They say the first step to recovery is admitting you have a problem. Well, it took me a long time to realize I had a problem. Not only was my ethnocentricity not a problem to me; I thought it was a wonderful way to define myself- as ethnocentric, proud of my heritage and comfortable in my skin. And I am. I love learning about African American history, about inventors and leaders and achievers. I love learning about my own African American history- where my family is from, the trials they endured, the successes they enjoyed, the stories they passed down from one generation to another. I'm in love with my heritage and all that my black body represents- struggle, strength, patience, hard-work, love. 

While all those things are good (and I have every intention of passing these stories on to my future children) when I was in college I had a significant revelation: I invested so much into my own culture that I had closed off any interest or opportunity to explore and understand the histories, cultures, and leaders of any other ethnic group. Though I never would have said it aloud, as I looked at my life, I realized that I was treating my culture as superior to anyone else's. I was only eating "my" soul food, listening to "my" gospel music, attending "my" black church, hanging out with "my" black friends (and the white ones who also loved "my" culture), I only dated black men, only hung posters with black folks represented and devoured books that exclusively discussed the importance of black leaders. My whole world revolved around being black. I was a Christian, and yet my world did not at all reflect the truth of God's love for every nation, tribe and tongue. If you looked at my life, you'd think God only loved black people and tolerated everyone else!

Now the whole truth is that I am still recovering. Sometimes I still get caught up in feeling the need to assert my culture when whiteness is normalized, retreating to the comfort of my culture, or racializing conversations. I don't think these are always bad things, but I have to be careful not to make blackness the center of my life. I have to be conscious about studying other cultures, other leaders, other issues in the world. I have to be purposeful about trying other foods, making new friends, investigating more and more and more. I have to follow through on promises I've made to myself, like learning to speak Spanish. I have to be disciplined until a multicultural life is completely normalized for me. I believe that is the life God has called me to; the closer I get, the more alive I feel. 

Hi, my name is Austin, and I am a recovering ethnocentrist.

When I was a teenager my father told me that ministry work falls into three categories: 1. Planting the seed-  being the first to tell someone about Christ. 2. Watering the embryo- having the opportunity to minister to Christians still learning about the depth of God's love. 3. Tending the plant- helping someone mature in their faith. This was a really simple but useful tool for me as a teenager- trying to be a good friend, set good boundaries, and have healthy expectations of myself.  

I recently realized that my father's tool can also describe the relationship between a reconciler and the organization where s/he works.

1. Some of us work in institutions that need a seed. The organization isn't quite  persuaded that reconciliation is a relationship worth pursuing. It is an organization that has been just fine maintaining its homogenous culture, and you are likely interrupting this comfortability. If you find yourself demanding new songs, new speakers, new teaching materials, new outreach ministries, and no one understands why, you are planting a seed. This stage for a reconciler can be extremely frustrating if you don't realize that this is your role in the life of the organization. It is not wise to expect a plant to sprout up, if you are the first voice giving credence to this thing called reconciliation. Planting requires a great deal of patience- answering questions, casting vision, breaking and tilling ground for the work of the Holy Spirit. It also requires a great deal of fortitude. You may have to plant a lot of seeds before even one takes root. 

2. Others of us work where the little embryo needs to be watered. These are institutions that believe in the vision but aren't quite sure how to make that vision a reality! Watering the embryo often requires placing structure around the values of the organization's declared commitment to reconciliation. Reconcilers are often coalition builders- finding advocates within the organization, bringing them together into one cohesive group, making an abstract vision practicable. Watering the seed first requires a certain amount of trust in your leadership and the vision they have embraced (and yes, some evidence of growth on their part). Consider, if you are convinced that you are planting seeds, but your organization is wanting action steps, you might miss the opportunity to move the vision forward. Harping on what the organization "needs to do, believe, or become" instead of helping them do it, could be an exercise in frustration for all involved.  

