In a recent Christianity Today article, Edward Gilbreath tells us what is happening to blacks in the evangelical church: they’re leaving. But the things he says in Exit Interviews apply not only to blacks and the evangelical church, but to prejudice and discrimination of any kind, anywhere. Too often this is seen to be against race, gender, an element of society or other group, or against certain practices, but I don’t think the problem is the prejudice or discrimination itself. It’s a flat-out refusal to honor and love another – any other, as a creature of God or a brother or sister in Christ.
This is evident in practices which honor a person or group for what that person or group represents, not for who they really are. They consist of token gesture rather than authentic love. Leaders are forced to be poster children or figureheads for a cause – positions in which they can neither be effective nor free to be themselves. The concern is with how things, or people, look, rather than with what’s really going on.
(Does this happen in the blogosphere, even the Godblogosphere...?)
Says Gilbreath,
Over the years, I've noticed a pattern of African Americans joining evangelical organizations, often as the first black, only to leave two, three, or four years later—usually in frustration. In dozens of interviews with black evangelical leaders, I heard story after story of alienation, anger, and defeat....Why do so many successful black evangelicals feel marginalized in evangelical institutions? Worse, why are some giving up on the idea of racial unity in the church altogether?
Consider Darrell Davis (not his real name) and his job with a large ministry:
For a while, things at the new position were fine. "I was the flavor of the month," he says. But over time, Davis began to sense tension between himself and his colleagues as he tried to implement new ideas. "I wasn't trying to make trouble," he says. "I was just there to do my job. But people will read into what you do out of their own fears and insecurities." (emphasis added)
I can’t emphasize that last statement enough. Who among us is not guilty of this? I certainly am, and I regret it, because it means I’ve been unfair to someone. It also means that I haven’t taken responsibility for something that I need to deal with.
But what’s the remedy? What’s the answer to prejudice and discrimination?
Simple. It’s friendship. Real friendship.
“Davis” tells of a confession made to him by a prominent white Christian leader during a lunch date. The leader confessed unfair treatment, including the fact that, when meetings were held, decisions had already made before black leaders even got there.
(How often does this type of thing happen in your church, or other group or organization? In your family?)
When asked how things could be made right, Davis invited the leader to his home so that they could share some barbecue and get to know one another.
Davis never heard from the gentleman again.
How many of us do this sort of thing? Sure, we get busy, things come up, and often people go their separate ways simply because of circumstances. But sometimes, aren’t these used as excuses merely to snub one another?
It can take courage and real effort to meet one another honestly and work with each other in an honorable way. It can take real courage and effort to be a true friend. (Yes, I’m beating this theme into the ground!) The thing is, this is where Christianity becomes real, and not just a creed, or something we do in a legalistic way. It’s relationship. Pure and simple, Christianity is about relationship. First and foremost it’s about our relationship to God and vice-versa, and then our relationships to and with one another. That’s it.
Even when we snub someone, we still have a relationship with them – a poor one. So when I say Christianity is about relationship, I mean that the type and quality of the relationship are of great moral bearing and require accountability. It is through relationship that we reach one another in God's name.
Says Gilbreath,
Somehow...we've gotten stuck in the rut of familiar patterns. These patterns lead us to believe we've accomplished something simply by, for example, hiring a person of color or speaking to a person of another race at church or hugging someone we don't know at a conference 300 miles away from home. These types of gestures are good and necessary. But we should not let symbolism displace the purpose of the acts themselves.
There it is again – symbolism over substance.
Gilbreath goes on to list ways in which we can have substance in our relationships. He exhorts us to do it and not wait, because
The cost of maintaining the status quo is too high.
Indeed.
