Lack of Advocacy: The Need for CBF to Adopt A Statement Of Affirmation For Those With Disabilities.

          In the Fall 2017 semester, while taking a theology course offered at Wake Divinity by Dr. Voss Roberts, I encountered a lack of affirming language and practices within my own denomination, the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship, concerning those within our faith communities who possess varying disabilities. This self-awareness led to many discussions with those in CBF life both on the state and national level. This post chronicles some of my journey and discovery by engaging the presentation and facilitation of dialogue held around the topic at CBFNC’s Annual Gathering which took place at Knollwood Baptist Church March 16th, 2018. This post represents my reflection in dealing with and processing of what came out of that conversation with fellow ministers I asked to participate in this endeavor with me.

            I decided to turn my interest into an independent study this semester with Dr. Voss Roberts who encouraged me of its importance. Early on I began to struggle with the idea of presenting. I felt it was somewhat inauthentic of me to present myself as any sort of authority on the issue. Instead, after an additional meeting with Dr. Voss Roberts, I decided to own that fact and worked it into my presentation. Another resource I wanted to tap into was different denominational perspectives. I didn’t offer a structured panel discussion, but I asked four different faith leaders to join me that afternoon and share their stories and experiences. I included several research statements from other Baptist organizations and provided entry-level language in addressing the issue. I also included some statistics on the subject as well. My hope in doing this was to “cast a wide net”, appealing to those who zoom in on numbers as well as those who are drawn to more personal anecdotes.

CBFNC Annual Gathering

             I started out my presentation thanking all that came. Sixteen was the headcount I took when it began. I believe it’s important to point out the age demographic; 75% of those who attended appeared to be Millennials or Generation X while the remaining few were Baby-boomers. After the welcome, I jumped into the PowerPoint and laid out three questions I wanted to answer: Who I was? How I ended up here? Who am I not? These questions laid the groundwork for letting the room know who was speaking to them. I explained my role as an ordained clergy in a CBF church in Statesville, NC. I told them I was a 2nd-year divinity student at Wake Forest University and it was during a course I had taken which prompted me to start asking questions as to why CBF had no official statement affirming those with disabilities. Lastly, I told them I was not an exhaustive voice when it came to this important discussion. I was no expert on the subject; rather I was just a person trying to figure out more about this issue by asking questions in hopes to start a dialogue which leads to action.

I included pictures and links of CBF web pages being sure to point out the “advocacy” page on CBF’s national site, www.cbf.net, one that did not mention those with disabilities. I then brought up statements, both full and partial, from the American Baptist Church and Southern Baptist Convention addressing the same issue. My conclusion of this information was CBF could not claim local autonomy, the local church’s right to govern itself, as the culprit for the lack of engagement around the topic. I wanted to point out as well the statements by other Baptist denominations were nothing new. The SBC statement originated in 1978 and American Baptist Churches had gone through several revisions of their own statement, the latest being 2002.

I also wanted to be clear about this problem's impact on more than just Baptist. I invited four speakers to share their stories that day. Wes Pitts is the Minister of Education at First Presbyterian Church in Statesville. Carrilea Hall is the Associate Minister at Broad Street United Methodist Church in Statesville. I know both of these wonderful individuals from serving in the same community as them. Wes’s church host a weekly time and space for those with disabilities and Carrilea’s church partners with Camp Barnabas, a camp for those with disabilities, for the last several years. I also invited Shakeisha Grey from the divinity school at WFU. Her experience as a chaplain and perspective as a candidate in the UUA I believed would be appreciated and insightful.  Anita Laffoon is the Minister of Church Life at First Baptist Church – Kernersville, NC. Anita’s church has created space for those with disabilities and has been practicing and redefining their methods for many years. Because the session only lasted an hour, I notified my speakers than 5-7 minutes a piece would the allotted amount of time I could give them to answer two questions. The first, what was their respected denomination's stance on affirming persons with either mental or physical disabilities? The second, a personal story or reflection indicating their role as an advocate, ally, or activist for someone who has a disability.

I made sure to include statistics of why this should matter to those in our congregations and began unpacking some of the language those attending would need to familiarize themselves with; such as the concept of ableism and the difference between disabilities and handicaps. This was done to help show how important language is around this topic and its impact of helping faith communities make positive steps forward in a much-needed discussion. I used a quote Nancy Eiesland and found myself referencing her book The Disabled God quite a few times. My intent of using Eiesland was to provoke the idea of encountering, experiencing or seeing God in a new way. I then showed a few works of art which suggested this, Whirlwheel by Olivia Wise and The Disabled God at the University of Stellenbosch. I even used an example of a more inclusive liturgy with a congregational response (if time permitted, I would have asked us as a group to read this aloud to one another). Finally, I showed some diagrams suggesting different approaches to worship spaces which would be accessible to those with disabilities and other adjustments that would need to be considered for full inclusion such as pew placement, lecterns and microphone accessibility, adequate lighting for those that read lips, etc…I showed images of Salvage Garden in Greensboro, NC and spoke of Jean Vanier and the L’Arche communities as tangible inclusive spaces.   

I began to hear a theme from those attending around “change and implementation.” One young woman shared a story of the shortening of pews in her church to accommodate those with wheelchairs. She had been at her church for three years and had seen the process come to completion, but it had taken ten years for it happen! The faces in the room with me that day seemed to ask. “Surely we can do better than that?”

Reflecting

Weeks later I made it a point to go back and speak with the other ministers who joined me that day to see if they had picked up on any other themes I might have missed. I asked several questions of them including how they felt the presentation went and was there anything not discussed or something they wished was discussed in more detail. The feedback I received was helpful and affirming of the need for this discussion to take place. Wes Pitts informed me that the presentation and the other speakers I brought in were “thought-provoking.” However, he saw the hour-long time frame as too constrictive for any deep conversation to occur. He related to me, “I thought it did a good job of hitting on multiple topics and getting people to think deeply about their own or their denomination's approach to disability.” When speaking to Wes I got the impression he picked up on the theme I sensed as well dealing with how we began to cultivate space and shift congregational awareness. When I asked him what he thought of those that attended the event he said, “I was disappointed, but not surprised, that there was low attendance. It speaks to the church's engagement of disability care/welcome more broadly. Those that were there seemed to be deeply engaged and promoted healthy dialogue and asked good questions.” Anita Laffoon echoed some of Wes’s statements, but also added she appreciated something he had said during his talk about the Presbyterian Church and their idea of worship. “I was fascinated with the Presbyterian order that says that a service can only be considered worship if all are able to attend. I would love to delve into that and see what it looks like on a practical level in Baptist life.” Anita was the other fellow CBF minister in the group besides me. Her being there and familiarity with CBF life and what takes place at these types of gatherings was insightful. She was there the entire weekend and personally told me she enjoyed our session the best. When talking about the other sessions she visited that weekend she added, “Yours was challenging and I liked that.” Where Wes picked up on the size of the group being an indication of an apparent lack of empathy for those with disabilities, Anita enjoyed the smaller size and noticed the conversation morphing into something bigger. “I noticed that every time we focused on one particular group with its unique challenges someone invited us to consider another group with different challenges. I loved how being inclusive to a small group was ballooning into being inclusive of all,” she said. Shakeisha Gray too thought the time frame was too short and wished we, “could have spoken a bit more about what their denominational policies are and if they see people with disabilities serving in ministerial and leadership capacities, not just as members of their congregations. If we aren't seeing people with disabilities in these roles, then we aren't doing ministry right! It helps foster and support people with disabilities exemplify how they are capable of leadership and service.” When I asked her about a vibe or theme she noticed from those who attended she said, “The vibe was definitely laid back, but the audience didn't engage as much as I hoped they would, although I saw some people nod, no one really asked questions, which is unfortunate because I know the amount of work that went into the presentation and the amount of knowledge that was in the room. However, it could also be that those interested in this topic, are already doing this kind of work. It did come up that our respective denominations are all trying, in their own ways, to be more supportive of those with disabilities.” This point was well taken as afterward when I was speaking to a gentleman who attended the session he informed me that his son has a disability and the reason he attends Knollwood Baptist is because of their willingness to include his son in their congregation. I can't say enough how much I appreciate Shakeisha being there as a person who has a disability herself, her story and her presence was crucial to the conversation.

