The Ropes Came Down

In the spring of 1953, Billy Graham arrived in Chattanooga, Tennessee, for a crusade and found the auditorium divided — ropes strung down the center aisle separating white attendees from Black attendees, as local custom demanded. Graham walked to the center of the arena, grabbed the ropes with both hands, and tore them down. When ushers tried to re-hang them, he insisted they stay down. "Either these ropes stay down," he said, "or you can find yourself another evangelist."

It was a dangerous stance in the Jim Crow South. But Graham understood something Peter discovered standing in Cornelius's living room two thousand years earlier: God shows no favoritism. The gospel is not a members-only club with a velvet rope at the entrance. When Peter opened his mouth in Caesarea, he made a declaration that shook the foundations of the early church: "In every nation anyone who fears Him and does what is right is acceptable to Him."

Peter had spent his whole life believing God's promises were for his people alone. It took a vision from heaven — and a Roman centurion on his knees — to shatter that assumption. Graham faced a similar reckoning. The good news of Jesus Christ, Lord of all, cannot be parceled out along lines of race, class, or culture.

Wherever we string up ropes — in our sanctuaries, in our assumptions, in our hearts — the Spirit of the living God tears them down.