I am a Seventh-day Adventist. I love my church. I believe that the teaching of my church paints a beautiful picture of who Jesus is. But my church is not perfect. Like any organization run by people, there are problems, challenges that we face. Two of the biggest, in my view, are issues of diversity and inclusion. We still don't ordain women, even though we recognize that God calls women into pastoral ministry. That's a serious problem, one that hurts these women who want to serve as God has called them to do. It also hurts us as a church, keeping us from the unity that Jesus prayed for.
The other issue is race. In the US, the Adventist church organization is divided into conferences. Most of these are made up of one or two states. However, a number of these conferences are identified by skin color. To say it frankly, we have black conferences and white conferences. Of course, we don't call them by those names. The conferences that primarily serve the African-American communities are called Regional Conferences. They were originally set up to minister specifically to the black community, but have become more multi-cultural in recent years. But they are still predominantly African-American.
The other conferences are primarily white, though most also have strong multi-cultural ministries. Both conferences have Hispanic ministries, Korean churches, and others reaching out to various demographics. But ultimately, the church organization is characterized by racial division.
I understand that there are multiple reasons that this structure continues to exist. The regional conferences are set up to meet the needs of our black members in many ways. One of these is developing young black men and women into leaders, and providing opportunities for them to serve our church.
There have been many conversations through the years about changing this structure. There are many in each of these conferences who desire unity, who see the many problems that come with having a church organization divided by race. But the solutions don't come easy. If the church said we're going to do away with the separate conferences, and come together as one conference, then questions arise. Which of these two presidents will now serve as president - the black president or the white president? Which treasurer will continue in that position? Which youth director? We all value our jobs, our ministries. I truly believe we would love to see answers to these questions, but who's willing to step aside to make that happen? Would there still be leadership opportunities equally for all races?
I appreciate the wisdom and experience from my friend, James Black. James has served as Director of Youth and Young Adult Ministries for one of the regional conferences, and served in this same role at the North American Division. In a recent Facebook post, he spoke on the current racial issues we're facing in this country, particularly in light of the murder of George Floyd. In the comments, someone raised the question, How do we address these questions as a nation, when we serve in a church divided? James answered wisely:
"It is very unfortunate that the system of Regional (Black Leadership-led) Conference had to be established in order for the Adventist message to spread to black communities. Currently, although still titled "Regional" Conference, there are no more all Black membership conferences. Each one has significant diversity and multiethnic groups. However, the greater purpose for Regional Conferences has been to produce quality black leaders. For the whites in state conferences who ask this question, I share the truth that structure will change when they allow a black born southerner like me to serve as their conference president. In most cases the discussion always ends there and I don't have to ask why."
It seems to me that it's time to talk about these things. I'm reminded that the racial issues we see in our country, as evidenced by George Floyd's death, still exist because we haven't been willing to talk about it. When black athletes took a knee to start the conversation, we didn't listen. It's easier to not talk about things that make us uncomfortable, but then the problems remain. They continue as our "dirty little secret." Could this be true in the church, as well? We don't want to have this difficult conversation, so we keep it quiet. We'll talk about racism in our country, but to talk about it in our church structure is a little too close to home. Maybe we've given up and decided there's nothing we can do, so we'll go on the way it is. But is that really okay? Are we satisfied with "separate but equal," which really just means "separate"?
I realize this comes from the thoughts and opinions of a middle-aged white man. Before clicking on "Publish," I'm sending it to some African-American friends whose perspective I value greatly. I want to know if they see these things as a problem, or is there another side of things that I need to see. I want to be part of the solution, one that comes from listening to those whose life experience is different than my own.
I don't know the answer, but I want to be part of the conversation. I've sometimes thought that the issues may be bigger than we can solve this side of Heaven, though I hope that's not true. But if it is, my question is, How do we find unity even within division?
I will always value a conversation in my office started by my friend Lawrence. Lawrence was an African-American man who was a member of the Madison Campus Church, part of the Kentucky-Tennessee ("white") Conference. His daughter was a counselor at Indian Creek Camp, and I enjoyed working with her there. Lawrence came to my office and said, "Do you know what the longest 11 miles in the world are?" Curious, I said, "No, tell me." He replied, "It's the 11 miles between this office and the South Central Conference office (the regional conference, also headquartered in Nashville.)" He continued, "Those 11 miles are so long, no one ever drives that distance. No one from either office ever visits the other, even though we say we're here to do the same thing - minister to this community."
Lawrence was right. We knew the staff at the other office. Every year, the Southern Union would get all the conference personnel together several times. We had meetings every November in Daytona, and we'd enjoy time together. We'd meet together to talk about ministry issues, we'd eat together, we'd play together. I knew the youth directors from all the conferences, and considered them friends. But then we'd go back to our respective offices, and wouldn't talk again until our next union meetings. As Lawrence pointed out, we never drove across town to talk to one another.
