We have been intentionally focusing on Ethnic Diversity in City for the last year. By now, many of you might be thinking, "when are we going to move on?" "How long are we going to talk about this?"
I remember thinking this at [a Cru® conference] a few years back. I was tired. I was wondering why the ethnic issue was so prominent in our meetings. I was tired of talking about it and tired of addressing the topic. I felt like I had to apologize for being a white man. I was tired of watching what I would say, of not knowing what to say, of apologizing for what I didn't say. I was conflicted. I was tired. I still am. Even writing this today has been a struggle. What do I say? How honest should I be? Will I offend a dear friend? Will I be misunderstood?
As I have listened to my ethnic minority friends, they are tired too but in a different way, wondering when or if they will see some results, some action, some significant decisions made by our leadership and staff in general.
The core of the issue for me though is not just being tired. I am uncomfortable. Often I think, "Can we talk about this after we accomplish some goals and objectives? Why don't we talk about this next year?" It's like I want to stop reading the chapter of a book since the story line is not progressing as I think it should. I want to end the conversation and enjoy some talk about what we are really good at…reaching the world. Let's move on already.
There is something significantly different between my view of this discussion and the viewpoint of my ethnic friends. I can close the book, I can exit the room, I can end the conversation and move on with my ministry and life. I can take a break from the uncomfortableness of it all.
It's not so easy for my ethnic brothers and sisters. They are reminded that the chapter still has little real resolution, the door to this room is seemingly closed and they are inside wondering if I really understand. They continue the conversation long into the night as they are constantly reminded — reminded that they could write chapter upon chapter describing how they have experienced hurt and pain. They continue to accommodate their well-intentioned friends like me who are unaware of the doors of privilege that are naturally open to them in ministry and life, in support and church, in Cru and even on their teams.
So here I am, uncomfortable. I don't like it. I long for comfort, and I avoid things which bring discomfort. But this is so antithetical to following Jesus. He became uncomfortable. He left the all the rights and privileges as Creator, to indwell a body he could not easily run away from, as He was moving headlong towards the cross. Jesus chose to follow the Father chapter by chapter; he didn't close the book and "move on with it after all."
He did not count equality with God a thing to be grasped, but emptied himself, by taking the form of a servant, being born in the likeness of men. And being found in human form, he humbled himself by becoming obedient to the point of death, even death on a cross (Philippians 2:6-8).
He calls me to nothing less. My attitude should be the same as Christ Jesus who was willing to be uncomfortable for my sake, for my salvation.
So when will this conversation be over? I don't know the answer to that, but I must repent of my desire for comfort and embrace the life of our Savior — a life of discomfort for the sake of bringing the Father glory.
Will you join me in this journey of discomfort, of embracing and trying to understand the pain and hurt our brothers and sisters experience daily? Will you join me in trusting Jesus to see us through this journey and trusting Him for healing, for change and for things to be made right for everyone as we take His message of salvation to our cities? This message came at a great price. Thankfully Jesus chose discomfort. Today I will too.
Previous Posts
• What Does This Mean?
• The Wrong Question
• A Step and a Foot in the Door
Tom Goodwin serves as Executive Director of Cru City.
©1994-2024 Cru. All Rights Reserved.
