Black, Indigenous, and people of color usually have three broad responses to working in super-majority white Christian spaces:

1. Disengage and let the white people figure out how to “be better” themselves.

2. Be honest with them and point out the things they do wrong,

3. Point out both what they have done and are doing wrong while also giving of yourself to help them “be better.”

In her aptly-titled book See Me, Believe Me: A Guide to Deepen Allyship with Congregational Leaders of Color, the Rev. Dr. Yolanda Denson-Byers, a Black queer woman pastoring in suburban Minnesota, takes the third route. The wisdom she shares is a precious product of years of experience, both horrific and inspiring, while pastoring in the whitest Christian denomination in the United States. But for the challenging nature of what she shares, her reasons for doing so are crystal clear:

"Let me say this again: It is not your BIPOC leader’s job to initiate this work, nor carry it forward. They are already doing their work by agreeing to be your pastor despite the personal costs to themselves and their family. They have answered God’s call to service. Now I beg you to do the same" (Denson-Byers 2024, 26).

Pastor Yolanda doesn’t mince words. White people in the Evangelical Lutheran Church of America—and white, Mainline Protestantism in the US as a whole—need to do more to make the ministries of Black, Indigenous, and people of color in their churches more joyful and less painful. Yet Rev. Dr. Denson-Byers also knows white Christians need serious input from church leaders like her if they ever hope to do so—and she gives it, and gives generously, even as it hurts.

Her pedagogical temperament is everywhere, with the very chapter titles serving as linked chains of directive and observation: I See You. I Believe You. - Safe(r) Spaces - Mourn with Me - Please See Color - Make Reparations - Do Your Own Work. Each simple command leaves little wiggle room as to what must be done. With patient skill, the good Pastor Yolanda uses just about every widget in the Christian educator’s toolbox to make her point. For instance, in using Scripture, she compares white colleagues’ disbelief of her stories of racial harassment to Thomas telling the apostles “Unless I see the mark of the nails in his hands and put my finger in the mark of the nails and my hand in his side, I will not believe” (John 20:25). Pointing to the mundane, but crucial, world of pastoral contracts, she gives multiple reminders for congregations to use “continuing education days as part of your leader’s overall compensation,” “more vacation days or financial support for counseling or spiritual direction,” even “self-care days” (Denson-Byers 2024, 21-22). And of course, the power of the book derives from the many stories shared within it, from Denson-Byers herself as well as her other Black colleagues in the ELCA—stories that are at turns revealing and bone-chilling.

The reading suggestions and discussion questions are plentiful as well, touching just about every nuance in any discussion related to diversity, inclusion, and belonging in the church, from Rosenberg’s iconic Nonviolent Communication: A Way of Life to Paul Kivel’s trusted Uprooting Racism: How White People Can Work for Racial Justice, along with about 20 other articles and blog posts that are easily accessible. Rev. Dr. Denson-Byers regularly adjures her white readers to work with BIPOC-owned businesses when possible, as well as pushing readers to have conscientious, sustained efforts to incorporate BIPOC culture into their church community life. (A particularly luminous example is recounted in chapter 5, “Celebrate with Me.”) See Me, Believe Me is a informational tour-de-force for white church leaders wanting to become better allies to their “congregational leaders of color,” and with its brisk page count it is a work that is not only easily consumed, it is also readily re-read and reviewed.

Often the most stubborn obstacle that white leaders face when seeking to make their spaces more welcoming and inclusive is that they are largely clueless to the distrust and pain that their BIPOC leaders feel towards them, as BIPOC church leaders largely keep such observation to themselves in order to stay safe and sane. But true to her call as a theologian of the cross, Rev. Dr. Denson-Byers shows just how much of a Lutheran she is, lifting high the cross of her ministry for all to see. By doing so, she gives white Christians of goodwill a priceless gift. For white church leaders, the truly bracing insight shared in See Me, Believe Me can give them preemptive awareness and attentiveness of the vulnerabilities of their colleagues of color that can keep white leaders from making some of the most destructive, and wholly predictable, mistakes. For BIPOC church leaders, then, the gift is that instead of having “brave conversations,” conversations which Pastor Yolanda makes clear are largely destructive to our spirits in every way, we can simply hand white colleagues this book—and save ourselves from being the straw that gets broken and the egg that gets cracked for the sake of white education, over and over and over again.

Hence, in appreciation for her labors, the rest of the Evangelical Lutheran Church in America would do well to buy this book, take Rev. Dr. Denson-Byers's insights to heart, and help her and the millions in our denomination to carry the burden of this terrible cross together. By doing so, not only will we bring healing and justice to so many, but will also come all the closer to the risen Christ themselves—full of mercy, pardon, and power—as we rise and fall and rise again in service of the God who loves us.