I'm thankful for Lawrence. He pointed out my blindness. I was saddened, but what I saw had been true about me. That afternoon, after he left my office, I picked up the phone and called the South Central Conference Youth Department. Lorenzo Shepherd was the Youth Director there, and Roy Parham was the associate. They are fine men of God, who I hadn't taken the time to get to know as I should. I asked Lorenzo ("Shep") if he'd like to get together for lunch. In his graciousness, he said he'd love to. I invited him to bring Roy with him.
We got together at Black-Eyed Pea restaurant over lunch. We spent time talking, getting to know each other better. We talked about our families. We talked about ministry. And before lunch ended, we agreed that we should do ministry together. We didn't have the power to change church structure, but we could get our kids, our youth, together. Over the next few years, we worked together to host a youth rally together every year. We alternated which conference would host the event. We had a black speaker one year, a white speaker the next. Our music represented the diversity of our people.
At the end of the first event we co-hosted, we had many church members tell us thank you for doing this. There was a great hunger for events that would break down the walls of separation within our own part of the body of Christ. To this day, I'm so thankful for Lorenzo and Roy, for their vision and desire to come together.
In the kingdom, we will worship and serve Jesus side by side. Until then, what can it look like here? What should it look like here? Our country is having this conversation, talking about things we haven't been willing to talk about openly. It is my prayer that our church can do the same.
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I wrote the section above about a week ago. Since that time, I've been learning. I spent a lot of time on Google, searching "Black Adventist History." I learned a lot, though it's just the tip of the iceberg. More importantly, I've had some conversations with kind friends. I talked for an hour with James Black, from the North American Division. I've exchanged messages with Lorenzo Shepherd. I talked with Jeremy Winston, our music director at the Kettering Adventist Church. These gentlemen were gracious in sharing their thoughts, their experiences in this area.
My takeaway from this week of learning (and I want to do much more) is that the church structure is not likely to change this side of Heaven, and that may be okay. I've seen a number of social media posts this week calling for separate conferences to be done away with. Interestingly, these posts are all from white friends of mine. I haven't seen this coming from blacks. This tells me that the people calling for this change have good intentions. Their hearts are in the right place. There is a desire for unity. But one has to ask, then, why the members of the regional conferences aren't joining in on this. My friends spoke to this issue.
When we say "Join together," the idea behind it is usually to close the regional conferences and come together in the state conferences. Rarely is it suggested that we close the state conference and join the regional conference, becoming one that way. There's a big difference between these two ideas, and the prevailing view is that the black community should set their structure aside to join with the whites. This continues to show a thought pattern of white supremacy.
To leaders in the regional conference, there is a sense that the conference is looking out for its people. Take the same group of people and put them in a combined conference, but with a white president, and there will always be a question - "Does this person have my back? Are they going to look out for my best interest, along with their own?" Unfortunately, history tells us that this is a legitimate concern. In one of my conversations this week, the question was asked, "Can I trust the people I serve and worship with?" I think it's fair to suggest that those of us in the white conferences haven't always given reason to think they can.
With all this in mind, here's my thoughts on moving forward. The first step we need is conversation. We need to listen to each other, to hear each other's stories. I need to hear from my black brothers and sisters what their experience has been with the church organization. I need to share with them my own battles in this area, as I've wondered what unity looks like in the body of Christ.
Then we need to begin doing things together. In Tennessee, I was so blessed to be part of a work with Lorenzo and Roy to get our kids together. It seems to me that this sort of ministry would be the place to start. If you're a pastor, a youth pastor, a conference department director, what are you doing in ministry with your counterparts in the other conference? Make the phone call, get together, combine your budgets, and make ministry happen together for and with your people. Don't wait for your leadership to take this step. Start at the local church. Start in the Youth Ministries Department. Start with Women's Ministries. Wherever you are, take that step.
At the end of my conversation with James, I asked him, "What does success in this area look like? What would you like to see five or ten years from now?" I absolutely loved his answer. "It doesn't matter what I'd like to see. I want to know, what does God want to do five, ten years from now? His dreams are far beyond mine." (I didn't take notes, so these words are a paraphrase of his.) We need to be in prayer asking God what He wants this to look like. James went on to suggest that the future really belongs to the youth and young adults of our church. To my young Adventist friends, it's time for you to be in prayer on these issues, and to decide what the future of our church looks like. Please, lead the way. Show us unity in diversity and inclusion. There are many of us ready to support you, to stand behind you and with you as you lead us.
Once again, these are just a few thoughts from a middle-aged white guy. I look forward to hearing from others, as together we pray for and take action for the unity Jesus prayed about for us.
