We were taking a group of neighbourhood kids on an outing recently and when we piled onto the bus I (Anthony) sat next to a pair of sisters who I met the day before. As I was talking with them the young boy in front of me turned around and asked me if the girls were my cousins. I stopped, thought for a moment and answered in the negative. These girls were black. I was white. I kept my eye on the boy to see if it was a joke. It wasn’t.

After a few moments of confusion and amusement, I realized something wonderful had just happened. Maybe it was due to the familiarity I shared with the girls, who knows, but for whatever reason this little boy hadn’t realized, or had at least briefly forgotten, that I was white.

Over the past few months the children have been both entertained and frustrated by the differences they perceive between my wife and I and themselves. We wear flip-flops, they wear sneakers. We like rock n’ roll, they like hip-hop. We can choose to leave this ghetto any time, they cannot. There are minute and tragically significant divides that at least refer to the cultural difference, if not define it.

Charlotte 614 is currently a predominantly white outpost ministering in a predominantly black neighbourhood. We are endeavouring to realise Godly relationship and Christian community amidst, and despite, racial and cultural barriers. And for a few moments at least, as far as this young boy was concerned, these little girls and I were family.

Here there is no Greek or Jew, circumcised or uncircumcised, barbarian, Scythian, slave or free, but Christ is all, and in all. Colossians 3:11

Anthony Castle