One of my regrets this semester was not being able to attend Camp Barnabas with Carrilea Hall. Carrilea came and spoke about her experience at this camp and gave her Methodist perspective. She too enjoyed the variety of voices at the session, but was quick to add, “The only thing that I wanted to hear more about was perhaps more theology and pushing the bounds of our typical way of thinking about God and disability.”

Final Thoughts

This process was both fulfilling and taxing at the same time. I often found myself becoming hopeful and frustrated. When it comes to change within a faith community it appears a minority are intrigued enough to support said change, but others seemed to push back with a resisting “why?” I don’t know if I want to label those who do this as selfish, but I believe their lack of exposure to the issue prevents them from seeing why a change is needed.

I believe CBF as a whole needs to adopt a statement and resources advocating for those with disabilities, I confess I’m a little jaded with how they, and institutional bodies in general, are slow moving dinosaurs when it comes to change. I know that I can continue to bring this issue up at both the state and national level, but see my best chance at achieving this at the local level within my own church. If a sustainable, dare I say thriving model, could be achieved on such level it would be hard to be overlooked by the powers that be. I believe it will take our story being partnered with other church’s stories for change to occur.   

We’re in this together.

Eco-Priest? A Clergy's Response to the Anthropocene.

A Letter to the Modern Church,

With the end of the semester, my seminary experience is entering into its last stage. In the 6 years of serving alongside folks in two congregations, and with most of that time being in higher education, I have been in a part-time or bi-vocational role. A major question that looms in my future is how will I transition from that role to one which is full time? I’ve received many solid recommendations at how to achieve this from other ministers and mentors I have surrounded myself with over the years. Churches often combine responsibilities which redefined associate pastors duties. A youth pastor might also oversee a young adult or a college age ministry. Someone gifted in administration might become a Minister of Administration or Education.  For churches with large Family Life Centers that host different basketball leagues, yoga classes, and avid walking clubs, etc...it wouldn’t be hard to convince anyone that a Minister of Recreation would be beneficial for scheduling events, dealing with insurance companies, and making sure all building requirements are meeting safety codes.

Yet, what if you don’t feel called to any of those areas?  Are these older titles limiting? Where is there room in the modern church for re-imagined possibilities? For someone like myself, I want to explore new ways to do life with parishioners. Notice I don’t use the term ministry here. I wouldn’t label what I do now as “ministry.” To say that I have a personal ministry sounds pretentious. I simply have a life, and this is a life I want to spend working, serving, and experiencing alongside people. I’ve thought about what I’d like to do and ways I’d like to see the church grow. And trust me; I’m not talking about growing our numbers. I’d like to see us grow in our compassion towards all of God’s creation. We do well at loving on each other most of the time, although there are some horror stories that take place in churches. The creation I’m referring to is something that we’ve separated ourselves from for far too long. By neglecting creation, humanity has allowed the world, God’s creation, to suffer in ways that have produced watershed moments. What’s a watershed moment? I’m glad you asked.

Marriage is a watershed moment. Having a child is a watershed moment. Moses standing in front of the burning bush and feeling God’s presence is a watershed moment. Such moments produce a turning point experience. You can’t go back and everything moving forward is completely new and different. From my own seminary experience, a watershed moment occurred when I began to see biblical reconciliation from an entirely different perspective. It was in this class entitled Field, Table, Communion and Tree of Life: Christianity, Climate Change, and Ecological Vocation that I discovered other “theologians” I had never experienced before. No Barth, Schleiermacher, or von Harnack. Instead, I was properly introduced to Wendell Berry, Wes Jackson, and Ellen Davis. In this space, I found myself eager to drink from a new perspective and source I hadn’t been privy to before while simultaneously being humbled that such a gaping hole was present in my theological education. These works wetted my appetite and I found myself wanting to learn more. I picked up books dealing with creation care and the intersection between humanity’s role as caregivers in this process. Issues surrounding “land and soil” became a focal point for me, and from there, the issue of humanity’s impact on the earth. In other words, what scholarly folk are labeling the anthropocene.  This realization that humanity has caused such offense to the other living species on the planet is not up for debate. Instead of co-creating with God, humanity has chased self-preservation and glorification which has led to the eradication of certain plants and animals.

A question which I believe when we come together as a church is what are we actually doing as God’s people about this? Should the church engage this differently than the rest of the world, or is the church simply playing catch-up? In the words of Wendell Berry, “The great question that hovers over the issue, one that we have dealt mainly by indifference, is the question of what people are for”. I hope the church can be a place where this question can be worked out.

Covenant language is nothing new to Christians. We often think of Jesus at the Last Supper giving his disciples a new covenant. We might also be familiar with the covenant that God made with Abraham. However, we often overlook the first covenant God establishes with humanity. Often referred as the Noahic covenant, God, after flooding the earth, speaks to Noah and his family and ensures them Godself will never raise up the waters to flood and destroy humanity again. “This is a sign of the covenant that I make between me and you and every living creature that is with you for all future generations. I have set my bow in the sky clouds and it shall be a sign of the covenant between me and the earth.” (Gen. 9: 12-13) Kinda changes the notion of a rainbow in the sky doesn’t it? God essentially hangs up or lays down, a weapon. Humanity is now in covenant with God. This first relationship points humanity to practices socially and ethically appropriate with each other, but not only with each other, with every living creature.

If God laid down a weapon in Genesis, humanity seemingly has picked one up in its practices towards the environment. While guns might affect person to person relationship, modern farming techniques have decimated the soil at an alarming rate. This has not been without consequence. As industrialization has evolved into the 20th and 21st centuries, agricultural practices have adapted in order to adjust to issues related to climate change. In 2014 the US Global Change Research Program released an assessment through a series of reports dealing with modern climate change since the year 1990.  The report, “Observed changes over the last century include increasing average temperatures, increasing weather variability, warmer nights and winters, a lengthening of the growing season and an increase in the frequency and intensity of extreme weather events.” Of course many view this through an apathetic lens. In certain parts of the world, the change seems so miniscule that a need for any sort of modification or new practices seems irrelevant. While a couple of degrees might seem small as far a climate change is concerned, it will impact the earth more than just people having to pay a higher electricity bill in the summer months and an applying an extra layer of sun block while resting outside the pool. While the current occupiers of this world might not see the direct impact of climate change our children and grandchildren most certainly will.

I once read a story about a German farmer from the upstate New York area, Klass Marten. Marten had been a farmer his entire life and because of the constant need to produce bigger yield year after year, turned to many different pesticides in order to ensure his crop output was optimal. One day Klass's right arm stopped working. After visiting a doctor who only seemed to want and prescribe muscle relaxers and other forms of pain medication, Klass and his wife Mary-Howell knew that medications weren’t the answer to the problem; it was the stuff they sprayed on their large farm in order to control the weeds. Klass stopped using chemicals on his crops and became a pioneer in the field of organic growing. Once during a gathering of those who consider themselves part of the sustainable organic farming guild, Klass posed a question which he himself had heard from a Mennonite bishop; when do you start raising a child? The answer is a hundred years before they are born because that’s when you start building the environment they’re going to live in.