3. Then there is the work of tending to the plant. In my experience this is the life span that most reconcilers long for, at least in theory. We all want to work for the organization that "gets it", that has a structure, that has figured out the lingo, that stands as a model for others. But even tending the plant can be difficult. Organizations that need tending run the risk of thinking their growth is complete. I once owned a plant that had to shed its lower leaves in order to keep the plant healthy and growing. Growth meant death for that plant. The same can be said of tending an organization- perhaps the leadership structure needs to be changed, or money needs to be reallocated, or privilege needs to be challenged. Tending the organization is a process that often involves sacrificing the systems, structures, policies and powers that the organization is most reluctant to challenge.  

I wonder if you might consider which stage describes your organization. Is your organization a seed, an embryo or a plant? Are you treating it that way? Have you been trying to water a seed before its in the ground? Are you frustrated that the embryo isn't turning into a plant fast enough? Are you tending the plant or just content to enjoy its beauty?  

What about your gifting? Which role are you best to suited to embody as a reconciler? Are you best at planting seeds within an organization? Should you be watering the efforts of an organization? Or were you made to tend an organization into maturity?

Wherever you are, whoever you are Plant, Water, Tend, for this is the work of a reconciler. 

This is great! If you are regularly involved in conversations about race or facilitate them among others, you should have this information in your back pocket at all times! Click on the title or image below to see the full document. 

28 Common Racist Attitudes and Behaviors

A couple weeks ago I participated in leading a Vocational Retreat for a group of young adults who are living in Chicago. This group of young people have chosen to spend a year of their lives in service- working with children, partnering with churches, living in community, enjoying the city, and exploring their calling. The latter is where I had the pleasure of joining their conversation. And we asked a ton of questions! 

• How do I know if I'm pursuing God's calling or my own ego?
• Will I ever know if I'm really ready to pursue my calling?
• How do I prepare myself for setting boundaries since I already feel so closely connected to the issue I feel called to pursue? 
• Why won't God take away all my fears about pursuing my vocation?
• How will I support myself if I pursue my vocation? (We decided that we at least want to afford cheese and crackers for dinner.)
• What am I supposed to do when God puts up a stop sign, when I thought I was pursuing His plan rather brilliantly?

As they revealed how they journeyed from their childhood dream to their current dream vocation, there was a common occurrence. We called it "the stop sign". At some point each of them was on the path of pursuing a specific dream, when all of a sudden there was a dead end, a closed door, someone said no... a stop sign. We learned that for each of them, it was this stop sign that caused them to pursue another dream, ultimately leading them to their vocation. Unfortunately for us all, the stop sign feels a lot like devastation. When we reach a real stop sign, we simply decide which direction to go- left, right, forward. There is very little emotional connection to this common pause in life. But a stop sign while pursuing a dream feels more akin to driving off the cliff (or maybe thats just me).  

Hence how we arrived at the need to spend a little more time sipping margaritas with God. Pursuing a vocation that somehow involves using the threads of justice, church, pain and conflict to weave something that resembles goodness, community and life is intense. It's intense to ponder, let alone pursue. So we need to take a couple time outs. When the stop sign comes, don't freak out. Don't drive off the cliff. Embrace the pause, and sip a margarita with God. 

Despite all of our questions and the anxiety that comes with them, we affirmed with one another that our peace can be found in God. It is ultimately Him that we pursue, not the vocation itself. Our image of the margarita has little to do with the alcohol content, and more to do with friendship, community, peacefulness, and maybe even a little fun! Anytime I am sipping margaritas with friends there is a lot of laughter involved. Imagine that- laughter with God, tossing your head back and not being afraid to say exactly what you think, exactly how you feel. Imagine pouring your heart out conspiratorially with the God you love.

We imagined ourselves leaving the devastation of the stop sign, laying down the intensity of the pursuit and resting in Him- perhaps even over a margarita! Thanks, Dwell Chicago, for reminding me to delight in God.