propels us to Christ. I’ve had to learn to grieve desertion, death, and the demise of my expectations. When we know how to grieve well, we’re better equipped to help others in our church plants become good grievers, too. Grieving well is a grace of God that leads to longevity and health.

3. Run to Jesus.

When the pain of pastoring becomes unbearable, I’m prone to run in the wrong direction. Desperate for immediate relief, I scramble to seek temporal comforts. I doubt I’m alone. Sometimes in my suffering, I desire to be pacified instead of purified in his presence.

Brothers, to cross the finish line of pastoral ministry, we must turn to the Chief Shepherd when we’re hurting, bringing our pain to the foot of his cross. We don’t have to suffer alone, for Jesus meets our every need with his sufficiency. He is a man of sorrows (Isa. 53:3) who can sympathize with us because of his own suffering (Heb. 4:15). And he invites us to boldly, not timidly, approach his throne and find grace (Heb. 4:16).

We can run to all the wrong things for relief, can’t we? And we may find it, temporarily. But we won’t ever know true and lasting healing until we run to Jesus. He is our healer. To him we pray, “Heal me, O LORD, and I shall be healed” (Jer. 17:14).

Church planting is about more than a successful launch. It’s about a faithful finish. We can’t finish well when we’re distracted and embittered by pain. We must strive for longevity in ministry by addressing our wounds and relying on the Lord for restored health.

Our pain is great, but our God is greater. “He heals the brokenhearted and binds up their wounds” (Ps. 147:2). May we be men who glorify God in our pain by trusting him for healing, so we can get on with the mission of discipling nations.

This article originally appeared on TheGospelCoalition.org and is reposted here by permission.

I was never more proud to be a member of my church than the day the pastors and staff stood to protect my life.

It was the day after a violent rally where hundreds of white nationalists, Ku Klux Klan members and neo-Nazis descended on Charlottesville, Virginia, to protest the removal of a Confederate statue. They came with helmets, shields, baseball bats and carrying Confederate flags and placards bearing anti-Semitic slurs.

A young white supremacist drove his car into a crowd of people who were protesting this white supremacist gathering, killing one woman and injuring many others—two police officers also died in a helicopter crash while trying to monitor the situation and protect the crowd.

The next morning I was scheduled to preach at my local church and knew I’d address this tragic event in my sermon. During worship, the pastors and I noticed a young white man, who came in and stood by a chair directly in front of the pulpit. He acted odd and kept looking over his shoulder as if he was watching for something.

My heart began to beat fast as I felt a palpable sense of fear! I turned to one of the pastors and asked if he knew this young man. He quickly said, “No,” and added that he also felt concerned. I literally did not know what to do but now it was time for me to preach.

When I got on stage, I realized that the pastors had instinctively devised a plan. They sat on the front row in various places, confidently looking directly at me. Their eyes said, “You don’t have to worry. We got you! We’re not going to let anything happen to you.”

It was clear that they took my safety as a black woman, who preaches about reconciliation, seriously. They did not minimize or dismiss my worries by suggesting that I was making too much of the situation. Nor did they sit silently by, doing nothing. No, they showed up in solidarity with me and I have never felt more loved by my church!

They didn’t just talk about love, using fancy Christian platitudes. They proved their solidarity by being willing to defend, protect and keep me safe.

This is what it looks like to support people of color and to be in solidarity with others. The pursuit of equality, justice and civility involves publicly protecting those who are under threat in these racially charged and politically divisive times.

This active solidarity creates opportunities for us to bear witness to the unifying power of Jesus Christ to heal broken relationships and systems, bringing social change.

Read the 4-part Ken Wytsma series on race and the gospel here.

Read Efrem Smith on how Christians can seek transformation, reconciliation, justice and healing in these deeply divided times here.

Read Bryan Loritts on why diversity is not a fringe issue here.

Read Brenda Salter McNeil on why pursuing reconciliation is essential to the gospel here.

For more on the topic of racial reconciliation: outreachmagazine.com/racial-reconciliation

As a college athlete myself, I felt an immediate connection with Kirk and was somewhat confused and yet impressed that he was really into God. I’d never known another athlete to be so devoted to the Bible, to a church or, more specifically, to Jesus Christ.

What I remember most about Kirk is he didn’t talk to me; he talked with me. He didn’t force his opinions on me; he became a friend to me. He didn’t condemn me; he walked patiently with me.

Kirk was a peacemaker.

BEING LIKE CHRIST

In the Sermon on the Mount, Jesus preached through what today we call the Beatitudes. In Matthew 5:3–8, he taught the following to the crowds:

• The poor in spirit will be blessed, for theirs is the kingdom of God.
• Those who mourn will be comforted.
• The gentle shall inherit the earth.
• Those who hunger and thirst for righteousness shall be satisfied.
• The merciful will receive mercy.
• The pure in heart will see God.

Next he said, “Blessed are the peacemakers, for they shall be called sons of God” (v. 9).

Did you catch it?

