How A Small Step Of Faith Started My Journey Into Ethnic Minority Ministry

2002 - Our family in South Africa

"Truly, I say to you, if you have faith like a grain of mustard seed, you will say to this mountain, 'Move from here to there,' and it will move, and nothing will be impossible for you." ~ Jesus, Matthew 17:20

As a white man that has had a vocational ministry focus of working with ethnic minorities (mostly African Americans college students) for most of my adult life, I'm often asked how God has led me on this journey. Here's my story...

One of the most pivotal experiences of my life took place when I was 23 years old. It was one of those times that as I look back on it, I can see how the trajectory of my life changed because of a simple, yet profound decision that was made.

It was February of 1997 and I was at a small regional Impact gathering in Detroit that was designed as a follow-up to Impact '96, a national conference primarily geared towards African American college students. I, along with another white Cru staff member, took a handful of African American students from Kent State University to join with like-minded people and discuss what it would look like to have an Impact movement on our campuses.

There was much I appreciated about the weekend. I loved the vibrant praise & worship that we experienced. I was blown away by the vulnerability that students demonstrated as they shared about the ways that God had moved in their lives and the places He had brought them from. I valued the rousing preaching that I heard and the deep concern for college students to live out their faith in the context of their community resonated deep within me. However, there was one little problem. I was white! I silently asked myself, "What difference can I really make? I agree with everything that is being talked about but I'm not black. What can I do?"

And then during a time of concentrated prayer, I felt like God was speaking to me. It was as if he was saying, "You can start by making a difference in your daily life. You hear jokes and comments that you know to be racially insensitive and you do nothing. Start by addressing those things among your friends and family." At that moment, I committed to address the injustices that I saw in my circle of friends and would leave the results to God.

Within days of having returned from this weekend conference, I was put to the test about whether I had truly meant what I had committed to. While watching a television program together, a friend made the following comment about an actress: "She's not bad looking for a black woman." As my heart raced, I knew I needed to say something. But a number of questions bounced around in my head: How would my friend respond? Was I overreacting? I mean, he didn't really mean anything hurtful by that, did he?"

I decided to to take a step of faith and say something. I explained that while he didn't probably mean anything negative by it, his comment could be interpreted as racist. His comment implied that most African American women were not attractive and he was a bit surprised that here was someone that he considered beautiful. I was bothered by his perspective and explained why.

We ended up having a really good conversation and I was even able to bring up some other things that he had said in my presence about African Americans that I was troubled by but had not said anything. It was what could be considered a "teachable moment." Both for my friend and for me.

He was forced to do a heart examination and come to a realization that he harbored some attitudes and prejudices towards African Americans that he wasn't even aware were present.

I learned that when I confronted injustices that I saw in a spirit of grace and truth that God could work through that to make a difference in black/white relations. Amazingly, God had used me to make a small difference about these issues that were so important to me!

From there, I sought to take small steps of faith to make a difference right where I was located. I helped to be a part of the birth of Impact at Kent State, a movement that is still in existence to this day, and eventually other campuses in northeastern Ohio.

I staffed a missions trip that summer of '97 in Virginia Beach in which ethnic minority ministry and racial reconciliation were part of the focus. (I met my wife, Lori, that summer and I've been so thankful that we've been on this journey together all these years.) In addition, I began to see God use me in the lives of other Cru staff members and students to increase awareness of issues of race and culture and to be an instrument of racial reconciliation.

And I've been seeking to take those small steps of faith for the past 16+ years. This journey has led me to places and people I would have never imagined. I now have the privilege of leading in a respected national organization that, while improving, has much to learn when it comes to these same matters of race, culture and justice. As part of my responsibilities, I get the opportunity to invest in ethnic minorities leaders so that they can be all that God has created them to me and to help majority culture missionaries become better equipped to minister cross-culturally.

