Racial Discourse, Social Engagement, and Misalignment: Assessing the Impact of Multiracial Churches

In 1969 then Evangelical Covenant Church President Milton B. Engebretson wrote an appeal to Covenant churches urging them “to give generously” toward “relief funds for black [sic] America.”¹Hauna Ondrey, “The Covenant Responds to the Black Manifesto (1969),” Covenant Quarterly 77, nos. 2–3 (2019): 3–30.

As my brilliant colleague Hauna Ondrey shows in her paper “The Covenant Responds to the Black Manifesto (1969),” the Black Manifesto, or perhaps more precisely the intentions behind it, was recognized by the Covenant on the whole as important and worthy of attention, even if many did not agree with it in its entirety. The establishment of relief funds bears witness to this. Speaking of the significance of the fund and what giving to it would represent, Engebretson wrote:

This…could be the movement that would force open the gate to peace and understanding which is currently blocked by hatred, racism, and mistrust….We hold the key, in our small way, to share what we have been given, to demonstrate the love of Christ and to help improve the chances for peaceful, orderly development of the world, rather than for increased anger, rage, and violence. See that you excel in this hour of crisis.²Hauna Ondrey, “The Covenant Responds,” 17.

In researching Engebretson’s life and work, I have been struck not only by his passion for evangelism but also by the way he seemingly understood that justice and evangelism do not represent an either-or paradigm; rather, the two go hand in hand. I resonate deeply with this. In my work I am particularly interested in multiracial churches, believing steadfastly in their potential to be a powerful witness to God’s reconciling work in the world and to be sites where racial justice and healing can happen. My research interests are deeply personal and grow out of my desire that all may know Christ and experience his promise of abundant life. I am delighted to be able to share my work with you in this installation lecture.

Study Focus and Background

Today I am going to share some of the findings from my most recent study. At the outset, let me say this work centers on Protestant multiracial churches. Much of the research on such churches, especially the earlier work, has focused on three things: (1) describing them, (2) exploring how such churches sustain their racial diversity, and (3) understanding the racial attitudes of people who attend multiracial churches. In the first category, the work of Michael Emerson and Karen Kim is a good example.³Michael O. Emerson and Karen Chai Kim, “Multiracial Congregations: An Analysis of Their Development and a Typology,” Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 42 (2003): 217–27. Their work produced the 80:20 ratio that has come to be the baseline definition for characterizing a church as multiracial. Sustaining racial diversity is featured in the work of Gerardo Marti, as well as Korie Edwards, and more recently, Jessica Barron and Rhys Williams. Understanding peoples’ racial attitudes finds good exposition in the works of George Yancey and Yancey & Emerson. Recent scholarship has turned a more critical eye toward the impact of these churches on the racial status quo; the work of Jemar Tisby is a good example, and this is where my work is situated.⁴Gerardo Marti, A Mosaic of Believers (Indiana Univ. Press, 2005); Korie L. Edwards, The Elusive Dream (Oxford Univ. Press, 2008); M. Jessica Barron and Rhys H. Williams, The Urban Church Imagined (NYU Press, 2017); George Yancey, ed., What White Looks Like (Routledge, 2004); George Yancey & Michael O. Emerson, “Integrated Sundays,” Sociological Forces 36, no. 2 (2003); Jemar Tisby, The Color of Compromise (Zondervan, 2019).

Research Questions and Method

Having been involved with many different multiracial churches over the past twenty years and helping to plant two of them, I have come to understand that these churches are not monolithic in how they treat race. Thus, it is reasonable to suspect that the impact they are having is also varied.

With this in mind, I came to this project with two research questions. First, how does a church’s racial discourse shape its social engagement? In other words, what is the relationship between the way a church represents race through talk, text, and imagery, and how that church engages with the larger community in which it is situated? My second research question grew out of an understanding that churches can have a direct impact on their communities through their social engagement, but they can also have an indirect impact by influencing congregants who then directly engage with their communities. Drawing on Gregory Stanczak’s work, I define this indirect impact as “engaged spirituality.”⁵Gregory C. Stanczak, Engaged Spirituality: Social Change and American Religion (Rutgers Univ. Press, 2006), 15–20.

Stanczak defines engaged spirituality as a spirituality that both motivates and sustains a person’s social activism. My summary of his argument of the four ways one’s spirituality can become engaged is: (1) as an inheritance from parents and family, (2) by learning about engagement, (3) by a social encounter with injustice, or (4) through a spiritual epiphany.⁶Stanczak, Engaged Spirituality, 15–20. My second research question was: How effective are multiracial churches at sparking engaged spirituality?

Field Examples

I will highlight two notable examples of engaged spirituality that I saw in the field. The first was the confirmation service for five high schoolers at one of the churches that participated in my study. During the service, these young people made faith confessions before their community and shared written statements about what their faith meant to them. These were personal statements, and the students were given freedom in what they chose to write about. And yet, to a person, each student connected their faith concretely to a justice-related issue. And, to a person, each named their church as having been hugely instrumental in helping them make that connection.

