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That We Might Be One

It has often been said that church on Sunday morning is the most segregated time in America today. This rings true in Mississippi. We claim to be an ethnic “melting pot,” yet people of different nationalities and backgrounds—black, white, Latino, Asian, Eastern European—most often worship with people who look, act, and talk like themselves. In His high priestly prayer in John 17, Jesus prayed that all the church might be one as He and the Father are one, as a witness to the world. Yet on Sunday morning, we seldom model this reality of the gospel.

Strong words? Yes. But I can’t help but wonder how this division must displease God. How it must pain Him. As Bob Pierce, the founder of World Vision, used to say, “Let my heart be broken with the things that break the heart of God.”

Reporters Alex Alston and James Dickerson tell a sad story about a church that sought to integrate its ranks:

The Mississippi Delta was in a tizzy over rumors that blacks might show up at white churches to worship. Some white churches hired armed guards to keep them out. Other white churches considered allowing them to attend services. One Delta congregation, a Presbyterian church with deep cultural roots, was split right down the middle. Half of the deacons voted no; the other half voted yes. After a contentious meeting to resolve the stalemate, one of the church elders hurriedly left the meeting to deliver the news to his mother, a firm believer in old-time segregation.

“Well, what did you decide?” she demanded.

“We decided to let them attend services.”

“You know I’m very much opposed to that!”

“I know, Mother—but think about it this way. What would Jesus do?”

“I know good and well what He’d do,” she huffed. “He’d say, let ’em in!”

She paused a moment, pondering the implications, then added, “But He’d be wrong!”1

Even though most Christians wouldn’t make a statement as bold as the elder’s mother, I don’t think many Christians believe reconciliation and integrated worship are central to the gospel and to our lives as Christians. But it is. We need God’s Word to help purge us of these sins that keep us apart. And it grieves and frightens me to the core to hear a Christian declare that maintaining racial separation is a higher value than imitating Christ!

Christ followers were first called Christians at Antioch—about fifteen years after the birth of the church at Pentecost. There must have been something remarkable about this particular group of believers—something that caught people’s attention and caused them to come up with a new name for those who previously had been known simply as “Followers of the Way.” What was happening at Antioch that was deserving of such special recognition?

Acts 13:1 lists some of the leaders of this church at Antioch, and if we pay attention, we see that these deacons and other leaders represented various ethnic groups. They came from very different backgrounds, but there they were, worshiping and serving God together in equality. They were living out what Paul describes when he writes, “Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creation; old things have passed away; behold, all things have become new!” (2 Cor. 5:17 NKJV), and “There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither slave nor free, there is neither male nor female; for you are all one in Christ Jesus” (Gal. 3:28 NKJV).

People—people I respect, people who are committed to reconciliation—disagree with me about this, but I am convinced that God’s will is for churches to be integrated. When we come to worship God, we should gladly come into His presence alongside anyone else who has come to worship Him. But for the most part we have done something else instead. We have accommodated bigotry within the church. We have become captive to the same divisions and hostilities that have plagued our nation for generations. In fact, instead of leading our culture toward unity, love, and reconciliation, the church often lags behind secular efforts to promote equality and healing.

By continuing in this direction, the church weakens the power of the gospel and creates doubt as to whether the power of God as Paul describes it in Romans 1:16 can break down the walls between churches of various nationalities. This is the intention of the gospel—being reconciled to God and to one another. Second Corinthians 5:19 says this so clearly: “God was reconciling the world to himself in Christ, not counting people’s sins against them. And he has committed to us the message of reconciliation.” The church has been given the message of reconciliation. We are to proclaim it. If we are not reconciling, how can we call ourselves the church?

I’m not saying every single congregation comprised of only one race or ethnicity can’t be the real church, but I do think that if we’re not striving to integrate, we’re ignoring what we have been told is the church’s mission. The very essence of mission, as laid out by Jesus Christ in the Great Commission (see Matt. 28:19–20), is to share the gospel with every ethnic group. The end goal, then, is for all ethnic groups to be together in the family of God. If this is true, then why would we think that our local congregations shouldn’t reflect that goal? If the kingdom of God is made up of every ethnic group, then let’s start modeling that reality of the kingdom in our local congregations.

First John 3:18 reads, “Let us not love in word or in tongue, but in deed and in truth” (NKJV). We can pass lofty-sounding laws and give speeches about tolerance all day long. We can boast about how we have black or white, Native American or Persian friends, but as long as we do not worship together, it is only talk. Segregation in the church inhibits love, which is the gospel. How can we expect God to break down walls and be present among us when we will not do the same and be present among one another? This idea isn’t new. If you have any doubts, read 1 John 3:11, which declares, “For this is the message that you heard from the beginning, that we should love one another” (NKJV).

As I look out at the world today, I think we are in a situation similar to one Elijah experienced. Elijah was an Old Testament prophet during the reign of Ahab, perhaps the most wicked ruler in Israel’s history. Ahab’s wife, Jezebel, in particular, led the Israelites to worship Baal and killed many of the Lord’s prophets so that Elijah was the only courageous prophet left. The people of Israel strayed so far from God that He sent a drought on the land for three years.

