TAMIL NADU, India — When A. Raju died on July 17 at the age of 89, his family expected to lay him to rest in the village's common Catholic cemetery. Instead, they were forced into a three-day standoff.

According to Christianity Today, higher-caste Christian groups in the village objected to burying the Dalit man in the shared burial ground. With police keeping watch as tensions rose, local authorities and church leaders negotiated for permission to bury Raju there. Bishop Jeevanandam Amalanathan described the protestors — who included fellow Catholics — as "vociferous" in their opposition. Authorities finally forced the opponents to step aside and allow the burial.

Raju's death was not the first time he had fought this battle. He had campaigned for equal funerary rights for all Catholics, regardless of caste, launching a legal case in 2014 with four others. Ten years later, Tamil Nadu's top court ruled in their favor — but that ruling did not stop dominant-caste residents from trying to defy it in July.

The dispute has reopened a painful conversation about caste divisions among India's Christians. Dalits stand at the bottom of India's caste pyramid, historically denied the right to own land, pushed into sanitation and menial work, and forced to live outside villages. Over the past century, many embraced Christianity, drawn by its message of love and equality — and yet, Christianity Today reports, Dalit Christians continue to face discrimination among fellow believers.

Pastors, church leaders, and Dalit activists told the magazine that although Dalits account for at least 70 percent of India's 28 million Christians, they are shut out of leadership and decision-making roles across Catholic, mainline Protestant, and evangelical churches.

Catholics have made some attempts at reform. Earlier this year, the Catholic Bishops' Conference of India elected Archbishop Anthony Poola of Hyderabad — the first Dalit cardinal — as its president. But Dalit representation in the hierarchy remains thin: of India's 200 Catholic bishops, only 11 are Dalits, even though an estimated 60 percent of the nation's Catholics are Dalits.

Among mainline Protestant and evangelical churches, the problem runs quieter but no less deep. "Caste permeates through both mainline and independent Protestant churches too, yet it is implicit and hush-hush," said Richard Devadoss, president of the National Dalit Christian Watch. "Nobody talks about it; that doesn't mean caste is absent here." Leaders in various mainline churches, speaking anonymously for fear of reprisal, said care is taken during selection processes to ensure a Dalit bishop or priest is not posted to lead a diocese or church where non-Dalits dominate the pews. One Dalit pastor in Tamil Nadu said his church committee does not allow him to attend growth meetings, budget planning, or Christmas organizing. "It deeply pains me, but I have no option but to silently finish my tenure here," he lamented.

In some extreme cases, Dalit groups discriminate against each other along subcaste lines. Paul David, a Dalit Christian activist, said one church of nearly 500 worshipers in Andhra Pradesh holds separate Sunday services for two Dalit subgroups: the Malas, historically considered at the top of the Dalit socioeconomic ladder in the region, worship first — and then the Madigas gather for their own service. "This is not a one-off case," David said. "Many churches reflect hierarchy rather than Jesus' core teaching of love and equality."

In major cities, where independent charismatic churches have exploded, caste influence is less acknowledged. "That's because caste gets camouflaged as class," David said. Higher-caste members typically benefit from more education and financial resources. Sagar, a Dalit who has volunteered as an usher for four years at a charismatic church in Hyderabad drawing thousands across three Sunday services, said newcomers have moved into key roles supporting the pastor while he remains in place. "Charismatic and evangelical pastor in India often talk about servant leadership," Sagar said. "What it means is that we are the servants and they are the leaders."

Outside the church, Dalit Christians are caught in a legal limbo. Under Indian law, they cannot claim Scheduled Caste status — which grants access to education and employment opportunities through affirmative action — because the status is restricted to Hindu, Sikh, and Buddhist Dalits. "There is enough evidence to suggest that Dalit Christians experience the same marginalization" as Dalits from other faiths, said Emanual Nahar, professor and former chair of the Punjab State Commission for Minorities. "It is a long-pending issue, and the government must make SC status religion-neutral."

Advocates for Dalit Christians expressed hope that the Raju case would spur further progress toward ending discrimination within churches. As Vincet Raj, a Pentecostal Christian from Tamil Nadu, told Christianity Today: "If we do not shed caste affiliations even after accepting Christ, we should be ashamed of being called Christians."

The apostle Paul settled the matter two thousand years ago: "There is neither Jew nor Greek, there is neither bond nor free, there is neither male nor female: for ye are all one in Christ Jesus" (Galatians 3:28). When the church keeps an earthly caste system at the foot of the cross — and even at the mouth of the grave — she preaches a Christ divided. A church that cannot bury her dead together has not yet learned to live together. The unity of the body of Christ is not a suggestion; it is the gospel itself.