The work of reconciliation as minorities in majority spaces can be lonely and exhausting. In fact, if we only see this as “work,” chances are we won’t make it to the finish line, but instead will flame out in a fit of (understandable) bitterness like the prophet Jonah. Over the years I’ve often referred to this as the call for minorities to serve as missionaries, seeing the mission field as our white brothers and sisters. My decades long exchanges with people of color trying to live incarnationally among our white siblings, has lead me to conclude the missionary metaphor is inadequate. Sure, there are aspects to the imagery which fit: Cross ethnic/cultural exchanges. Having to learn a new language. Modifying one’s customs. Always having to dial back who you are. But what are we to do when the mission field is supposed to be our home- a place which has been historically formed to be hostile to people of color? A place where we continue to feel the subtle drips of long ago firehoses? As the Asian scholar, Amos Young, frames it- to be a person of color called to the work of reconciliation can induce a prevailing sense of being the “perpetual foreigner”.

I guess I could pull you into my own journey, and inundate you with a litany of sleepless nights, obscene moments where I have been the recipient of overt racism in churches I’ve served, and long walks in the valley of loneliness. But in some ways I’ve already done this in my book Insider/Outsider. Instead, I want to give you some hope. Effective leadership demands a positive attitude. And our attitudes are merely the thermometers of our emotional health. Minority brother or sister, hear me: The effectiveness and longevity of your ministry will depend on you fighting for your emotional well being. As the writer of Proverbs says, we must guard our hearts.

In my decades served as a reconciler, I have found these three things to be absolute non-negotiable’s in nurturing emotional health:

Boundaries:

Missionaries get furloughs- times where they must leave the field and come back to what’s familiar. As minorities we need to take emotional furlough’s. Daily. Some of you are expected to make your church diverse, and to be the answer to the ethnic and cultural ill’s in your community. Listen to me. Have John the Baptist’s words plastered on the walls of your mind, “I am not the Christ.” Stop right now, and say that to yourselves. Say it again. And again. Once you embrace this, you can now put healthy emotional boundaries in place. As a matter of soul care, you have to get away from it. Put the book on race down, and read something else, something mindless. Stop wracking your brain over whether you are a critical race theorist. Stop brooding over the email you received chastising you for paying tribute to John Lewis because he was pro-choice. In fact, delete the email. Jesus didn’t heal everyone, and neither can you. It’s not your calling. Set boundaries.

Permission to Play:

While you’re on emotional furlough, give yourself permission to play. You know what kept me sane twelve years in Memphis, and what keeps me sane today? Jesus and golf! I know you were looking for something more spiritual, but that’s all I got. I never would have made it without these two. In fact, I’m convinced Jesus gave me golf to aid in my emotional well-being. Never confuse hobby with optional. Hobbies are essential. Some of my heroes and mentors in the faith do consistent spa days (you know who you are!), get dirt under their nails gardening, are so good at naps it’s become a sport, vacation well, or attend movies by themselves. They play well, and decades later they are doing well in ministry. This is exponentially more so for we perpetual foreigners.

Homogenous Enclaves:

You also need to give yourself permission to spend time with people who look like you. No, this doesn’t need to be your exclusive community. And of course, one of the most biblical and redemptive things God has done to form me is to experience rich, vibrant community with people who don’t look like me. But the work of reconciliation is beyond tiring. Always having to explain what you meant. Always needing to restrain dimensions of who you are to not offend. I guess what I’m saying is to be a perpetual foreigner is to have a perpetual filter. Well, we need moments to put the filter down. My golf group in Memphis were mostly black deacons. I didn’t have to be culturally measured with them. I didn’t have to tiptoe around them. I could also vent. A four hour unfiltered round of golf, gave me the emotional bandwidth to go back to the office measured. We minorities must have moments where we are unfiltered so we can be filtered.

It’s been said the most important thing a leader can do is to stay encouraged. Do these three things and you will be encouraged, ready to engage our white siblings with great joy.

Let me go. My tee time is soon.