Challenging conversations


or a couple of decades now, churches in America have wrestled with how, or whether, to embrace gay people as full brothers and sisters in the faith. Outsiders to Christi-


By Peter W. Marty Eighteenth in a series


Sunday morning segregation F


Reversing church color lines is the Jesus—not politically correct—thing to do


anity have looked on with dismay as many believers have con- vinced themselves that God’s top priority for the church must involve sexual orientation. Few congregations engaged in the passionate battle of


“who is acceptable and who is not” have bothered to bat an eye at the absence of racial diversity in their pews. No qualms, no troubled consciences, and apparently no major misgivings challenge many of these Christians to address the near total whiteness or blackness of their congregation’s complexion. Yet what kind of reflection of kingdom values is this inat-


tention to racial diversity? (See Galatians 3:27-28 for a con- trasting way.) Christians are typically better at talking about racial diver-


sity than practicing it in their everyday lives. What remains indisputable is that segregation within our churches remains at an embarrassing level. We profess to share the love of the Lord with all people, yet most of us think little about the fact that we attend churches comprised largely of our own race. Not much has changed since Martin Luther King Jr. made


his famous statement about 11 on Sunday morning being the most racially divided hour in America. Today only about 6 percent of Ameri- can churches are integrated, if by this designation we mean that at least 20 percent of a church’s members do not belong to the predominant racial group worshiping there. Admittedly, the isolation of some rural and suburban con-


nities and privileges tilt in your favor. If you doubt this, just ask yourself simple questions such as: Am I pretty much assured that my skin color doesn’t work against me when applying for a job? Can I be confident that I’m able to rent or buy housing in any community where I wish, and can afford, to live? Are the odds of a police officer pulling me over for the color of my skin negligi- ble? If I were to purchase a “flesh- colored” bandage, would it likely resemble my skin color? America may be a very diverse and pluralistic nation.


Our individual settings should not excuse us from acknowledging that racial division in the church is huge.


But we group ourselves in neighborhoods and institutions around people who share our values, tastes and, yes, often our appearance. We choose friends with similar interests or back- grounds. We shop for churches that suit our cultural style. Since most of us spend our time with people who are racially homogenous, we tend to invite and cluster around homog- enous people when building our congregations. This tendency to segment into


like types stands in sharp contrast to the ethnic diversity that helped make the first-century Christian church so robust. Early Christian leaders man- aged to form communities that cut across rigid class and ethnic lines,


making Christ their chief common denominator. We can aim for the same. Reversing the segregation in


gregations limits how much racial diversity in pews is real- istic. But our individual settings should not excuse us from acknowledging that racial division in the church is huge. For those of us who are Caucasian Christians, big ques-


tions about white privilege loom. White privilege doesn’t mean that you (if you are white) are being charged with rac- ism. Chances are good that you aren’t racist, especially if your life shuns racial slurs and jokes, inappropriate judgments of others and a distaste for other races. White privilege is merely a recognition that many of us


benefit from a system and institutions that have been long in the making. If you are white, you were born into a white- default world where a significant number of rights, opportu-


American church history isn’t the politically correct thing to do—it’s the Jesus thing to do. We will have to face the hard reality of the segregated social lives we lead from Monday through Saturday before we have much of a chance at creat- ing the multiethnic communities we’d like to build into our Sunday worship. Developing authentic relation-


ships with people of different socio- economic and racial backgrounds can happen, however. With faith and sensitivity, we can yearn to know and love others who are very much unlike us—one person at a time. 


Author bio: Marty is a pastor of St. Paul Lutheran Church, Davenport, Iowa, and a regular columnist for The Lutheran.


October 2014 3


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