Another example came from a Black man I spoke to from another participating church, whom I call Michael. He told me that he had “not really been the marching type” prior to coming to the church. He shared that it wasn’t that he was against marching and other types of demonstrations; he just had never thought anything was important enough for him to participate in such an action. What changed him was, in his words, “hearing a white woman share one Sunday about the protests she had been participating in.” This woman had two young children, and she had been bringing them with her to the marches. Michael shared with me that hearing her conviction and passion sparked something in him and forced him to rethink his position on marching.

Sample and Methods

To answer my research questions, I did a qualitative analysis of four multiracial congregations located in Chicago, Illinois. The four churches that graciously participated in my study were: Revival City Church (Pastor James) located just outside the West Loop; Cornerstone Presbyterian Church (Pastor Nathan) on the Southside; Key Church (co-led by Pastor Jenny and Pastor Freedom Warrior) in the Near North; and Circle Church (co-led by Renee and Richard) in the West Loop. Revival City and Circle Church both identify as nondenominational churches, Cornerstone is a mainline church, and Key Church identifies as multi-denominational. All names (including church names) are pseudonyms.⁷All names and churches in this lecture are pseudonyms; individual participants chose their pseudonyms.

Between October 2020 and May 2021, I conducted forty semi-structured, in-depth interviews and more than twenty informal interviews with congregants. I also spent a total of eighty-six hours in the field as a participant observer (at least one month at each church), attended Sunday services, special services, staff meetings when permitted, and volunteered in ministries when possible.

Included among interviewees were lead pastors, associate pastors, executive pastors (except Circle Church’s lead pastors who were on sabbatical), and congregants who were active in outreach or justice-related ministries. Interview questions centered on how they understood their service, whether they connected service to justice, and what role, if any, the church played in nurturing or sustaining their social engagement. I also conducted a historical analysis of each congregation; both Key Church and Cornerstone have long histories in their communities.

80:20 Presence and “Presence” Criterion

All four churches easily met the 80:20 threshold to be considered multiracial. However, in selecting churches for this study I also paid attention to what I call “presence.” In practice, most pastors do not know the exact racial demographics of their congregations unless those congregations are fairly mono-racial. With the exception of Circle Church, which had a professional survey done recently, none of the pastors I interviewed could give precise breakdowns of race. Even Circle Church’s estimates were still estimates.

The strength of the 80:20 ratio is that it points to the importance of that 20 percent threshold: once a group reaches 20 percent of a population (neighborhood or church), their presence begins to be felt. In my selection criteria I paid attention to whether the presence of ethnic and racial minorities in each church was felt — who the stakeholders were, defined as congregants without formal titles who nonetheless demonstrate ownership in the church (e.g., welcoming newcomers or connecting ministries).

Anecdote: during my first visit to Revival City I noticed a “Book of the Month” table featuring Tony Evans’s book about race that was unstaffed. I stood reading the cover and was approached by a congregant, Dave, who did not hold any official role but who knew who could help me. He introduced me to staff and helped me — an example of a stakeholder who demonstrated organizational knowledge and ownership.

Sample Table (Summary)

Analytic Framework: Moral Projects and Racial Discourse

As an analytic framework I drew on social discourse and whiteness studies and identified two important variables: (1) moral projects and (2) racial discourse.

Moral projects are how a congregation understands its role in the larger world. They can be collectivist (focus on collectivist social goods like community development and structural concerns) or individualistic (focus on individual moral goods like personal piety). A healthy church will attend to both, though most emphasize one over the other.⁸Fred Kniss and Paul Numrich, Sacred Assemblies and Civic Engagement (Rutgers Univ. Press, 2007).

Racial discourse is the whole of how people communicate about race (text, speech, and aesthetic). It is the “negotiated meanings [that] provide a context for thought and action.”⁹Ashley W. Doane, “What Is Racism? Racial Discourse and Racial Politics,” Critical Sociology 32, nos. 2–3 (2006): 255–74. Racial discourse is active; it shapes meanings people assign to racial difference and therefore shapes action.¹⁰Doane, “What Is Racism?,” 255–74.

I broadened discourse to include not only talk and text but also aesthetics — art displayed, service feel, and intentionally shaped space — all signals of who the church is and what it stands for.

Two Kinds of Racial Discourse

In the framework, racial discourse will be either transcendent or justice-oriented.

• Transcendent racial discourse centers the end of the story (oneness in Christ) with little acknowledgment of sinful barriers; such churches may minimize or ignore racial injustice, speaking of diversity mainly as a worship or experiential goal.
• Justice-oriented racial discourse emphasizes unmasking and dismantling racist systems as part of living out oneness in Christ; it is aligned with a structural orientation toward race.

The intersection of moral projects (collectivist vs. individualistic) and racial discourse (transcendent vs. justice) produces a four-quadrant analytic grid that predicts types of social engagement and rationales for engagement. For example, Collectivist/Justice churches are likely to pursue issue-based activism; Collectivist/Transcendent churches may favor outreach framed primarily as evangelism or relational reconciliation.

