Leading a congregation in today’s climate is uniquely challenging. Even before recent global events, the difficulties of modern ministry were well-documented, yet pastors now face increasingly polarizing decisions. From determining safe reopening protocols to addressing systemic injustice, leaders are navigating an era of extreme division where external stressors act as a multiplier for congregational frustration.
I have encountered significant feedback regarding the frequency and nature of my recent messages on racism, shared through both social media and worship services. This criticism, primarily from within my own demographic as a white pastor, is a experience shared by many peers in ministry. To support others navigating similar tensions, I want to provide a snapshot of my approach to addressing racial justice in church while responding to critiques from within the community.
Critique No. 1: Eric, isn’t every person and race important. Why single out one race?
Consider this illustration: if one of my daughters were hurt while playing outside, my immediate rush to her side wouldn’t diminish my love for my other child. By focusing on the one who is suffering, I am not suggesting the other is less valuable; I am simply responding to an urgent need. This perspective is essential for those committed to embracing color in ministry and caring for the members of our spiritual family who are hurting most.
Absolutely every single person and race is important. But not every race is feeling the weight of oppression and the sting of racism. We have nine black brothers and sisters on our staff at Mariners. On Tuesday we had our staff check-in—digitally as our team is working remotely. Our team wrote into the chat prayers for each person. And then we heard from our black brothers and sisters, as they shared how they are feeling. It was impromptu and it was powerful. The stories were painful and beautiful—painful because of the immense hurt in our brothers and sisters and beautiful because of their faith and courage. And their stories are not my stories. When Kaye tells me to “be careful” when I go on a bike ride, she is only referring to me not falling from my bike. This is not the case for my black brothers who ride their bikes. I have not had people move to the other side of the street or been called names because of the color of my skin. Though I can’t fully relate, I can and must mourn with those who mourn.
Critique No. 2: Eric, let’s be colorblind. Pointing out our differences is divisive.
God is not colorblind and neither should we be. Our differences are beautiful because God designed them to show off his glory and creativity and to receive worship from every single group of people. In the first book of the Bible we see God’s promise that people from all races will be made happy in Christ (Gen. 12:3). In the last book of the Bible we see that people from every tribe, tongue, and nation will be gathered around the throne (Rev. 5:9). In His beautiful and creative design, God made every race in his Image. As Christ followers we should appreciate every single race, and insist that every race be treated with respect. To mistreat or devalue a race of people is to disrespect our God.
Critique No. 3: Eric, what about the shop owners and the police? Are they less valuable?
Caring for black men and women is caring for a group of people who have endured a long history of racism. Our police officers and shop owners are not any less valuable and we insist that they be treated with honor and respect too. Both of those statements can be true. They are not contradictory. We have prayed for both the shop owners and police officers in our worship services. Several of our staff attended a peaceful protest this week. The team passed out water to the protesters, gave Grubhub gift cards to the officers, and was ready to help with any cleanup. We care deeply for our officers and want to honor them. We want to affirm the value of all people while also making it clear we are standing with those who are in pain.
Critique No. 4: Why are you being political?
I am not being political. I am being biblical. One of the most thrilling biblical doctrines in the Christian faith is the doctrine called the Imago Dei—or being made in the Image of God. All men and women carry a higher value than anything else the Lord has created. Unlike other aspects of His creation, humanity is able to express—though not fully—attributes of God. We are able to love, make wise decisions, lead and serve, create, walk in holiness, be patient, forgive, and show mercy. Because of the glorious doctrine of Imago Dei, every single person carries inherent worth and value and must be treated with dignity, care, and respect.
C.S. Lewis wrote:
“There are no ordinary people. You have never talked to a mere mortal. Nations, cultures, arts, civilizations—these are mortal, and their life is to ours as the life of a gnat. But it is immortals whom we joke with, work with, marry, snub, and exploit—immortal horrors or everlasting splendors.”
The video images of Ahmaud Arbery and George Floyd are horrific and evil attacks on the Image of God. An image-bearer hunted and trapped in the middle of a street. An image-bearer handcuffed with a knee on his neck for a nauseating 8 minutes and 46 seconds. Not only are those images horrible but what they symbolically represent is also horrible. Black men and women have experienced being trapped and pushed down. Because we must speak for image-bearers of God, we must speak against those images.
This article originally appeared on EricGeiger.com and is reposted here by permission.