I sat in class at the beginning of the year and heard Dr. Miles Silman of Wake Forest University, biology professor and self-described forest ecologist, as he shared with me and my classmates that the shoreline of North Carolina was going to look drastically different in the next one hundred to two hundred years. The outer banks will be submerged under water. Think about that for a second. No more Kitty Hawk the place where aviation was born. No more Ocracoke, the Lost Colony story will include a lost land that now exists underwater. These places will exist in memory, just stories where our descendents can hear and read about but be unable to visit. I remember Professor Silman and his map showing the projections of the coast line. Raleigh and the rest of Wake County would become ocean front property. My wife and I spent several years in the Raleigh area, the idea of stepping out onto Hillsborough Street, the few miles of pavement that runs through the North Carolina State University campus, and being within walking distance of a beach is mind boggling. Losing landmarks is one thing, but the other side of this climate change coin is just as severe; it’s going to affect what we eat, how much we eat, and what we can grow. That is where we are heading and I admit with data looking this way I start to feel a sort of helplessness with what I could possibly do to help change our current course.

Environmental issues are rarely spoken of from a pulpit, usually listed as being more political than anything else. I want to help change this notion. As my studies have progressed I, like Miles Silman, Klaas Marten, and Laura Lengnick, see the need to lend a voice as to why this deserves our utmost attention. While the individuals I just mentioned are scientists, farmers, and activists, I wish to represent the faith element of this conversation. I am not the first person who has wanted to do such work. Saint Francis of Assisi, Ecumenical Patriarch Bartholomew, and Pope Francis have all declared the need for those claiming a Christian faith to be advocates of the natural world. Pope Francis in his encyclical letter entitled Laudato Si’ informs his readers, “Humanity still has the ability to work together in building our common home.” This language, our common home, brings up a shared commonality missing from the current culture we presently reside in. Like the Pope, I believe humanity still has the ability to make a positive difference towards creation.

By now you may be thinking, sure, the church should take steps in helping. However, where would we as a community even start? The realization that climate change is real and its impact on all of creation, humanity included, is the mindset we must come to. Humanity, and the church has abdicated its position as stewards of this land to other entities. In the book of Ephesians, the apostle Paul instructs the young church that they're not fighting against an enemy or problem of flesh and blood; their fight is with powers and principalities. (Ch.6:12) We must not reduce climate change and the influence it plays in our treatment and care of the natural world to nothing more than a mere spectacle instead of the arduous issue it is really is; a deception that we have allowed ourselves to be subjected to by powers and principalities.

I do not presume the neglecting of the earth is something humanity set out to do intentionally. I often imagine in these instances a sailboat on the waters. One must be in a constant state of engagement with the steering wheel which moves the rudder and navigates the ship's destination. When a sailor lets go of the wheel for a long enough time he or she might end up in a place they never intended to be. This is what I speculate has happened concerning climate change. In the last century with the advancements of technology and the need to produce more and more at the most efficient rate, humanity lost control over the wheel and now we are just starting to realize how far off course we have gone.

To correct our mistake we must first acknowledge, or in other words, repent of what has been allowed to take place in the name of progress. Only then can we begin the process of dialoguing with others who have realized the same in hopes of implementing positive changes on both an individual and collective level. This is where I feel as a faith leader I am called to act. If the church wishes to reclaim its identity as being a moral compass in the community, what better way than recognizing and appointing someone to engage this issue directly? We have leadership in different areas already, such as a minister of music, education, and children. Why not have a minister of ecology or creation care? In a time where the church is trying to figure out what she is to a postmodern society this could be a step which actively addresses an important issue, and given the very nature of such a calling, this work would need to be conducted outside of the buildings and walls which have led to estrangement with those who don’t attend our weekly functions. Doing this work, serving as a steward, would mean we would connect with our community and have the opportunities to truly know our neighbors and them us. Would this manifest itself in a community garden? Perhaps. Or would this change start there and move into different parishioners backyards? Instead of inviting folks to the church to see our garden which might become another jewel in the crown for us to feel good about, wouldn’t it be better to invite people over to our homes to sit at large farm tables right outside gardens that families and friends helped construct?

 What I am proposing is something new, and yet it is a call to do something very old. Others are doing this work already, both in and outside of the church. My hope is you are moved enough to see the need for change yourself and for our church. Google some of the names I mentioned and began reading what is being said concerning how climate change affects all forms of agriculture and what we as people can do about it. Lean into our identity in Christ. It was Christ, who taught in the Temple, yet often ended up in the wilderness when he wished to pray and connect with God the Father. Entering the wilderness and engaging with nature, we, like Christ, have the ability to enter holy spaces. This is the promise of authentic freedom one can find in God’s creation. In some ways, it’s like going home.

From the wilderness,

~tBSB

Redefining Deprivation

This past month marks a full year since I launched blacksheepbaptist.com

So much has changed in that time frame, the arrival of a kid is the most life changing for sure.

In the next couple of weeks, I will finish a few papers and officially enter into my last year of divinity school at Wake Forest. Has it really been two years since Lauren and I moved to Winston-Salem? I often get sympathetic looks from folks when I explain my current life stage. “Yes, I’m a graduate student. Yes, I work two jobs. Yes, I’m a new parent….” Somewhere in the conversation they usually hit me with this, “My goodness, how do you get everything done?”

My answer: You just do.

Through preparation or procrastination, papers get done. Through heavy coursework at school, job responsibilities still get done. Through late night diaper changes, early morning readings with coffee still happen (all of this is done with a heavy dose of spousal support). How do I manage to make all this semi-work and, at times, even thrive?

Discipline.  

Now before you think I’m a typical “type A” over-organized individual, let me assure you I’m not. I imagine I, like most people, have things they do extremely well. For me, it happens to be academic work (Lord knows I’ve been in school long enough to know what works and what doesn’t). For me, academics pertaining to what some would call ministry is important. When I get up early or stay up late I don’t feel as if I’m depriving myself of anything since I’m spending time doing something I enjoy. Spending time with my family is an even a better example.

But what about the things I’m not crazy about. Now that’s a completely different story.

Up until the time I met Lauren, I would become infatuated for several months with hitting the gym. When we met I was on a routine of heading to the gym early with a good friend for a 6am workout. I enjoyed lifting weights and the camaraderie it brought. Plus, I thought because I was lifting and doing some cardio I could eat pretty much what I wanted. This cycle went on from the time I was in my mid-twenties, but as I got older and my schedule and responsibilities changed I found less and less time to go to the gym. Like many a newlywed, I watched myself put on 35 pounds over a five year period. Poor meal choices and little to no exercise was the culprit. I felt like crap and watched some of my favorite outfits get shoved deeper and deeper into the back of our closet.  I tried getting back in shape, even as early as this past summer when I signed up for Crossfit. But a limiting budget and a hectic work and school schedule made it easy to walk away from after 3 months. This past Christmas I stepped on a scale and was confronted with a weight I’m pretty sure I had never been at before.

