For Black History Month, Rev. Kevin Smalls writes a heartfelt, honest love letter to The United Methodist Church, which has shaped his life and faith.
REV. B. KEVIN SMALLS
Pastor, Southfield: Hope UMC
Dear United Methodism,
It’s Black History Month! I couldn’t let this month slip away without recognizing your journey and history of being in solidarity with black people. Since Harry Hoosier and Richard Allen, you have given the world some of the best of black preaching, laity, and congregations. We remember too many to name in this reflection.
I, for one, wouldn’t be who I am without you, honestly. You provided me with a historic black church where faith in Christ was introduced. But not just that. You housed an incredible journey of black people who flocked to your altars, saying, “Yes, Lord, Yes.” You held the revival that the enslaved, the newly freed, and their children needed to claim a faith that honored the journey of those who sought freedom and often died doing so.
Within your walls, you’ve housed segments of a nation that often struggled with the concept of racial justice and the path to get there. Depending on where on American soil and when in American history, you have seen your people support segregation while others sought to erase it.
Throughout your history, you have always had groups leave this house for one reason or another. Currently, we have several branches of Methodism that knew you first but found it difficult to sojourn amidst racial inequalities, power struggles, political positions, and variations of visions around church polity and government.
Now, you stand numerically less than the statistical spot you once held: the largest Protestant American denomination. With under 6 million members in The United Methodist Church, you are making your way through a misty and foggy path. On this path, more and more are walking away from not just you but many of your denominational siblings who call themselves “church.” The times are strange indeed.
We are moving quickly and frantically to make sure that you remain standing. Some of us are preparing for an even smaller community, while others are energized by the hope of a newer expression of ecclesiastical life that will spawn new possibilities.
This year for black history, I return to the memory of days gone by when the black church was strong, filled, and instrumental in the denominational quest for equality and advocacy in civil rights and justice. I come to this memory with gratitude and a bit of melancholy as I try to figure out ministry without the voices I’ve relied on for so long, now silenced by eternity’s claim.
This is why I pray that you never shrink from your determination to stand firm on being counter-cultural when it comes to freedom-loving quests. You are now standing in a world where you are often mocked and ridiculed for your theological stance on many things, like “Beloved Community.”
My plea to you is this. Don’t turn back. Don’t get weary. Don’t allow outside political discourse to pull you from those tenets we value so deeply. Don’t allow us to be awkward and suspicious of one another because of our ethnic differences and norms. Don’t make room for the world’s cynicism around the concept of unity, as it fails to resist oppression and evil in whatever forms they present themselves.
The truth is, I still need you. My neighborhood still needs you! Your eleven historically black colleges and universities still need you! Hurting, hungry, and bewildered people of every race still need you!
Bring us back to that one table of conversation, fellowship, and renewed connection. Let us not be swept away by the winds of trending social platforms that we forget our basic work.
Educate the world on the gospel concepts of love, mercy, and justice. Normalize, again, our unity amid the many and various expressions of those who occupy it.
It has been my joy to represent you in the world and in local communities for my entire adult life. From that journey, I know that you are at your best when we are singing, when we are worshiping, when we are serving, when we are learning, when we are honest, when we are confessional, and when we are together.
“Lest our feet stray from the places, our God, where we met Thee, our hearts drunk with the wine of the world, we forget Thee.” (Lift Every Voice and Sing)
It’s Black History Month! You are very much a part of that journey. Sometimes, your growth areas were exposed, while other times, you delivered with power and promise. Either way, our time under God is now!
As for me, I am proud to have been baptized, confirmed, and ordained at your altars. I am proud to be black and United Methodist. I am your son and a product of your witness. With you, I am forever . . . in love.
Last Updated on March 3, 2025