I am participating in a grassroots church swap between individual members of predominately white and predominately black churches of the same denomination in Waco, TX over the course of the next year. It is a project of the Community Race Relations Coalition that involves not only switching churches, but reading books about race & religion in America, interacting with authors and scholars, and eventually creating a toolkit that will help others create their own projects to bridge the racial divide in America. Thanks to an amazing grant from the Kellogg foundation & another from the Waco Foundation, we are taking a 4 day civil rights bus tour through Little Rock, Memphis and Tulsa on March 4 – 8 before officially beginning the “church swap” portion on March 20^th.  Those grants also paid for the books we are reading, among other costs.  More information can be found at the main Church Swap blog.

People keep asking what I hope to get out of participating in this racial church swap.  The short answer is that I have no clue what experiences I want to leave with, and I’m here because I feel I am called to do this. Why does a white young woman leave the church she’s comfortable in (and loves) to experience what could be a spiritual desert?  How could that be God’s will for any individual (especially me, God)?

It sounds hyperbolic even when I say it aloud, that switching from my church to another church of the same denomination could be “a spiritual desert”, but the church has always been my safest home.  I came to Baylor in part because I wanted a Christian environment, where it was always safe to be faith-friendly.  On my worst days, I find myself craving a congregational worship experience, whether vespers or small group or pretty much anything, it is my respite.  I’m at some sort of spiritual or church function at least three times a week. Anything that would change my schedule three times a week is a huge change; especially if it involves changing the lens through which I view my life.

It also sounds silly to say that I know God called me to step outside my comfort zone and into a new church even though that’s a pretty common New Testament narrative.  There are more types of Baptist worship than the “Bapto-palian” (half Baptist, half Episcopalian) branch with which I usually associate.  And there are more ways of experiencing God’s presence both personally and communally than just my introspective-leaning faith.  I’m worried I won’t be able to follow Romans 12:15 where believers are called to “rejoice with those who rejoice; mourn with those who mourn” in a new community.  More than anything, I’m nervous I won’t be able to feel God’s presence.

Intellectually, I know a lot of these fears will be alleviated when I actually begin to attend my new church home.  Spiritually, I know that there are parts of my faith that need to be challenged; especially those individualistic strands that keep me only in the company of people similar to me in race, class, and educational levels.  Yet, I’ve never been to a predominately black Baptist Church, and here I am signing up to spend 3 months at one without even “checking it out” first, without even having a choice in where I will swap.

It’s a big unknown, and I’m nervous.  Don’t get me wrong: I’m excited too, but it’s a little hard to focus on that sometimes.