I knew I needed a change. Two things happened with spurred me on; a close friend’s close call with heart failure (it’s a very real moment when you do a hospital visit and the person is your age) and the approaching due date of Violet. However, this time around I didn’t run to the gym. I ran to the one place where I knew I had little to no discipline…my dinner plate. I began a life-altering eating plan which has made me conscious of everything I put in my mouth. I track each bite through an app and weigh myself twice a day. I’ve heard many people say you shouldn’t “tie yourself to the scale”, but in my experience, this is how I keep myself accountable. It may not be for everyone, but it works for me. Here at the beginning of May, I’m down 30lbs and I’m closing in on my goal weight.  Why was this time different? The only thing I can say in regards to that is I just decided that this time it was going to be different. I put my time and focus into this much like I do with my school work and the success I saw in the classroom made its way onto the scale.

Scripture speaks of the importance of discipline. The books of Hebrews, 1st Corinthians, and Titus have verses stressing the importance. I’ve looked at them in a new light in the last few months and seen that discipline is needed in all areas of my life and not just the ones I deem as important. I often thought about the time when Jesus proclaimed in Matthew Chapter 11 that his "yoke was easy and his burden was light" I kinda saw the opposite, but the longer I'm on this yoke of being aware of what I put in my body I see how "light" it really is. Jesus is saying that when you come along beside me, what was once hard and difficult won't seem that way for long. I'm not trying to compare picking up one's cross to picking up one's fork...yet then again, maybe I am? 

Every now and then when I decline a doughnut or something sweet when I’m out with friends I get asked why I didn’t partake. I try and explain and sometimes I get hit with, “But one doughnut isn't gonna hurt you” or "Do you really have to deprive yourself like this?” You see this is where deprivation needs to be redefined and, in this case, I’m the one who gets to define it. Deprivation is me not being able to wear the jeans I want. Deprivation is me getting winded way too fast when I play with the students at the church. Deprivation would be me continuously making unhealthy life choices while my daughter grows older. I don’t feel deprived at all not being able to eat a large bowl of spaghetti. If anything I feel freer than I have in a long time. Even if that means I'm only able to have one round of Guinness at the pub. Cheers to that one round, amen.  

Enter Violet: A Father's Perspective.

My daughter Violet is 8 weeks old today.

Time has slowed and quickened depending on which day you ask me. Everything has changed. From the smallest task to a love between two individuals which suddenly manifests itself into three...nothing is the same.

And for this I’m thankful.

What I’m about to share is my story. My wife Lauren has her own and it will be hers to tell when she wants and to whom she wants if she ever wishes to do so. The birthing process is traumatic. While I would never dream of comparing what a woman goes through in labor to her spouse’s experience of witnessing such an act, I will say it was one of the most difficult things I’ve ever had to endure physically, emotionally, and spiritually.

Lauren was in labor somewhere in the neighborhood of 35 hours. Because of numerous reasons, it came to the point where her doctor recommended a cesarean. Again, speaking from my perspective, I had not planned for this. Standing in a room listening to what the next steps were going to be my mind was more reactionary than anything. Reflecting back now, I don’t believe I fully comprehended what was going to happen. I was entering into the “great unknown” with no references from which to pull from.

While Lauren was being prepped, I was given a set of scrubs and told to wait in the hall (I managed well enough until I got to the beard, at which time I had to don a second cap, inverted, to cover the facial hair). I sat in that hallway for what felt like an eternity. I watched hospital personnel come and go, some acknowledging my existence while others hurried past. When someone finally called my name and brought me into the room I was shocked at how many people were in there. Before being able to do a headcount, I was escorted over to Lauren and placed on a small stool beside her head. From her chest down a curtain had been drawn to prohibit her, and me, from watching the surgical teamwork.

As the birth of Violet began to unfold, so much happened and most of it was far from pleasant, but again, that is Lauren’s story to tell. All I feel comfortable with sharing is that as a spouse my role was to be as present and as affirming as I could while watching what appeared as organized chaos commence around me. They say every birthing story is unique, and Violet’s certainly was. So many variables come into play and sometimes you don’t know what you’ll do until you’re presented with certain circumstances.

With my head beside Lauren’s, I watched her fight pain and nausea as nurses and the like moved back and forth and discussed everything from medications to such trivial things as lunch menus. Thinking back, I’m aware that for those who work in hospitals, this scenario is something they do every day. My critique of their competency is that I wished they realized this scene for Lauren or I was anything but “normal.” Understanding that I believe would do a lot towards patient care in medical practice settings.

I remember them asking if I wanted to peek above the curtain to see Violet enter this world and I declined. I do not regret this decision. In that moment my entire being was transfixed on Lauren. She had been through so much and to watch her continue was both encouraging and heartbreakingly excruciating. I’ve always known I loved my wife, I would do anything for her, but watching her go through this broke me. I would never categorize myself as the macho type looking to solve all types of problems or too proud to show emotion, yet in the moment I realized I had little power to do anything; a true recognition of helplessness. Besides holding her hand and stroking her face I could do nothing but watch in the hope that those in the room with me knew what they were doing.

Enter Violet. Up from the depths she arose from a baptism of water and blood, a shared act we humans never fully recover from. She was shown to us and quickly swept away to an adjacent table where she was weighed, cleaned, and “beat the hell out of.” At least it appeared that way. Massaging in the hopes of coaxing her along to take in air and push it out. She cried slightly but was strangely quiet, something she hasn’t been since. After sucking out fluid she was swaddled and handed to me with a small toboggan (for you northern folks, it’s a hat) on her head with plenty of hair sticking out from the back.

Let’s be clear, she was perfect. Through her Ilotycin smeared eyes she looked at me and our bond was sealed. She was half of me and yet she had all of me. Holding her I leaned in to show her to Lauren, bringing her close so she could see a face that looked so much like her own. The doctor, nurses, and anesthesiologist team were still attending to her, so I, the most unprepared for this moment, was left to hold Violet in my right arm while simultaneously placing my free hand on Lauren’s arm as she continued to have negative reactions to the medications she had been given.

Afterward while Lauren was being moved from the birthing room to the recovery unit, we had a short moment to ourselves in the hall. I tried to choke back tears that flowed effortlessly. Some tears of joy, but mostly tears of concern for her. Going through this had solidified how much Lauren means to me. I don’t mean to sound cliché, but while I know it would be possible, I can’t imagine doing life without her. She has simply become a part of me that I recognize as the best of me.

Now here we are, 2 months later. Violet cries, she eats, and she poops...and she’s beginning to smile. Some people say that it’s the crying of a baby that breaks them, but for me it’s her smile. There’s wonder and hope found in those moments. There is a swelling of compassion that causes me to question all the artificial moments I’ve tried to create in my life over the years. This child is real. The love I have for her and her mother is real. I couldn’t have experienced this without them.

And for this too, I am forever thankful.

A Missed Opportunity: #lynchburgrevival

This past weekend a revival was held in Lynchburg, Virginia on the doorsteps of the largest Christian educational institution in the United States, Liberty University. It was an event helped put together by Shane Claiborne, as self-prescribed Evangelical Christian and who many consider a leader in the new monasticism movement. Claiborne burst into the Christian pop culture limelight in the mid-2000s with his book The Irresistible Revolution. Since then Claiborne has continued to write, be an activist through his anti-death penalty stance, and demonstrate a communal lifestyle through his work in North Philadelphia with his organization “The Simple Way.” I’ve been a fan of Claiborne since the beginning. His east Tennessee southern draw and almost unapologetic “aw-shucks country-ness” was a fresh voice in a time where most associated with the term Evangelical were more known for their political leanings instead of their religious affiliation. And honestly, Claiborne was just doing something different. I mean driving around on a book tour in a grease-powered “veggie bus” is just cool.