As God was about to lift the drought from Israel, He told Elijah to present himself to Ahab and show the people of Israel once again that He was the only true God. Most of us are probably familiar with the story of what followed. Elijah gathered the people of Israel, including 450 prophets of Baal, at Mount Carmel. Baal’s prophets, after hours of shouting, dancing, and even violently beating themselves, were unable to call their god to bring down fire from heaven to consume the bull they had sacrificed. Elijah, however, said a prayer to God, who sent down fire to consume not only the altar and sacrificed bull—which Elijah had drenched with water—but also the water in the trench surrounding the altar. It was an awesome display of the power of God and the importance of serving Him alone (see 1 Kings 18:16–40).

Yet what happened next intrigues me the most. God had promised Elijah that if he presented himself to Ahab, He would lift the drought from the land. Elijah knew how desperately the land needed rain and how anxious the people were for food and drink. Elijah, on top of Mount Carmel, knelt down with his face to the ground, prayed for rain, and told his servant, “Go and look toward the sea” for a cloud or sign of rain. When the servant returned, he said he saw nothing. The servant went to look five more times but reported he saw nothing. Finally, on the seventh time, the servant returned and reported, “A cloud as small as a man’s hand is rising from the sea.” This was all Elijah needed. He then told Ahab to get his chariot ready because the rain was coming (see 1 Kings 18:41–46).

The cloud was as small as a man’s hand, yet it gave him hope. I wonder if Elijah even believed that what the servant saw was a real cloud. Maybe he thought the servant’s mind was playing tricks on him, or that after desperately searching the skies so many times, he had just imagined the small spot so that he could finally report something. But it was enough. It gave Elijah something to hold on to. It told Elijah that there was hope for Israel after all, that God had not abandoned His people despite their years of unfaithfulness. Wrapped up in that little cloud, Elijah saw the promise of God’s steadfast love and His commitment to His people. He saw the Lord’s new mercies about to be poured out on Israel. In that cloud, Elijah found the hope he needed to keep going.

I know most Americans today do not worship Baal, but when I look at the church in America, I fear that we have our own Baals that demand our worship. I see so many people bowing down before prosperity theology and the idea that God just wants to make us wealthy and happy. I see people entrapped by the “-isms”—racism, sexism, ageism, classism, and so many others—that divide our church, choosing first to obey and revere these divisive systems rather than the God who has called us to be reconciled to one another and to be one in Christ Jesus. Perhaps people today aren’t declaring their allegiance quite as bluntly as the elder’s mother in the Mississippi Delta story I told earlier, but as we look at our churches, we cannot deny that they are divided by ethnicity, class, and age. We surround ourselves with people who are like us and value like-mindedness over genuine love and care for our neighbor.

Yet I am starting to believe that I have seen my own cloud. It is still small, maybe no bigger than the size of a man’s hand, but I think it is there. I see a movement of people excited and energized by multiethnic church planting, and that gives me so much hope. People all over the country are inviting me to conferences and churches that recognize diversity as a value, that are filled with people beginning to catch the vision of laying aside some of our differences to be united as one body. And this gives me hope. Let me tell you about just a few of the movements and churches I have grown to love.

Many people know me because I was part of the team that started the Christian Community Development Association (CCDA). At its start, CCDA was intended to be a network where people from across the country could come together, exchange ideas, and mutually support one another in the work of Christian community development. An essential part of this network was an annual conference that physically brought together all of these people.

CCDA started off with the three Rs—relocation, reconciliation, and redistribution—which I’ll talk about more extensively in later chapters. However, as time went on, it became apparent that a few more principles were needed to help better explain the work of CCDA. This realization led to the development of five additional principles—leadership development, empowerment, listening to the community, holistic development, and striving to be church based. Over time, the nonprofit and parachurch worlds have been evolving into entities separate from the church, taking on outreach efforts and social justice concerns once addressed by the church. But as CCDA began to grow and develop, this work needed to be centered on the church. The church is to be the incarnated Christ here on earth now, which means all members ought to be doing the work Christ did while He was here.

As CCDA has grown to be more church based, I have started to see more young church planters and church members among the approximately three thousand attendees at the annual conference. While we talk about ways parachurch organizations can thrive, we also talk about ways we can more authentically live out our multiethnic faith. We spend time worshiping together in diverse styles of worship led by people of various ethnicities. We hear sermons and plenary sessions given by leaders of ethnicities. It is a true picture of multiethnic worship, and the people who attend love it. Many comment afterward that it is one of the greatest expressions of multiethnic worship they have ever experienced, and they hope to replicate it in their own churches.