While there has been much joy in my ministry experiences, there has also been pain. I've made mistakes along the way and have unintentionally hurt others by the things I've said and done. People of my own culture have made judgments about me because I don't fit the box they sometimes want to place me in. And since I'm regularly in cultural settings that are not my own, I experience heightened fears of accidentally doing or saying something offensive.

I wouldn't say that my ministry calling has been easy or comfortable. In fact, it has stretched me in ways that I haven't even considered. It has often been a very lonely existence where I frequently feel out of place and never fully at home. But the privilege that I've had to learn from friends of other cultural backgrounds, to taste some of their life experiences and to hear their stories? I wouldn't trade that for anything.

God has worked in my life as a white person to be involved in the lives of ethnic minorities in ways that I didn't think would be possible back when I was 23. And I truly believe that I'm a better Christian and a better person because of it.

And it all started with a small step of faith.

Kent State 40 Years Later

It was forty years ago today that tragedy fell upon the sleepy northeastern Ohio campus known as Kent State University. By the end of that day, four students lay dead, with several others having received gun wounds. Their injuries came not at the hands of terrorists or renegade gunmen, but from the Ohio National Guard.

I was not yet born when the Kent State shootings happened but, in some small way, I do feel a connection to what happened on May 4, 1970. Having served as a campus minister at Kent State for six years, I've spend a lot of time on the campus. In fact I proposed to my wife on campus not too far from where the shootings took place. Even though the deaths of Jeff Miller, Allison Krause, Sandra Scheuer and William Schroeder happened forty years ago, the tragedy in which their lives were taken still casts a pall over the campus.

When I moved to Kent, Ohio in 1996, the university was still in the processing of forming its identity in the wake of the shootings. On one hand the school sought to distance itself from the killings; on the other hand, it embraced its place in American history. Having become a symbol for the Vietnam war protest movement, at one point the school dropped "State" from its name and changed the logo in an attempt to form a new identity. In time, though, the name "Kent State" was welcomed back and it seems like the campus and its surrounding community has somewhat come to grips with what happened there.

For a look back at what happened and some of the details on May 4th, USA Today has a nice article here and a picture gallery here. For those that are part of the Kent State community, the shootings will always remain a part of the fabric of the university. But I hope that as the years continue to pass that the anger of the past will give way to forgiveness, healing and restoration.

* The iconic photo included here was taken by then-Kent State student John Filo.

Eerie Similarities at Kent State

Kent State University is a place that is dear to my heart. I spent six years there as a campus minister, established a number of lifelong friendships and began my married life with Lori there. In fact, it was on front campus on a sunny October afternoon nearly twelve years ago that I asked her to marry me.

It is because of my fondness for Kent that I was disappointed to learn about the student-led riots that took place this past weekend that led to tense altercations with police and multiple arrests.

It is almost 39 years to the week that tragedy fell on the campus on May 4, 1970. On that day four Kent students were killed by bullets from the National Guard during a protest of the Vietnam war. Four decades later this event remains one of the primary symbols of that era of American history.

The most recent disturbance seems to have been a party that got out of hand. Near the end of final exams students often want to blow off some steam and alcohol is typically involved. A recent article on KentNewsNet.com outlines what happened, but it sounds like there were a lot of students partying outside, the police showed up and then exerted some force by firing rubber pellets into crowds (This imagery at Kent is chilling). The students responded by starting some fires.

Although this type of behavior is not acceptable anywhere, Kent State is a unique place because of the 1970 shootings. Those events still play a pivotal role in the image and life of the university. The shootings define Kent, Ohio in much the same way that Dallas is linked to President Kennedy's assassination and Memphis is remembered for the murder of Dr. King. Students that weren't even born yet know the history of the shootings and the university and law enforcement haven't forgotten either.

I learned very early on during my time at Kent that you needed to hold your opinions about the May 4th shootings to yourself. You never knew when you would be talking to a student whose mom was in the crowd of students or whose dad was in the National Guard on that fateful day. I hope that both current students and present law enforcement would learn from their history in order to prevent another senseless tragedy from happening in that quaint northeastern Ohio town that I love.