Claiborne, and others known as Red Letter Christians, had planned the #lynchburgrevival in response to the message(s) they felt were anti-Gospel coming from Liberty University’s president Jerry Falwell Jr. Falwell has said A LOT in his time as the head of the university. Prompting students to carry firearms on campus, to his continuous alignment and support of U.S. President Donald Trump on issues ranging from immigration to Falwell’s defense of sexual allegations charges being brought against Trump. Claiborne has been vocal with his criticism of Falwell, unabashedly at times. Yet, on the eve of the revival, Claiborne reached out to Liberty and Falwell in hopes to have a prayer vigil on their campus, uniting people from both the school and those showing up for the rally. Falwell and Liberty responded with an official notice that if any vigil took place there would be consequences ranging from fines to arrest. So much for reconciliation…

I found myself wondering while all this played out; is anyone really surprised with this outcome?

I’m not a supporter of Falwell, finding myself sitting in the Claiborne camp more often than not. However, all this reeks of grandstanding from both sides. Falwell flexes his muscles, citing the safety of his students and Shane prophesies that all he was aiming to do was share the Gospel message in Lynchburg. Claiborne even says that in the letter he sent Falwell he asked if the two could pray together and informed Falwell that he'd been praying for him all this time. Claiborne and fellow RLC Tony Campolo even collected prayer cards that will be sent to the Falwell family after the event. All this sounds sincere from both sides and yet…

Citing the safety of students from what was aimed as a prayer vigil seems absurd. Falwell has been on Claiborne’s radar for some time and probably didn’t want a potentially embarrassing confrontation to occur on his campus aka his own backyard. And Claiborne can confess brotherly love all he wants, but come on…these tweets don’t seem to express those feelings. 

Do I think the things that Falwell spews are heretical and toxic? Absolutely, but...

Saying you're praying for someone after blasting them continously is like a sweet old church lady giving you the buiness on everything from your hair color choice to your "clearly wrong stance" on LGBTQ/Gun control/Abortion (take your pick) and after the verbal lashing leans in and says, "I'm praying for you hon." It just comes across as presumptuous and inauthentic. Rest assured Claibornes' not concerned for Falwell, but concerned about Falwell.

Here was a chance for something beautiful to happen. I just think egos and agendas on BOTH sides got in the way.

Shame.

Marching Backwards: Guest Writer Emily Davis

Recently, with the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship’s decision regarding the Illumination Project, I’ve found myself recalling several stories I’ve heard from my mother. During her time at Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary in the mid-‘80s, she too felt the feelings that I am feeling now, though in somewhat of a different manner. Since being raised by a female Baptist minister, I’ve long acknowledged the importance and significance of the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship. Without their leadership and guidance, my mom would not be serving her twenty-third year in her congregation, and I would not be preparing to graduate Divinity school in two short months. Without the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship, there would be many women who have felt the familiar tugs of callings into ministry, who would have found themselves having to do something else, because of the decision from others to discredit the voices of female ministers. Recently, I’ve wondered just where we would be without the voices of our female Baptist ministers. The split from the Southern Baptist Convention, as I’ve heard, was a painful one, yet as we sit on the cusp of three decades later, I fear that the feelings of a new split are upon us.

With CBF’s Illumination Project decision, we are yet again repeating similar narratives from the mid to late ‘80s. CBF’s Illumination Project states that we have adopted a “Christ-centered hiring policy,” yet I find myself among many others wondering what exactly can be Christ-centered if all persons are not welcome to the table. While the hiring policy may have been removed, the implementation procedures are where the true intentions are revealed. Regarding the calling of CBF field personnel, “CBF will send field personnel who have the gifts and life experiences required for the most faithful ministry in the particular setting … and who practice a traditional Christian sexual ethic of celibacy in singleness or faithfulness in marriage between a woman and a man.” This exclusion sounds eerily similar to the Southern Baptist Convention’s belief that “Scripture teaches that a woman’s role is not identical to that of men in every respect, and that pastoral leadership is assigned to men.” Unfortunately, it seems we Baptists have yet to learn from our painful histories of exclusion. I find the outcome of the Illumination Project no different than the Southern Baptist Convention decision to exclude women. In fact, I somehow find it worse, because those of us who are a part of the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship—especially us women, should know exactly the pain that was felt when we were excluded. We as the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship should know better and be better because of our painful beginnings of seeking to include women to the pulpit.

Now, we’re facing that same exclusion again, as we refuse to be a part of including those in the LGBTQIA community that God has called. We of all people should know what it means to seek for inclusion for all of our siblings in Christ, as we once sought for that inclusion of women. Yet, we’ve failed. The feelings of hurt, and pain, and anger will continue to linger. We cannot ignore the discrimination and blatant homophobia that is hidden behind the words “Christ-Centered hiring policy.” For a denomination that began on the premise of including those so desperately searching for a chair at the table, we certainly seem to be kicking the legs out from under the chairs that Jesus placed for all. The Cooperative Baptist Fellowship has been my home for the majority of my life, so it is painful to hear these words, and even more painful to write them. It is my hope, that we Baptists will continue the pattern of dissent, that our local churches will hire those in the LGBTQIA community that have the same callings of sacred holiness, and move towards becoming a Christ-Centered denomination that focuses on the beauty of our differences, given to us by the Creator that has set all of us to love one another.

Dismantling Our Own Echo Chamber.

About every two weeks or so I, and a couple other local ministers, host a small gathering of spiritual seekers at a local watering hole in the community where we serve. The group is eclectic is some ways, while predictable in others. The group is comprised of several different faith communities, mostly of the mainline Protestant variety. The age difference has range, but we are a lily white group (I’d love to see that change in the future).  One contributor always brings something “she just threw together” for us to snack on while the owner of the establishment pours spirits from behind the bar. We have met now going on two years and have formed a trusting bond with one another.

You have to have trust when you talk about difficult things. Over the course of time, we have touched on mental health, assisted suicide, gun control, nationalism, mass shootings, race relations within our country/community, the entire mess that was the 2016 election, confederate statues, etc…These conversations have been hard for some, and I hope I and the other clergy present have done a fair enough job facilitating the conversations and provided a space where people can speak freely while knowing their thoughts will be heard and not attacked. Some weeks we do a better job than others.

Recently a conversation came about concerning the role of the faith leader in their community. It centered on proclamation, what Baptist might call preachin’. The topic that night spurred the question of faith leader’s responsibility to speak honestly and open with their people. To use Christian terminology, a pastor’s job on Sunday should be to speak prophetically to the congregation. Perhaps a better example might be that through proclamation a pastor should speak authoritatively on issues concerning injustice in order to move their congregation towards compassionate action. It was this thought that caused one of the newer attendees to ask those who were clergy, why doesn’t clergy address certain issues from the pulpit? An important question and one I have found myself asking for quite some time. This opened up some interesting dialogue from those there. One of the other clergy members present said something to the effect of when they preached or communicated with their congregation it an attempt to approach them in such a way that wouldn’t cause them to automatically shut down from what was being said. This was explained in some detail, but for the person who initially posed the question, that wasn’t a good enough answer. They explained that they themselves were the leader of a faith community and saw it as a requirement to tell their congregation the hard truths with as little sugar coating as possible. That, they said, was the responsibility of a faith leader and clergy owe this to their respected congregation.

