Tiffany stood behind the counter waiting for the next customer. I stepped up and we talked. She told me she had just moved to Jackson, Mississippi, from a tiny town in the Delta. She was a single mother with one child and had been raised in the church. I mustered up all my evangelical boldness and invited her to our congregation.

"The preaching is great," I said. "The pastor sticks to the Bible. The people are welcoming and would love to meet you." Then I felt compelled to explain a bit more. I didn't want Tiffany to show up and be unpleasantly surprised.

"I just want you to know," I began, "Our church is intentionally multiracial." She stared back at me with a blank expression. I quickly added, "The pastor is black, and the music is excellent. It may not be what you're used to, but just come for a visit."

Tiffany is African American. So am I. Why, then, did I feel sheepish about inviting her to my church, where I am a ...

You have reached the end of this Article Preview You have reached the end of this Article Preview To continue reading, subscribe to Christianity Today magazine. Subscribers have full digital access to CT Pastors articles.

1