Is the dream of a diverse Western church fading?

I’m particularly struck at how much it feels like a significant season to write my first article for Evangelicals Now.

I am humbled and shaken by recent shifts in the global political landscape, and I hear similar sentiments from friends who look and sound like me: young(ish), Black, African, Christian and resident in multi-cultural cities in the West.

In the past half-decade I have seen these friends rising, albeit slowly to leadership positions in the church, owing probably to decades of prayer from their faithful, long-suffering immigrant parents. There was hope that the church would look like something from bygone ages, the church in Antioch, perhaps, where “every nation, tribe and tongue” were represented, willingly working together for the glory of King Jesus (Revelation 7.9-10).

A new wave of identity politics

Yet, the silent triumphalism that accompanies a new wave of identity politics is significant. In the West, making certain countries great again has replaced the cry asking which marginalised lives matter.

I feel it; my working life feels precarious as I seek to help all colleagues have healthier conversations about race in the workplace. I feel it as I nervously anticipate the ripple effects of this new wave on the church movement in which I am an ethnic minority. Will we regress? Will we stop trying to engage with the issues of race and culture? Will I see more people, including people who look and sound like me, decide to give up, move out of London, live a less sacrificial life, and abandon their excitement to integrate church life to the category of “fun while it lasted”? Will we grow backwards, to a church content with being segregated by culture, with West Africans in one corner, South Americans in another, and the White British-led conservative evangelical church in another?

As an introduction to myself, I am a Black African woman who is currently balancing change management work in Parliament with a part-time role as a women’s worker in my church in Stratford, East London. I hope that all my work is gospel-centred, that I am a light in a dark world as a Christian who holds to conservative views on life and sexuality, but progressive views on welcoming the marginalised. Nigerian-born and East-London bred; I understand viscerally that this world is not my home. I believe that the church is the greatest idea and hope for the world. And I believe that God has much to say to the church today through His Word and His people about how we can keep shining as the city on a hill we ought to be. I’m hoping that as I write I can encourage us to stay true to our sacrificial intentions, by checking our unintentional biases about people of different ethnicities, classes and castes.

Hope in Him

So, as I keep watching and waiting for fatigue to set in, what gives me hope is that Jesus is, frankly, alive. If He has the power to defeat death, He also has the power to keep us talking, listening, and humbly moving towards one another.

Jesus knew that this would be the challenge of our lives, which is why He prayed for our unity in John’s gospel. As His followers, He prepares us to count the cost of stepping away from our instincts towards self-preservation and to make room for others. This call feels more relevant today - in our post-Christian, neo-nationalistic era - than ever.

But the fact that He rose from the dead reminds me that He has the power to bring the hearts of countless Christians to do the hard work of loving across cultural divides, to bring about His kingdom. It also reminds me that He has the power to bring about the sweet future reward that will come for those who do not grow weary of doing good by loving the stranger. As a follower, my hope is that Jesus rose, Jesus calls, Jesus has the power.