Back and forth the conversation went until finally my minister friend admitted what all clergy know to be true. If I said everything I truly wanted, I’d probably be fired. That’s real. That’s a feeling present every Sunday morning. It’s an unspoken truth. What followed was the expected; being in ministry ain’t about the money.

Of course it isn’t. However, pastors have families that need to eat and utility bills needing to be paid just like everybody else (I could write another blog on the mindset of some to keep a pastor poor and humble, but that’s another blog for another time). This made sense for some, and I would argue most parishioners already know this dynamic. However, the new attendee didn’t see being fired as a reason to not say what was obviously true and right. Fair enough. When questioned how they were able to accomplish this in their own setting, a story unfolded where, at least to me, it made perfect sense. This person was part of a certain denomination that historically is very progressive on certain issues. This denomination has offered sanctuary to those who have been fed up with the legalism of more conservative faith communities. This person left a space where they felt they had no voice and found others who shared their same ethical understandings on issues. There is nothing wrong with this as people naturally want to be in community with those who have the same values as themselves. While this explanation was being given I thought of my own call into congregational ministry. “God, how great would it be to speak into people’s lives and have them affirm what I already know to be right and true?”

I than realized I don’t have that luxury.

To me, being a pastor is more than preachin’ on Sunday morning. It’s walking with people through the ups and downs of life. It’s being with them when they or their children get married, or when their family member passes suddenly. It’s sharing a pack of Nabs on the way back from a small country store because it’s where they’ve bought them since they were a kid and “you really have to see this place.” It’s popping into the hospital to see how someone’s relative you don’t even know is doing. It’s helping their aging parents move furniture into their new home. It’s writing a letter of recommendation for a student who got a speeding ticket. Its sipping moonshine with the person you had pegged as a teetotaler. All of this helps build relationships that overtime produces trust. And let me tell you, people are apt to hear you better when they trust you then when they don’t. As a pastor I shouldn’t be able to say whatever the hell I want just because I think its right. If I share a message where God seems to line up with everything I think is to be true, I’m pretty sure it’s not God who’s saying it. I’m not preaching the Gospel message, but the gospel according to me. Could I surround myself with people who amen’d everything I said? Probably. But, for me, it seems more fitting and even natural to step behind a pulpit a see faces that I know don’t agree with me or I with them. It makes me think about what I actually want to say. I have to be deliberate with my words in order to reach people who I know will struggle with what I have to say. I have to respect and trust them just like they do me. This is the kind of space that produces growth. Being around folks that look like you, talk like you, and think like you might feel good. Echo chambers tend to have that effect.

Pastors need to sit with all kinds of people. In the 11 chapter of Luke’s Gospel account, Jesus is invited to dinner by a Pharisee. For those that don’t know, Pharisees were the group of religious leaders who followed Jesus around and questioned everything he said, rebuking him at every chance they got along the way. Growing up, I understood the Pharisees to be the “bad guys” in the Jesus story. And yet here is Jesus, the same guy who during the Sermon on the Mount promised a kingdom made for the poor in spirit and for those who would be peacemakers, accepting an invitation to sit with those who his followers considered then, and today, to be the “bad guys.” I’m starting to think Jesus didn’t accept that invitation because he intended to upstage his host in their own home. I think he took it because he loved this Pharisee just as much as he loved his disciples…

In closing, I’ll say I’m guilty of this. I love seeing heads nodding more than I do them swaying side to side. My desire is to try and hold relationships that cross all sorts of boundaries. If you’re in a certain camp on an issue I challenge you to find someone who represents the opposite view. Sit with them and hear their perspective. Find what you do have in common. Meet their family. Share a meal with them. Afterwards, it’ll make it harder to lump them into the category of people who are just wrong on whatever said issue is.

I’m talking to you intellectual progressives.  

And to you conservative patriots.

As you were,

~tBSB

Expanding the Table: How do we Accommodate Those in our Communities with Disabilities?

Short & sweet.

Later this month at the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship Annual Gathering here in Winston-Salem, I have the opportunity to present on the subject of CBF churches being spaces of advocacy for those in our communities with either physical or mental disabilities. As of now, CBF has no official statement on the matter.

How do I know this?

Last semester I found myself in a class entitled Theology and Disability, an eyebrow-raising course to say the least. One of my assignments was to provide my denomination’s resources, only I couldn’t find any…Odd, right?

At first, I thought this might have something to do with local autonomy. Baptist congregations possess the first and last word on the actions of their churches, and perhaps the vagueness I was discovering was the result of such. Yet, on further investigation, I discovered American Baptist and even the Southern Baptist Convention have statements regarding recognition of persons with disabilities.

On March 16th at Knollwood Baptist Church I and others will share our stories around this issue. My intent is to not craft or produce a statement for CBF to adopt but, through personal narratives, declare why CBF needs to address a gaping hole in their advocacy movement. While certain churches and individuals affiliated with the Fellowship have offered supportive spaces, the “denomi-network”  as whole finds itself 25 years late to an important conversation.

I personally invite you to join a discussion concerning the need for CBF-affiliated churches to begin the process of adopting language, creating spaces, and seeking innovative worship practices in the hope of cultivating authentic advocacy for those with physical and mental disabilities.

Come and listen. Come and be heard.

See you at the Gathering.

~tBSB

A Humanist Welcomes the Call to Chaplaincy

I keep saying it's important to surround yourself with different voices. For a Baptist Minister, you can't get much different than a Unitarian Universalist (although Shakeisha and I have more in common than most Baptist I know...) I'm thankful for her for so many things, the first of which is her contribution to my blog while I'm embracing my new role as father to a newborn daughter, but more on that later. I'm most thankful for her friendship. My experience at Wake Forest has been made better by simply knowing her. ~tBSB

When Justin asked if I’d like to be a guest contributor for his blog, I happily agreed and knew right away what I wanted to talk about: Chaplaincy.

Some of you might be wondering how or why a Unitarian Universalist (and self-described Humanist) might address such a thing, I can only answer that from my own experiences and so that’s what this blog is about.

My “call” to chaplaincy didn’t make a sound, I heard no voice calling me to ministry, while my congregants did say, “Hey, you’d make a good minister,” it wasn’t until I had the “feeling.” When I came to divinity school almost three years ago, I was driven by an experience I had on a trip to Wales. I was standing on these cliffs overlooking the Irish Sea with the wide open sky above me and in that moment I had this overwhelming feeling of how small we were in scale to the universe. I had this realization of how insignificant, yet so interconnected humanity was to each other and our planet throughout time (not to sound too much like Doctor Who). I came to divinity school with almost four years of congregational lay leadership, so I thought my experience was directing me towards congregational ministry, but it wasn’t.

My real call, or first inclination of that feeling, came during my second year of Div School when I witnessed the spiritual transformation of a dear friend who was going through an extended unit of Clinical Pastoral Education (CPE). I recalled my mentor ministers telling me how important CPE had been to their pastoral formation so I decided to explore chaplaincy in this way and registered for an extended unit during my third year. Six months have passed since I began my chaplaincy journey and I have never been more certain of anything in my life than the fact that I am a chaplain  

and *this* is what I’m “called” to do.

It happened slowly and yet all at once with impromptu prayers, warm embraces, hand-holding, shared tears, and sweet laughs. It came in rooms; waiting rooms, pediatric rooms, nurses stations, ICU bays, hallways, in the basement conference room, and in my supervisor’s office. I was able to give it language I hadn’t thought of using before, I described this work as allowing me to be a vessel of compassion, to do the work of ministry in direct ways. There have also been times when words couldn’t describe this work and tears were the only thing that could; tears of joy, sorrow, happiness, frustration, confusion, and joy again.

