How women of color with Christian and progressive values are keeping the faith — outside churches

Brandi Brown has yet to find a Black church near her Southern California home that feels right for her. So when she wants to talk about God, she relies on someone over a thousand miles (1,600 kilometers) away.

Like her, Ellen Lo Hoffman, who lives just outside Seattle and is Chinese American, is a progressive Christian. They have known each other through a Christian fellowship for six years. But for the past three years, Hoffman has supported Brown, a former minister, through monthly virtual chats.

“How Black women and how women of color experience God is different than how other people experience God,” said Brown, who is Black. “If I imagine myself, like, sitting on a bench trying to talk to God, Ellen is there too — to sit on the bench with me and point out observations and allow me to interpret things that I’m experiencing.”

For some Christian progressives, the lack of acknowledgement by their churches or ministries of the 2020 racial reckoning was the final push to go elsewhere. Some women of color have been disappointed and upset by evangelical Christian churches — both predominantly white and multiracial — whose leaders failed to openly decry racism or homophobia. Traditional pastors and other leaders often see congregants’ concerns through a patriarchal lens, leaving many feeling dismissed or overlooked. Still, others said they felt alienated by evangelical supporters of former President Donald Trump, with whom they disagree on politics.

Many are now finding solace and reaffirming their faith on their own terms through what they call “spiritual directors,” who are not necessarily priests, pastors, counselors or therapists, but can help others explore thoughts about God or broader concepts around a higher power.

With nearly 24 years of ministry leadership experience, Hoffman has been a self-employed spiritual director for the past seven years. The 2014 death of Michael Brown by a Ferguson, Missouri, police officer was a pivotal moment for her. She gathered staff members of color, as the associate regional director of InterVarsity Christian Fellowship/USA, in a discussion.

Hoffman came away vowing to be a better ally.

So when the murder of George Floyd and anti-Asian hate crimes soon dominated national conversation, Hoffman wanted to do more than march in protests and facilitate bystander training. She said she noticed that a lot of people of color needed “care in the midst of racial trauma.” So with her husband, she created Soul Reparations, a nonprofit providing free spiritual support to women.

“With the people that I was already meeting with, the impact of the racial trauma in 2020 was constantly coming up,” Hoffman said. “And then the people who were reaching out looking for a spiritual director was all women of color looking for spaces to process.”

The sessions are intimate one-on-one chats in person or over Zoom. It’s the client who drives the conversation. Often, there’s no Bible talk or preaching from Hoffman. The discussions can be more philosophical.

“Simply allowing them to tell their story, giving them space to share their pain — is really healing for them and it restores a sense of identity,” Hoffman said. Churches, religious leaders and officials don’t get to “have the last word” on how women choose to express their Christianity.

She has since recruited seven other women of color to serve as directors. In total, they have helped roughly 70 women, including queer women, over the past three years. The demand hasn’t waned. Recently, Hoffman had to close a 60-person waitlist.

That number doesn’t surprise Jessica Chen, of Los Angeles, who virtually meets with Hoffman monthly.

“I do see this kind of movement of women of color who’ve left kind of the traditional church environment to create these spaces for other women of color,” Chen said. “So, sort of reimagining what community can look like for women of color, I think that’s very much needed.”

Only in the last few years did Chen consider she might be limiting herself by only hearing male pastors who have a specific perspective that’s been “universalized,” she said. While her last church was diverse and multigenerational, she felt like she wasn’t growing as a person.

“I want to hear from Black women, Asian women, Indigenous folks … queer folks. What has your faith experience been and how can I learn from your experiences as well?” Chen said. “And I think that makes our understanding and relationship with God or spirituality a lot richer.”

In 2020, Rebekah James Lovett, of Chicago, tried to broach the subject of social justice with her evangelical pastor. She stayed up till 4 a.m. crafting a written plea to him. The pastor met with her but she came away feeling like he was simply placating her.

Raised in Christianity by Indian immigrant parents, she said she came to a realization, “I can’t ever go back” to white, male-dominated churches that don’t consider other viewpoints.

She felt liberated — but also a bit rudderless. Then she heard Hoffman speak on a podcast, “Reclaiming My Theology.”

“The idea of going to a woman who also is pastorally trained was interesting to me,” Lovett said. “Christianity as we’ve been sold it is built on this sense of certainty that somebody has the answer and you just have to look to the Bible and it’s all right there. Whereas for Ellen, there’s this invitation to wonder. That was never there before.”

After adding her name to the waitlist, Lovett became a regular client of Hoffman’s in fall 2021.

Hoffman’s rates for spiritual direction range from $85-$100 per session — or, in some cases, are free. Her paying clients, or “directees,” don’t seem to mind. They liken it to a regular check-up or therapy session.

“I do feel like it is a wellness practice as well as a spiritual practice. It’s something that keeps me centered,” Brown said. “I’m not trying to reach a goal. My only desire is to, deepen my personal relationship with God.”

Many have left churches across the U.S. over the past few decades. Around 30% of Americans identify as “the nones” or people with no organized religion affiliation, according to a 2023 AP-NORC poll. They include atheists, agnostics and people who are “nothing in particular.”

The Rev. Karen Georgia Thompson, who last year became the first woman and woman of color elected general minister and president of the socially liberal United Church of Christ, agrees churches are often patriarchal. They “continue to be exclusive and bring narratives of hatred, diminishing the human spirit and decrying people’s humanity,” she said. While UCC congregations have become more racially and ethnically diverse, Thompson wants to see that diversity reflected at the top as well.

“We continue to include the voices of all in the leadership — as best we can — paying attention to those whose presence and voices have been historically underrepresented in the life of the UCC,” Thompson said in an email.

Spiritual direction has actually reinvigorated Brown to not give up on looking for a church.

“I’m excited about joining a church that talks about justice, that cares about LGBTQ+ people,” Brown said. “I want to be a part of a community.”

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