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A Faith that Looks like Me

I grew up in a Christian home, with parents who were deeply involved in our local church, and who encouraged my siblings and I to be active members from a young age. I cherish the lasting influence church involvement has had on my life, and view it as a direct result of the faithfulness of my parents. From Sunday church services to weekly family Bible studies, faith was woven into all our family traditions, and has remained a central anchor in all our experiences. Racial justice – or a lack thereof —has also been a central characteristic of my personal and family experience. An African immigrant family to Canada, our experience included living in early post-Apartheid South Africa and then settling into a new culture in Canada. Consequently, cultivating points of connection and dialogue between my faith and racial violence is deeply important to me. This conversation is what brings me to Do Justice.

My family’s journey taught me that the God of my parents transcends all borders, and was big enough for the diverse people within them.

My family’s journey, which took us from Kenya to South Africa, and finally into Canada, taught me that the God of my parents transcends all borders, and was big enough for the diverse people within them. However, even within an upbringing rooted in faith-based community, racial violence still made a monumental impact on our journey – and yet my parents never failed to model faithfulness. When I speak about race-based violence I am speaking about more than overt expressions of discrimination like police brutality, systemic discrimination, or even income inequality. Beyond this, I am speaking about the everyday, subtle experiences that present Whiteness — that is, white skin and Euro-western cultural expressions — as the normal standard of being.

In an earlier article, “Becoming Aware of My Privilege”, Jim Payton describes coming into an awareness that most people in his faith community “looked like him.” This awareness led him to ask questions about who was missing, and finally, to draw conclusions about White privilege. Reading this reflection offered me insight into an experience so opposite from mine, and created space for dialogue on the ways we process cultural difference in our faith communities.

I have a distinct memory of colouring in a children’s Bible story book with a friend during a Sunday school service in South Africa.

In contrast to Jim, I distinctly remember noticing the opposite; rarely did the content and leadership in my church communities reflect my Black skin. Even though my childhood experiences of church were within an African context, from as early as I can remember, Whiteness characterized the way I and the other children around me came to understand our faith. White-skinned characters made up most faith-based content circulated in my Sunday school classes; including Bible characters, Christian children’s books, and even puppets. Furthermore, visiting White missionaries would commonly held the seat of highest authority. Such authoritative representations of Whiteness in my early faith experience led me to doubt the belonging and value of my dark skin.

I have a distinct memory of colouring in a children’s Bible story book with a friend during a Sunday school service in South Africa. I remember hesitating when deciding which shade to use on a Bible character’s skin. Noticing my hesitation, my friend told me to use ‘flesh colour’, and handed me a peach coloured crayon. I remember feeling a slight confusion because both my friend and I had dark skin – wasn’t our skin ‘flesh coloured’? In my memory, I pushed away my confusion and continued with the activity, using the peach colour. Over the years, I have reflected on this and other such experiences as examples of the way children of colour become conditioned to view themselves as “other”— out of the ordinary, outside of belonging.

I take solace in the fact that I, as a Black teacher, offer an important element of diverse representation and leadership.

In my adult life, I have stayed connected to church, serving in children’s ministry for the past 5 years. Members of my church attend from diverse communities, making for a wonderfully multicultural service experience. As a Sunday school teacher, I’m inspired by my childhood experiences to not only provide kids with tools for a strong faith foundation, but also for a culturally diversified reflection of the faith that represents their many backgrounds. Even within a contemporary, well-resourced, and diverse church, teaching materials such as books and resources continue to lack diversity, rarely presenting non-white characters. This is not a problem specific to my church, but often reflects the lack of representation within the greater Christian resource industry, in which these materials are produced. I take solace in the fact that I, as a Black teacher, offer an important element of diverse representation and leadership; however, my heart is always troubled at the message a lack of diversity in faith-based resources delivers to our youngest and most impressionable believers.

[Image: Flickr user Nathan Gibbs, under Creative Commons license]

The Reformed family is a diverse family with a diverse range of opinions. Not all perspectives expressed on the blog represent the official positions of the Christian Reformed Church. Learn more about this blog, Reformed doctrines, and our diversity policy on our About page.

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