Should Every Church Be Multiethnic? A Border-Crossing Perspective

I used to believe that every church should be multiethnic, but my first day of seminary teaching in 2011 showed me the limits of that view.

One of my students was ministering in a hamlet truly lacking racial and economic diversity. Another served in an urban center where diversity was already the norm, and another worked among a minority population for whom church preserved a distinct cultural heritage. These pastors politely rebuffed my multiethnic mandates as laughably impossible, archaic and unnecessary, and even unethical.

I realized at the front of the classroom in a private, white-knuckled panic that I didn’t have satisfying responses to these reasonable objections.

“Shouldn’t every church become multiethnic?” I wondered. “And if not, why not?” Somehow, it didn’t feel right for some churches to be off the hook when it came to including others.

And if multiethnic ideals were not realistic for everyone, then what was I going to teach?

What did God desire for my students and their churches?

That evening, I paced and prayed for wisdom. I considered the course objective of helping students understand the many layers of their local contexts so that they could minister appropriately. Differing contexts—urban and rural, for example—require differing approaches. Students needed that knowledge, for sure.

They also needed skill. If they entered into intercultural ministry partnerships, they would surely encounter puzzling differences and need to navigate misunderstandings. Cultural intelligence and other tools would be indispensable.

Such learning would be vital for every student, as even those in homogenous communities had no guarantees about the future. Local demographics change. And God sometimes calls pastors to people and places they do not anticipate.

“But if it’s just about knowledge and skill,” I prayed in protest, “then how will this course be any different from the infamously underwhelming diversity training programs required by employers?”

As soon as the building was unlocked the next morning, I prayed in the silence of the empty classroom. “What do you want to say, Lord? What do you desire of churches when it comes to thriving in their unique contexts?” Standing behind each chair, I prayed for every student and every church.

Suddenly awash in peace, I realized that the Lord had brought focus. I wasn’t praying that my students’ churches would become multiethnic but that they would learn to look for the overlooked people in their communities, those whom they were neither reaching nor inclined to consider.

That recognition within a holy hush sparked an immediate change in my language and thinking. No longer would I advocate a particular type of church; now I would focus on the wildly inclusive mission of God and the ways human selfishness and cultural blindness get in the way.

That day, I began awakening to the idea of border crossing as a discipline for every believer and every church. I asked my students questions like these:

What constitutes an Us-and-Them border in your community?
Why is it there?
How can a church cross it in obedience to the Great Commission and the Great Commandment?

The change may seem slight, especially since it almost always points to multiethnic solutions. But border crossing expands exponentially the endeavor of including others. In this bigger conversation, no one is off the hook. It recognizes that left to our own devices, everyone—and every church—exists in a cultural bubble of perception, preference, and power that keeps some people in and others out.

I now teach and write to help fellow believers recognize those borders and cross them, sharing the Good News.

Originally published 2015, July 9, by Elizabeth Drury. “More than multiethnic: My awakening to border crossing.” Church Central [blog]. Networld Media Group.