In her book Searching for Sunday, Rachel Held Evans wrote, “I am writing because sometimes we are closer to the truth in our vulnerability than in our safe certainties.” This quote resonates with me, because it speaks to a continual pursuit of authenticity, and a desire for realness that requires us to willingly enter into spaces that may prove uncomfortable. Which is not easy. Not even a little bit. But it is necessary, especially for this conversation.

As I sit down to put these words on paper, I keep coming back to the notion that this is my attempt at communication on a complex and difficult subject. Attempt being the operative word. There is a good chance that I will misstep as I write this article; that I will not explain a thought fully enough, or I will bear down too heavily on another. However, it is my strong belief that the message as a whole is much more critical than any potentially unfortunate word choices. So, I humbly submit these thoughts for your consideration.

I am blessed to work in a congregation that is endeavoring to examine what inclusion looks like – what actual inclusion looks like. Inclusion means that each person experiences belonging and believes that his or her uniqueness is valued, which is reflected in all the decisions that are made. It means that the congregation embraces the inherent value in all voices and seeks to make them an active part of the whole in the way we live, worship, and serve together as image-bearers of God. However, this has not been easy. We are in the early stages of this journey, and some days we do this better than others. And when we falter, we try to find that space of humility and vulnerability in an effort to also find truth.

Because it unmistakably matters. It matters to the work of the kingdom.

So, what does a journey of inclusion look like within a church setting? And what are some of the necessary changes that must be made in order to ensure actual inclusion – not merely representation or assimilation?

Through a series of articles over the next few months, I will explore my experiences as my church moves toward authentic inclusion. And while I do not profess to speak for anyone else, I know that there will be portions of my journey that sound familiar to others walking in similar situations.

My response to the second question is much more complex, because truly accomplishing this requires a complete paradigm shift. It isn’t a simple fix, and the intricacies of a long-standing exclusive system means that this won’t happen easily. But to move past representation and assimilation into inclusion, it is imperative that it happens. So where do we start?

We begin with an awareness of the role that intent and impact play within interactions. One of my colleagues regularly asks us to consider the impact our words or actions have on others regardless of our intent. He further challenges us to move past simply evaluating our own words and actions only on the basis of intention and instead genuinely consider the impact the words or actions have on others. This is an eye-opening exercise for two reasons: first, it compels us to make space for the differences that are central to the person God created each and every one of us to be, and in doing so, we are respecting the presence of those differences in relation to the way others experience us. Second, when we acknowledge the result of our impact – regardless of our intent – we are forced to make a decision. We must either be okay with the impact on the other, or we must seek to change the negative impact by changing our own behavior.

We are trying to change. I am trying to change. And as you might imagine, the movement toward change on this journey comes with much opportunity for self-reflection and growth. However, I believe it is worth it, because if we are to truly live into the command of loving God and loving each other (Matt. 22:37-39) in a way that values the unique perspectives and experiences of each of us, then we must allow space for some pretty significant changes. As David Livermore asserts in Cultural Intelligence, “The journey toward more effectively expressing love for the other begins by looking within.”

As I navigate not only this path of self-reflection but also my role within the system, I have begun to evaluate the natural challenges that seem to accompany this journey of inclusion; it’s an effort to not just talk about the changes that need to be made, but also to help the system actually change.

Challenge #1: Desiring an inclusive environment is not the same as actually being inclusive. Simply understanding and accepting the crucial need for inclusion doesn’t ultimately mean that we are doing a good job of truly living it out. Fostering an inclusive environment requires humility on our part. It requires a level of reflection – both individually and as an organization – that will be uncomfortable. It requires listening to the non-dominant “other” as they share their experiences of not feeling a sense of belonging, and not feeling confident that their perspectives and uniquenesses are valued. But if we can exist in the tension long enough to identify our shortcomings rather than simply brushing them aside, we can reach a point where change is inevitable.

Challenge #2: Creating a space for all voices to feel both welcomed and safe is incredibly difficult. There are countless factors that affect a person’s ability to communicate openly and without reservation, especially in an environment that has not proven to be safe. Therefore, the dominant group must be sensitive to this key understanding and not assume that silence by the marginalized group equals agreement. Silence may be a protective mechanism used to “go along to get along” in what is perceived as an unsafe environment. Otherwise the cycle remains intact.

Challenge #3: Acknowledging the brokenness of the system is required if we wish to change it. Robin DiAngelo states in her book White Fragility, “The key to moving forward is what we do with our discomfort. We can use it as a door out—blame the messenger and disregard the message. Or we can use it as a door in by asking, ‘Why does this unsettle me? What would it mean for me if this were true?’” As we look to the changes that need to be made on the journey of inclusion, chances are that in many instances, these changes feel uncomfortable because they ask us to imagine the system in a completely different way. But if we are to have any hope of truly living out what it means to not exclude others, then we must also embrace challenges and champion change even if it means relinquishing our own place of privilege and power.

Navigating the journey of inclusion definitely means that there are very few “safe certainties.” However, being able to arrive at the truth through a state of humility, openness and authenticity means that we have dismantled and rebuilt the system together, and we will be that much stronger when we do arrive.

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Click here for part two in this series.