Multiple emotions go into forming grief which in and of itself becomes one of our most intimate reactions to all sorts of issues you can imagine people are facing in a major trauma one university teaching hospital that also has a children’s hospital attached to it. When someone invites you, the chaplain and the stranger, into their grief, that is a sacred gift. The sacredness goes beyond any faith tradition or religious denomination, it crosses the barriers of race, class, and gender. That sacredness is something I as a chaplain can hold in space with you in your hurt and fear.

For me, a belief in God is not at the core of my ministry instead it’s a belief in our connected humanity. It does not mean I cannot find value in your belief and comfort you in ways you know and understand, it gives me a freedom to not be held back by harmful theologies and to give you in return the utmost compassion and care that comes straight from my heart and core of being. I also believe this calling as a chaplain allows me to hold people in light and love, to provide them with blessings and prayers that are not taught in books, but truly comes from the divine spark that we all share.

I am not certain of my path in a congregational setting, I am certain that right now I am loving the work and ministry of chaplaincy. I’ve just been accepted into a one year CPE residency program at Wake Forest Baptist Medical Center and I’m excited to see where this call will lead!

Illumination, Parkland, and Clueless Twits (I mean Tweets)

In the last week, three things have drawn my attention.

1)   The CBF Illumination Project proposal and outcome.

Others have submitted articles and feedback on this subject. Jim Somerville (who I shared a wonderful conversation with on the phone last week), Bill Leonard, Cody Sanders, Haley Cawthon-Freels, and Steve Wells have already offered their voices ranging from heartache to uncomfortable contentedness. I encourage you who are outside of Cooperative Baptist Fellowship circles to read these responses and Google more. I could spend the next several paragraphs outlining what the Illumination Project was called to do, how they did it, and what the results were…but again that has already been done (seriously, click on the above links). I will tell you that all of this centers on the question of CBF’s role as a “denomi-network” being a space of inclusion of those identifying as LGBTQ. The policy, and especially the implantation of the new recommended statement, has resulted in congregational findings that suggest “no.” While local Baptist churches still hold the autonomy to call who they want into positions of leadership, field personal and other leaders considered for “CBF Global” positions will have their sexuality questioned as part of the hiring process. So many emotions run through this outcome. Those I have spoken with about this are all over the spectrum. Some wanting to stay and fight from within while others are looking to walk away from CBF (much like those who started CBF walked away from the Southern Baptist Convention 25+ years ago over the inclusion of women in ministry). While all of this is troubling, here is what hit me the hardest as a local pastor; the CBF Governing Board members were just relaying the message of what they heard from local CBF churches…that most local CBF congregations are not ready.

That means that I, and pastors like myself, have not done enough to bring this issue to our congregations. That we have not shared the Gospel message of a God who “so loved the world…” That we have not been prophetic in calling to attention the needed question to those in our pews; are we as a people ready to accept, affirm, and accommodate God’s people who are LGBTQ into our midst? All the while being aware not to coerce, but encouraging true Soul Freedom.

And as much as it might be easy to stand around and point fingers at those on governing boards, the fact of the matter is it’s my fault this outcome happened. G.K. Chesterton said it best when answering the question of “what’s wrong with the world today?” he answered simply “I am.”

As Baptist, we should remember this; our dissent was not brought about from the top-down, but from the ground up. If changes are going to take place they need to happen first in our congregations. Approached from this angle, those on the governing board would have had no choice but to offer a different outcome. While some church leaders have done a great job in shepherding their congregations, I know I have work to do. Maybe you do to?

2)   The shooting which took place at Parkland High School in Florida.

29 mass shooting in 2018, this one leaving 17 dead.

To this I will say...

Yes, keep praying. Also pick up your phone and call your local representatives in order to change legislation surrounding the ability to purchase fire arms like the AR-15. Hunting rifles and handguns are one thing, but I cannot fathom the reasoning of citizens needing to purchase AR-15s and other semi-automatic weapons.

We have a gun problem “Murica.” Admit it. Repent of it. Take steps to reconcile it.

People are dying, My God, children are dying.

3)      And then there’s this…

So much could be said, but all I could come up with is this,

Members Only

The 1980s have returned in full force in modern US culture. The Netflix series Stranger Things is a smash it and the latest installment of Marvel’s Thor: Ragnarok was heavily laden with 80’s inspired synth music.

And the “Members Only” jacket is back in all its distinguishing glory.

"When you put it on...something happens."

Best. Tagline. Ever. (And certainly the most obvious, i.e. "I started my new Honda this morning and...something happened." Cheers to the Don Draper who came up with this)

The appeal of a marketed "members only" brand, however, was ingenious. Whether in the 1980s or in 2018, a symbol which indicates "who's in and who's out" will always draw a crowd.  I'm looking at you Apple, with your silly animal emojis...And while perhaps not as popular today, but certainly in the 80s, the iconic high school letter jacket. If there ever was a adolescent piece of clothing that perpetuated a distinct class system this was it.

Besides clothing, membership distinction is seen all throughout society. Think of "members dues" for social clubs. Establishments ranging from pretentious country clubs to even more pretentious dive bars require some sort of membership. Many moons ago, I had a key to the Rhino Club in Greensboro. You paid a fee and received a key to the place (I thought it was cool...I kinda still do). Again, great marketing strategy. Even Greek Life on America's college campuses requires yearly dues.

The talk of membership made its way into a conversation I was having with my students one Sunday morning. What does it take to be a church member? Before we even got going, I threw out a better question; have you ever seen anyone denied membership? I laid out the needed scenario. An individual who has been attending a church for several weeks walks the aisle during the invitation/altar call. They whisper something in the pastor's ear and, when the music ends, the pastor states that the individual wants to join the church. The congregation is then asked to solidify this acknowledgment by saying "Amen." Then comes the awkward moment when the pastor asks if there is anyone who would oppose the request. Silence. Always. Everyone claps and the new member is directed toward the doors of the church where they will be greeted with the "right hand of fellowship" by the entire congregation. Familiar story, right (at least for Baptist and other congregational churches)?

But what if that didn't happen? What if someone opposed someone else's membership?

If you didn't know, not long ago that was a common practice. To try and whittle down a large subject into a blog-sized post is daunting, and I admit there are more details then I'm touching on here. To get your questioning juices flowing, I'll leave you with this idea: Protestants needed something to replace Catholic Holy Mass & Communion (you know you are saved/belong because you take in the body and blood of Christ). The replacement had to be as rich and personal as communion, and thus became the significance of conversion. Conversion focused on the individual experience and testimony. So a few generations ago a person would come before a congregation asking to join in their fellowship. They were then asked to recount their conversion/salvation experience. If leadership saw their account to be authentic they allowed a "watch care" to take place which was covenant agreement between the person and the local church. I'll simplify this as "accountability" for both parties. After a certain amount a time, the person was allowed to become a full member of the congregation.

Now let me be clear, there is a distinction between being in the "body of Christ" vs. being a member of a local congregation/institution. Those who confess Christ is Lord are entitled to count themselves as part of the larger body of believers, however church membership deals with different requirements. First, let me tell you what it DOESN'T mean; the church keeps an eye on someone and judges every action taken in order to punish and shame. The church should not look for self-righteous works or people. INSTEAD, I see membership as another form of confession. When you join a local church you are aligning your beliefs, ideas, and causes with a collective body (everything doesn't always have to be exactly the same, but a common identity should be strived for). By becoming a member of a local church a person should feel confident in saying, “Yes, I'm on board with the vision and ministries of this church." If not, perhaps after visiting a church for several weeks and getting to know leadership, they should move on to a church where they feel their identity is more in sync. However, this often proves difficult...because if I (and maybe "we") am/are honest, churches have been notorious for not being sure what they stood for or what their purpose was. How can a church offer membership when it doesn’t know who it is?