In the previous verses, people are blessed to receive something for who they are or what they do. Only in verse 9 are people identified with someone; namely, Jesus Christ, the Prince of Peace. We are never more closely aligned to the person, the mission and the message of Christ than we are when seeking to advance peace.

This is what Jesus came to do: first, to bring peace to us, as individuals through faith in God, and likewise to advance peace among us, collectively, beyond the distinctions of this world that otherwise divide.

FACING HARDSHIPS

Isn’t it interesting that without notes, a teleprompter or PowerPoint slides, the very next thing on Jesus’ mind after speaking of peacemaking is the inevitability of persecution in the pursuit of peace (Matt. 5:10–12).

The fact is, being a peacemaker is not at all easy. It takes faith, courage and sacrifice as well as prayer, patience and persistence to set aside your own personality and preferences for the sake of others. In both word and deed, peacemakers are often misunderstood, misjudged and maligned. Why? Because certain people and institutions benefit from division. Indeed, there are some whose entire platform and the money they make is derived from keeping us at odds.

That said, we shouldn’t be surprised; this is how the Devil works. To gut the very power of our collective witness, he seeks to divide our churches and us along the lines of flesh and blood (color, class and culture), as do the rulers, powers, world forces of darkness and those in spiritual places (Eph. 6:10–13ff.). For this reason, Paul admonishes us to stand firm in unity and diversity as one in Christ in local churches so as to advance a credible gospel (Eph. 4:1–6; Gal. 3:28).

Ultimately, to be a peacemaker requires the setting aside of any power, position and privilege this life has afforded or that one might otherwise have attained, so others will come to know him as we do. This is exactly what Jesus did, as Paul explained in Philippians 2:5-8:

Have this attitude in yourselves which was also in Christ Jesus, who, although he existed in the form of God, did not regard equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, taking the form of a bond servant … he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross.

In humility and obedience, peacemakers:

• give their lives for the sake of others;
• renew, reconcile and redeem broken relationships, whether interpersonal or collective;
• do not seek to get their way but to pave a way for diverse others to find common ground;
• embrace the ministry of reconciliation as ambassadors of Christ (2 Cor. 5:18–20) and repairers of the breach (Isa. 58:12) without fear, shame or hesitation;
• faithfully press on in the face of cynical pushback knowing that Jesus was disparaged by many throughout his life as well.

Isn’t that what we all should aim to do?

Read more from Mark DeYmaz »

As I reflect on my nearly 40 years of ministry at Grace, many milestones were crossed along the way, the most significant being our transition away from homogeneity and toward becoming a multiethnic church.

The Mystery of the Gospel

Somewhere in the 1990s, God used a series of events to awaken me to the scandal of racial division in the church. I remember being pulled up short when reading the closing words of Paul’s letter to the Ephesians:

“Pray also for me, that whenever I open my mouth words may be given me so that I will fearlessly make known the mystery of the gospel, for which I am an ambassador in chains” (6:19–20).

Wow. I paused. The mystery of the gospel? What exactly does he mean?

Turning back to Ephesians 3:6, I came to recognize that Paul had already defined the phrase:

“This mystery is that through the gospel the Gentiles are heirs together with Israel, members together of one body, sharers together in the promise in Christ.”

I had never been taught or seen it before, but Paul clearly expressed that salvation, the local church and the coming eternal kingdom of God were not just for some people but for all people. In fact, it was for proclaiming this specific message—the mystery of the gospel and not simply the gospel itself—that Paul was actually arrested and imprisoned (see Acts 22:21–22). This realization set me on a biblical and ecclesiastical journey. In time, I concluded that the mission of every local church is to proclaim and demonstrate the love of God, beyond the lines of race and class, so that diverse others in the community will be drawn to Jesus by our love for him and for one another.

A Church for All People

With a new understanding and passion for what together we could become, Grace went from being monoethnic to becoming a healthy multiethnic church. Of course, to get there involved intentionality, and in our case, we began by engaging church leadership. Together, our leadership first studied and discussed the biblical vision of a multiethnic church. We considered the diverse churches at Antioch, Ephesus and Rome. We came to understand that such pursuits cannot be driven by political correctness or by changing demographics. Rather, we recognized a biblical imperative.

Next, I took time to preach and teach this biblical vision to our congregation. But even then I knew words alone would not be enough to bring the vision to life. We would also need to empower diverse (non-white) leaders in responsible positions of authority.

In 2006, we prayerfully sought a nonwhite person to join me in senior pastoral ministry, and God led us to Kenny Foster, an African American. Since that time, he and I have shared the duties of the pastorate equally, including the preaching. And later, when a significant number of first-generation Koreans began attending our church, we hired David Jikwang Kim, a pastor of Korean descent. To be clear, these men are not merely pastors of their own ethnic or cultural groups; they pastor the entire church.

Such additions have had a profound impact on our congregation. Seeing the diversity of our pastoral leadership team, our personal relationships and interaction, as well as our mutual respect for each other clearly communicated, as it does to this day, that we are a church for all people.

