“Sweetheart, I hate to ask, but do you lock your bedroom door at night?” the middle aged white woman, concerned for my safety, cautiously whispered while reaching out for my hand. Her words seemed to spiral in my head and down to my chest as I struggled to respond. “No, ma’am…he’s…well, my brother.” My family had adopted Jerome. He was best friends with my biological brothers, had joined our youth group, and eventually joined my family. Perhaps most notably for this particular story, Jerome is black. While Jerome is my legally adopted brother, I have countless other brothers and sisters wrapped in different colors who have embedded their lives into mine.

It was so many years ago now that this white woman’s question initially disturbed me, but the ghost of her words continues to haunt. I see it, like a shadow, appearing in well-intentioned exchanges between white people. It lurks around the corners of political rhetoric. It resides as a spirit of complacency, fear, and ignorance in our churches. And when I see that spirit of subtle racism, I am deeply disturbed on account of my colorful family. This is the personal dimension of racial unity for me. It is out of these lifelong relationships that I was initially motivated to explore racial unity as a young adult. But now as a churchwoman, as a preacher, and as a scholar I recognize the theological imperative. I see the larger picture of systemic oppression, and I feel a deeper longing for shalom.

A few years ago one of my mentors, Dr. Jerry Taylor, invited me to be apart of a more intentional conversation on racial unity with many other preachers and educators. Out of that conversation developed the Racial Unity Leadership Summit (RULS). I have been honored to serve as a member of the RULS strategic planning team, and as a presenter at a number of our events. Most recently we held two different events in Abilene, Texas. At the end of May we had the Young Scholars Racial Unity Retreat, and at the beginning of June we had a larger RULS event open to the public, hosted by a local church. At both events I observed as people exercised truth-telling, empathetic listening, and fruitful debating. Deep friendships were forged, and together our community chose to take a closer look at the ways racism still thrives in our nation and in our churches. We had no way of knowing that just a few weeks later our conversations would be put to the test.

The act of terror in Charleston on June 17, 2015, rapidly thrust the conversation on faith and racial unity to the forefront. I maintain today, what I professed at both RULS events earlier this summer: our churches will rot if we cannot embrace the fuller picture of the Kingdom of God, and actively work to abolish the nefarious sin of racism from our churches. And the truth is, we cannot abolish racism until we actively seek deep and honest relationships with people wrapped in different skin colors. If the conversation on racial unity is not personal for you, than you have not fostered enough deeply colorful relationships. If the haunts of racism run undetected in your family and in your church, you might be missing an important aspect of following Christ. If your church cannot imagine broadening her horizons to include voices of different colors, different economic backgrounds, or different languages, than you might need to take a harder look at the vision that God casts for us through the ministry of Jesus.

As a young scholar trying to tread deep waters, I often find myself in conversations for which I am unprepared. For you, racial unity may be one of those conversations. If that is the case, I offer to you a few suggestions that I believe will guide us into more fruitful dialogue:

1. Be hospitable. In your words and in your actions, constantly strive to be a person who makes others feel welcomed and valued. Contrary to popular belief, you don’t have to agree on everything! Simply welcome others into your life, and embark on a journey together.

2. Don’t give in to lazy rhetoric. Perhaps you have formed some deep opinions, and you certainly speak from a rooted perspective. Don’t allow cheap shots and name-calling to conceal your intellect. Avoid blanket statements. Do not make a statement for all Christians, or all democrats, or all republicans, or all southerners, or all white people or black people. That is an ENORMOUS burden to bear. Just speak for yourself, and do it well.

3. Take the posture of a student. All of humanity shares in the grueling experience of limited knowledge. We don’t know God fully. We don’t know each other fully. We don’t even know ourselves fully. God blessed us with brains to seek and explore. Chances are, the person next to you has witnessed parts of God and life that you have not. Why would you neglect such a valuable resource? We need to learn from one another. We must anticipate a learning experience.

My hope is that, in the same way that I have been encouraged to dive into the deep as a young scholar and minister, so you too will feel encouraged and emboldened to take the plunge into this complex but oh so important conversation on racial unity. May it become personal. May it be challenging. May it be a blessing. May it bring healing.