Findings: The Relationship between Discourse and Engagement

I found a relationship between racial discourse and the form of social engagement in all four churches. All four demonstrated a discourse I label a “discourse of inclusion” — a justice-leaning racial discourse that uses talk, text, imagery, and aesthetics to show genuine concern for the lived experiences of people of color and a willingness to be challenged by those experiences. The shape of each church’s discourse was reflected in their social engagement.

Cornerstone Presbyterian, for example, intentionally uses art to reflect the congregation’s makeup: hymns and art originate proportionally from traditions represented in the membership. Pastor Nathan explained that the aesthetic of the service should reflect the aesthetic of the congregation; this reflection shaped the church’s outreach, which tended to be closely tied to expressed community needs and often run with reciprocity and community leadership rather than top-down charity.

However — and this is central — while racial discourse affected the form of engagement, it did not consistently determine congregants’ rationales for participating. Across churches many congregants described serving in outreach ministries primarily as opportunities to share faith, teach children service, or express gratitude — not always as direct responses to social injustice. This created a pattern of misalignment between leadership rhetoric/practice and congregant motivations.

Misalignment: Leaders vs. Congregants

Going into the field I expected each church’s outreach to slot into one quadrant of my framework. I assumed, based on early visits, they would mostly fall into the Collectivist/Justice quadrant. Instead I found a more complicated picture: leadership and congregants sometimes occupied different quadrants.

Example: Key Church’s weekly food distribution (Christ’s Table) was, for leaders, a justice-oriented collectivist response to homelessness and food insecurity. Most congregants, however, described their participation as teaching their children service, sharing faith, or personal gratitude — not as addressing systemic injustice. One exception was Christine (a long-time member) who remembered the ministry’s origin and connected her service to an inherited engaged spirituality.

This misalignment suggests that assessing a church solely from leadership statements will overestimate the degree to which congregational formation follows leadership intentions. Many congregants adopt more individualistic rationales even in churches where leadership emphasizes justice-oriented collectivist projects.

Distinctives across Churches

Revival City consistently framed its mission as “seeking the welfare of the city” — an explicitly justice-oriented aim that surfaced regularly in services and mission statements. Congregants often named love of neighbor and justice-oriented evangelism as motivators for service. Revival City also consistently clarified what “welfare of the city” meant — linking active love of neighbor with pursuit of justice.

Cornerstone’s reflective aesthetics and embedded community-led initiatives illustrated another justice-oriented pattern: outreach led in partnership with community members and often run by committees composed mainly of community residents (not necessarily church attendees), showing reciprocal exchange rather than top-down aid.

Contributions and Implications

First, my study adds to scholarship that moves beyond internal factors (how churches become racially diverse) toward measuring how multiracial congregations impact the racial status quo. Second, it offers a framework that centers on what churches do (engagement and formation) rather than only what they are demographically. Third, it highlights a practical problem for pastors and leaders: many churches are not sufficiently forming congregants into the justice-oriented values leaders espouse. Multiracial congregations may not go as far as some hope in deconstructing racial stereotypes or changing underlying racial attitudes; one reason is a gap in formation — leaders’ commitments do not always translate into congregational formation.

As a pastor-scholar, I have dual commitments to the academy and to the church. My analytic framework may help both scholars and practitioners to better recognize where churches are making strides and where they fall short. Attending to both discourse and formation is essential for those who hope multiracial congregations will challenge the racial status quo rather than reproduce it.

This article was originally published in the Covenant Quarterly April 7, 2025.

Endnotes

• 1
  Hauna Ondrey, “The Covenant Responds to the Black Manifesto (1969),” Covenant Quarterly 77, nos. 2–3 (2019): 3–30.
• 2
  Hauna Ondrey, “The Covenant Responds,” 17.
• 3
  Michael O. Emerson and Karen Chai Kim, “Multiracial Congregations: An Analysis of Their Development and a Typology,” Journal for the Scientific Study of Religion 42 (2003): 217–27.
• 4
  Gerardo Marti, A Mosaic of Believers (Indiana Univ. Press, 2005); Korie L. Edwards, The Elusive Dream (Oxford Univ. Press, 2008); M. Jessica Barron and Rhys H. Williams, The Urban Church Imagined (NYU Press, 2017); George Yancey, ed., What White Looks Like (Routledge, 2004); George Yancey & Michael O. Emerson, “Integrated Sundays,” Sociological Forces 36, no. 2 (2003); Jemar Tisby, The Color of Compromise (Zondervan, 2019).
• 5
  Gregory C. Stanczak, Engaged Spirituality: Social Change and American Religion (Rutgers Univ. Press, 2006), 15–20.
• 6
  Stanczak, Engaged Spirituality, 15–20.
• 7
  All names and churches in this lecture are pseudonyms; individual participants chose their pseudonyms.
• 8
  Fred Kniss and Paul Numrich, Sacred Assemblies and Civic Engagement (Rutgers Univ. Press, 2007).
• 9
  Ashley W. Doane, “What Is Racism? Racial Discourse and Racial Politics,” Critical Sociology 32, nos. 2–3 (2006): 255–74.
• 10
  Doane, “What Is Racism?,” 255–74.