Coming Full Circle

In August 2020, my season as senior pastor came to a close. Yet it was my inexpressible joy to preside at an installation service through which my good friend and colleague of many years, Kenny Foster, was installed as the new senior pastor of Grace Presbyterian Church. As I handed the baton to Kenny that day and looked out over the wonderfully diverse congregation, I was filled with a sense of completion.

Looking back to the very white and middle-class church to which I came in 1983 and seeing the multiethnic church it has become, I recognized another beautiful milestone had been passed.

Read more from Mark DeYmaz »

In the church we have similar questions. We pursue unity in diversity, too, not because it’s politically correct, but because it’s a God-given mandate. Our Savior commissioned us to make disciples of all peoples (Matt. 28:19); the Holy Spirit came in permanent, Pentecostal fire upon a diverse church (Acts 2); and our worship will one day culminate around a rainbow throne with rainbow people from everywhere (Rev. 7:9). Yet, the church has strayed from this ideal. And even churches that have made notable progress still experience ethnic tensions and challenges, including my own Evangelical Covenant Church, one of the most multiethnic denominations in North America.

What is going on? It is a given, of course, that the Enemy is at work breeding ethnic division in the church to limit kingdom impact. But what else is going on? In his book The Righteous Mind, moral psychologist Jonathan Haidt presents an intriguing study of why well-intentioned people remain divided. It turns out that emphasizing differences makes many people more racist, not less. When difference is emphasized, the result is a less cohesive group. As homo sapiens, our natural inclination when presented with difference is to stick all the more closely to our own tribes. Haidt’s solution is controversial:

“Increase similarity, not diversity … make everyone feel like a family. So don’t call attention to racial and ethnic differences; make them less relevant by ramping up similarity and celebrating the group’s shared values and common identity.”

In my opinion, this radically colorblind approach unhelpfully swings the pendulum in the opposite direction. Like so many things in life, we must strive for both/and. God calls attention to our racial and ethnic differences, delighting in our diversity and calling us to pursue reconciliation wherever needed. The body of Christ is comprised of many members, and we need each other’s contributions to thrive. Yes, we must celebrate our diversity, yet at the very same time, and with the very same fervor, we must celebrate our unity. Cohesion comes most importantly by not losing sight of our commonality. Cohesion comes with our passionate celebration of being one family united with a shared Father, a shared Spirit and a glorious shared mission to accomplish in Christ.

We are called neither to overemphasize unity to the detriment of diversity, nor to overemphasize diversity to the detriment of unity. We are called to both/and. Diversity and unity. Many members, one body. From the many, one. With God’s help and empowerment, let us find fresh and creative ways to pursue e pluribus unum—in our churches, in our communities and in our nation.

Read more from Michell Sanchez »

And I have to confess, it was a tremendous challenge moving to the U.S. Even though I was born a U.S. citizen, I didn’t know any English words. Moving to a place where there was a different culture, a different language, having to learn English from scratch, trying to fit in every way that I could, trying to identify with professional sports teams like my American peers, or just trying to have the same fashion. It was very difficult.

What I would like to communicate with my brothers and sisters in Christ here in the United States, particularly those who are Anglo and in the majority culture, is you don’t have to think a lot about these things, but many of us who come from other places and people who come from minority cultures have to think about how to navigate in your world pretty much all the time.

One of the encouragements I would offer is to realize that each of us, you and me, are created as unique individuals in the image and likeness of God. And so the bottom line, we share the same human needs. We are human persons, male and female, but we need to treat one another with the dignity of the image of God.

But also understand, in the same way that we wouldn’t say all people of the majority culture are the same—there’s a great diversity among the Anglo cultures—likewise there’s a great diversity among the Hispanic cultures. We have different foods. Even our Spanish is different in nuances, and we sometimes switch different words.

The greatest encouragement I can offer is to look at people as individuals created in the image of God and to treat them with that dignity.

But what you also need to understand is, as brother and sisters in Christ, we have more in common with one another, with people who don’t even speak our language, than we do with our own blood-kin, our family members in our own households who are not believers. We have more in common with a believer who has come out of the Muslim faith in the Middle East than our American neighbor down the road who has an American flag waving in front of their house, but doesn’t know Christ.

We are brothers and sisters in Christ and the ascended Christ has structured his church to gather a multiethnic assembly. As we gather in local churches, we’re to display the manifold wisdom of God to the cosmic powers as we live life together as a church. There’s nothing more beautiful than seeing brothers and sisters in Christ coming around the Lord’s table together saying, “We’re family. We’re brothers and sisters in Christ.”

As a church and as Christians here in the United States, our mission is to see all peoples become wholehearted followers of Jesus Christ. We’re to go everywhere, without discrimination, calling all peoples everywhere to repent and believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, regardless of which nation they came out of.

The United States is a very young nation. We need to understand that, should the Lord tarry, we need to continue sharing the good news of the gospel of Jesus Christ to all peoples that they may come to faith in Christ and be incorporated into the body of Christ, so that together we would display the manifold wisdom of God.

Read more from Juan Sanchez »

This article originally appeared on LifeWayVoices.com and is reposted here by permission.