Happy New Year.
Over the Christmas season, I shared meals with several young Christian brothers I’ve had the privilege of serving over the years. Each one of them is exceptionally talented, gifted, well-educated, and deeply committed to finding meaningful ways to serve Christ throughout their lives.
Yet, across different tables and conversations, the same question kept surfacing:
How do I serve Christ fully—within my gifts, calling, passions, and education—without becoming a preacher?
That question stopped me in my tracks.
Because nearly fifty years ago, I wrestled with the same struggle.
I knew even then that I was not a gifted orator. Preaching was never my strength. But I was deeply passionate about Christ and profoundly committed to God’s people—especially young people. I understood my calling clearly. What I struggled with was where that calling could live.
Within the confines of the Black church at that time, it often felt as though my passion would be wasted energy—misaligned with a system that appeared to be shifting away from serving Black children and youth and toward the prosperity gospel, individual kingdoms, and the replication of Eurocentric models of “charity.” Too often, we served symptoms through handouts rather than addressing root issues that lead to transformational change.
Let me be clear—this is not an indictment of all churches. I was blessed to witness phenomenal models of ministry in my formative years—people of integrity, passion, and purpose who lived their faith beyond the pulpit. Historically, the Black church has always been a driver of youth development and social transformation. In fact, many of our Historically Black Colleges and Universities were founded by the Black church with the explicit purpose of investing in the next generation—young men and women who would go on to change the world.
As I reflected on my conversations with these young brothers, I realized something had to be challenged—perhaps even dismantled.
So I made a statement that immediately shifted the room:
Preaching should be no more than 10% of a biblically centered ministry.
That declaration opened the door to a rich and necessary dialogue. We began to explore what gospel-centered ministry could look like if it were fully unleashed across every sphere of life.
What if there were ministries specifically designed for hip-hop culture and rap artistry? During my years as a youth pastor, I once gathered nearly twenty members of my church who were actively engaged in hip-hop and challenged them to build outreach to the culture, not away from it.
Then we talked about athletics. Where are the ministries designed specifically for professional athletes? Or for high school and college athletes? In a world where Black men comprise nearly 70% of the NBA, 60–70% of the NFL, 44% of NCAA basketball, and nearly 40% of NCAA football—how is this not considered a mission field?
These are not extracurricular interests.
These are gospel opportunities.
We already know how to educate Black children and youth. The real question is whether the Black church and Black Christians are willing to make education missional. According to the National Black Church Initiative, there are over 150,000 Black churches in the United States. If education were truly valued and mobilized as a Christian mandate, we could eradicate illiteracy in the Black community in less than five years—just as Cuba did, achieving a 99.8% literacy rate, according to the World Bank.
The same is true for health and wellness. What would happen if Black Christian scientists, doctors, and medical professionals collectively aligned their faith, intellect, and research to address the health disparities that disproportionately impact Black communities—not just in the U.S., but globally? What a testimony that would be to the name of Jesus Christ.
From education to government, philanthropy to social work, the mission is clear: empower the next generation of Christians to approach their fields not merely as a means to make money—but as a calling infused with purpose.
But this requires a seismic shift.
We must move our Sunday morning gatherings from being centered solely on biblical knowledge to being grounded in biblical missional calling (Luke 4:18–19). Knowledge informs—but mission activates.
Growing up, signs across the nation read: “Uncle Sam wants you.”
Today, I would reframe that declaration:
God wants you—and needs you.
Not just your attendance.
Not just your tithe.
But your gifts, your education, your creativity, your influence, and your vocation.
If we truly embraced this shift, we wouldn’t just grow churches—we would raise up young people who understand the call of God on their lives and are equipped to use their gifts, passions, and purpose for God’s glory and the good of humanity.
This is my prayer for the new year.
And here’s the curious thought I can’t shake:
What if the greatest untapped mission field isn’t outside the church—but sitting quietly in the pews every Sunday, waiting for permission to be called?
I’m just saying…
I'm Just Saying 