Where to Begin?

If you have children, you’ll know what I mean when I say kids, especially your own, teach you about yourself. I have a talking mirror who follows me around – my son. He is one of the most wonderful gifts God has ever entrusted me, and he is a reflection of me (in more than just his looks). When spending time with him, I experience moments that feel as though I am talking to myself. As you can imagine, some of these moments are quite incredible while others, not so much.

One attribute in particular that really sticks out is the way my son befriends others. He has yet to meet a stranger, and it is no mystery where he gets this from. My son is inviting toward people who look nothing like him, because he was born into a family that believes in the value of diversity.

This is a trait my wife and I both share. At any given time, you may step into our home and see a beautiful blend of different cultures, backgrounds, and ages. Every business my wife or I have started invites a crowd made up of individuals from all different walks of life, and our church is no different. This is simply who we are.

So why all this talk about my son?

The answer is simple and, I would argue, immutable: we birth who we are. It would be nearly impossible for someone to start an organization that successfully builds a diverse group of people if that someone did not also value diverse groups of people.

Christians, this is true of our churches. If we want our congregations to reflect heaven in the myriad of colors that will be brilliantly reflected when we gather to worship Jesus for eternity, we must, on an individual level, value this very same thing. It will not be easy to raise a multi-ethnic, multi-cultural and multi-generational church if those in the congregation do not form relationships in their own lives with others who are different from them.

We should not make the mistake of thinking we can build something that isn’t an authentic representation of how we live our lives.

When we first began our church, I was nervous and borderline consumed with making sure we had diversity represented on the stage and in every aspect of what we did. It wasn’t until a close friend of mine reassured me when I realized diversity was inevitable because of who I am. He told me it would be nearly impossible for me to have a monochromatic church because I did not live a monochromatic life.

Pastors, I urge you: while exterior things are important, please stop focusing on the type of music you play or anything else until you have taken inventory of your relationships. Who do you have over for dinner? Who do you invite into your lives in authentic relationship? What other factors distract you from paying closer attention to who you invite into your homes?

Externals are important, but they will not bring transformation. We can make our communities look “right,” but this will never bring reconciliation to our churches, cities, nation or world. We must start internally.