I get so much energy from the young people at the conference who have caught the vision and are excited to help make their churches look a little bit more like the multiethnic, multiclass kingdom of God we know is coming. I have met people with a similar energy, who are part of the conferences for Verge Network, Mosaic, Kainos, and Catalyst. Others like these exist, and more are coming. Multiethnic in their focus, they represent “Elijah’s hand” that’s going to turn into a storm, as they organize and mobilize these young church planters to continue working with a fresh, new vision. These young people are excited to see change happening in the church and are invigorated by the opportunity to start gospel-centered churches that are free from the systems of discrimination and bigotry that have long stood as the backbone of the church in America. I always leave these conferences excited and hopeful, energized by the prospect that the church in America might finally be losing its chains of racism.

I have come to know some specific churches and pastors and have been inspired by their vision. Just a few hours north of where I live in Jackson, Mississippi, is Fellowship Memphis, a church striving to be both gospel-centered and ethnically diverse. Founded in 2003 by Dr. John W. Bryson and Bryan Loritts, Fellowship Memphis has, in many ways, become a thriving picture of what a multiethnic church can be. Like me, these men have a dream and a vision for the church to overcome the racism and bigotry that has long been a part of the history of Memphis. They describe their dream like this:

We dream, even to the point of tears, to provide a medicating balm to the “black eye” of Memphis. From slavery to the assassination of Dr. King and beyond, Memphis has garnered the unfortunate reputation of racism. By standing on the authority of the Bible, and modeling diversity within our walls, we long to be a model to Memphians, the Mid-South and the world of diversity, racial reconciliation and racial harmony. To a world that says blacks and whites worshipping and doing life together in Memphis could never happen, we dream, labor and sacrifice all that we are by the power of the Holy Spirit and the authority of the blood of Jesus to say, “Yes it can! Yes it will!”2

Hearing people talk like this and actually begin to live it out in their church is what gives me hope. It allows me to believe that the work we have started is not in vain and that someday this dream will become a reality for all of us to see.

Another wonderful example of this happening is Quest Church in Seattle, Washington, started by my friend Eugene Cho. When Eugene and his wife, Minhee, first felt called to plant a multiethnic church in urban Seattle, they started as a house church. They eventually grew, joined the Evangelical Covenant denomination, and became a multiethnic church community, striving to be actively involved in the Seattle area. That alone is a great story, but it gets better.

Quest Church was a young, hip church with a coffee shop, and they did concerts and met in a warehouse owned by another congregation, Interbay Covenant Church. Quest Church was trendy and cool, but most members of the congregation were in their twenties and the atmosphere definitely appealed to only a certain demographic. Interbay Covenant Church, located right across the parking lot, had a very different congregation. It was well-established and mostly comprised of older people and families who had been a part of the church for a long time. However, after a few years, both churches began to realize that if they were to be a true reflection of the multiethnic, multigenerational kingdom of God, they needed to find a way to worship together instead of just next to each other.

After much prayer and some tense moments, Interbay Covenant Church offered to give their facilities to Quest Church and merge together to be one church. Quest is now a multiethnic, multigenerational church that is continuing to grow. People of various ages are inspired by a church that preaches a gospel that is bigger than the barriers we have allowed to divide us for far too long. Churches like Quest give me hope for the church of the future.

I think one of the most beautiful passages in the Bible is found in Revelation 7:9–12. It says,

After these things I looked, and behold, a great multitude which no one could number, of all nations, tribes, peoples, and tongues, standing before the throne and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, with palm branches in their hands, and crying out with a loud voice, saying, “Salvation belongs to our God who sits on the throne, and to the Lamb!” All the angels stood around the throne and the elders and the four living creatures, and fell on their faces before the throne and worshiped God, saying:

“Amen! Blessing and glory and wisdom,

Thanksgiving and honor and power and might,

Be to our God forever and ever.

Amen.” (NKJV)

All nations, tribes, peoples, and tongues will be together, praising and worshiping God in unity. I long for the day when this vision becomes reality. I long for a kingdom in which we aren’t divided over issues of culture or hatred of the past. I hear people arguing about everything from church pews to worship songs to old cultural traditions, but we need to start getting beyond this stuff. Acts 17:26 declares that the people from every nation are “made from one blood” (NKJV), so we are all one race. Issues related to ethnicity and tribalism may divide us, but we have to start recognizing that we are one race —the human race. The problems that divide us are surmountable.

We have been given a clear picture of what this kingdom is to look like—multiethnic, multicultural, multigenerational, multiclass—and we need to be on the side of that coming kingdom now. No, we are no longer in a society in which white church councils have meetings about whether to even let black people enter the doors, but we still live in a time when the majority of churches today do not look anything like John’s vision in Revelation. But people like Bryan and Eugene give me hope that we might become one as Jesus prayed we would. Their thriving congregations and the many people catching hold of their visions remind me that there is a cloud coming up over the lake, even if it is only the size of a man’s hand. The people who gather together and worship at CCDA and the energetic church planters who are part of these other conferences show me that the rain is coming. And be prepared for when it does, because if it is anything like what happened in Elijah’s day, this little cloud is about to take over the entire sky—and the heavy rain will come.