For me, I think this raises more questions than answers. Being in seminary, I’m surrounded by a diverse body of believers (and non-believers). This space is one of inclusion, and please hear me, said space is desperately needed. And yet, is there room for discussion around exclusivity in church membership? The historical Church has never had a problem in naming heretics, establishing creeds, and orthodoxy to make the case for encompassing foundational beliefs. The Church has been handing out its own “Members Only” jackets for two millennium. If this is seen on a large scale, why hasn’t the local church been straightforward with what’s required for membership? Is leadership afraid to draw a line in the sand out of fear of alienating groups in their congregation resulting in vacant pews, or like Rob Bell, afraid of being labeled a heretic (side note: keep it up Rob, I still dig your stuff)? And yes, I understand viewing a church's website to see where they stand on some issues is helpful; such as their understanding of scripture and whether or not they affirm women and LGBTQ persons in ministry. My push back is while leadership and staff might understand the magnitude of these statements, does the rest of the congregation? To me it all boils down to this; what does it mean to be part of your church? How you answer this question is where you’ll find your membership requirement.

I didn’t come here to solve this problem. It’s much too big for one person. My hope is to raise awareness that better conversation around membership in our churches is needed. This starts with proclamation of what your local church is about. And while being a “physical representation of Christ on earth” looks nice on a coffee mug, we must be clearer about what that looks like in manifestation to our church bodies.

Guest Writer: Kenly Stewart

I want to start this post by saying it is a real honor for me to be writing for the Black Sheep Baptist Website and blog. Big shout out to my brother the Black Sheep Baptist himself, Mr. Justin Cox. I really appreciate the opportunity to share with your reader’s brother, and hopefully I don’t scare any of them away.  Full disclaimer everyone, I’m not technically a Baptist (being raised a fundamentalist Southern Baptist will do that to you).  Currently I attend an Episcopal church, but I like to consider myself a hybrid between the Episcopal and historic Baptist traditions….. an “Episco-Baptist” if you will. When Justin asked me to write for the blog I immediately said yes, but for the life of me I couldn’t figure out what I wanted to write about. Drawing upon my Baptist roots, I turned to the place with all the answers (according to evangelicals anyways), the Bible. And you know what? I found what I was looking for:

Opening up the Bible, looking for inspiration for this post, I found myself entranced by the opening verses of the Book of Habakkuk:

2 “O Lord, how long shall I cry for help,
    and you will not listen?
Or cry to you “Violence!”
    and you will not save?
3 Why do you make me see wrongdoing
    and look at trouble?
Destruction and violence are before me;
    strife and contention arise.
4 So the law becomes slack
    and justice never prevails.
The wicked surround the righteous—
    therefore judgment comes forth perverted.”

– Habakkuk 1:2-4 (NRSV)

The title of the above section is “The Prophet’s Complaint” and man did it blow me away. To be perfectly honest I am not sure I had ever read the Book of Habakkuk, and if you had asked me if it was a book of the Old Testament I would have probably said NO WAY!!! And that is the power of scripture my friends, reading it is always a surprise.

These opening verses of Habakkuk made me wrestle with the question “Is it okay to question God?” Maybe a more honest way of asking this question, “Is it okay to question an ALL powerful God?” Well if you are like me, you were raised in a church that stressed the idea of never questioning God and always being obedient. Yet Habakkuk shows us there is a biblical precedent for questioning God and voicing our “complaints.” And Habakkuk does not pull his punches!!! Habakkuk says (maybe even yells) that God refuses to “listen” and will not “save,” yet God forces him to “look at trouble” and the “destruction and violence” that surrounds him. Habakkuk is not only questioning God, he is pissed off with God.

So if a prophet of the Old Testament is allowed to question and be angry with God, it must be okay. Yet I want to take it further than simply saying it is okay to question God, I want to say it is necessary and healthy to question God. So many people get trapped in the idea (taught in church) of not questioning God that it leads to them rejecting God. And who can blame them? We are taught that we worship an all powerful but loving God but turn on the news. Look at the millions of starving and orphaned children in the world. In America we have elected officials coldly dismissing the countries these children live in as “shitholes.” To quote Habakkuk it appears “justice never prevails” and “the wicked surround the righteous.”

If we believe we cannot question God when we see the terrible and heartbreaking events around the world, no wonder it can lead to a rejection of God. If we are in a relationship with God, and we want it to grow stronger, we must be able to question God. I would also argue that not only is questioning God necessary for a mature faith, but questioning God is a mark of faithfulness. We question God when we are confronted with the wickedness of the world because we know that is not what God intends for creation. Who is the more faithful? The individual who hardens their heart in “obedience” to God to avoid questioning God? Or is the individual who pours out their hearts for their neighbors and faithfully questions God for answers?

In conclusion I humbly admit I have not solved the problem of evil, I will leave that for Justin (good luck brother). My hope is by using the Prophet Habakkuk I have encouraged you to be bold and question God when you see things that go against your understanding of God’s goodness. Yet some may still be stuck, how can we question an all powerful God? Others may ask why an all powerful God would allow these things to take place. Good questions and my answer is we need to QUESTION (see what I did there) our understanding of “an all-powerful God.” As Christians we worship an abused, crucified, and resurrected God. Our human understanding of an “all-powerful” or “superman” God is not the same as the “all-powerful God” revealed through Christ. We should also remember in one of his most human moments in the Gospels, Jesus questions why he needs to die in the Garden of Gethsemane.

So my friends my encouragement is to follow the example of Habakkuk and Jesus. Go out and serve God in love, and never be afraid to question God in love as well.

Thanks for reading,

-          Kenly Stewart

What Are You Carrying? A Terse Response to WFU Shooting.

Via. NY Times article. Link Below.

Last Saturday morning, I woke to a missed phone call from the Wake (Forest University) Alert system. The message informed me that late Friday night, an altercation occurred involving several individuals at The Barn, a student-centered social space on campus.  A shooting took place resulting in the death of 21-year-old Najee Ali Baker, a student at Winston-Salem State University.

A lot has been said.

A lot has been written.

Suspects were identified, some apprehended and at least one still being sought.

Candles were lit and a vigil held.

According to the NY Times article that makes 11 school shootings just this year.

And now, as we enter into a space between the tears and the next shots fired, I’m waiting on number 12.

Let me say right here and right now what needs to be said, “We the people of the United States have a problem.” Naturally, this leads those of us who call this nation home to ask questions, none more important than, “What the hell is wrong with us?”

Call it shared selective hearing, or as Dr. Michael Eric Dyson suggested this past week when he visited the campus of WFU, America suffers from a form of amnesia; we forget easily and move on too soon. This could be applied to many different issues our nation faces today, but most certainly surrounding all issues relating to the trigger word “guns.”

I don’t think I need to rehash stances people and political parties have taken on the issue. Whether you view guns and gun laws as constitutional rights or as a new form of idolatry, both stances stem from “gun culture” in the United States. You can say you support the 2nd Amendment and produce a small arsenal in your home to prove it, or you can beat guns into plows like Shane Claiborne and company. What you cannot do is escape into a place where gun culture doesn’t exist.

I grew up as part of a culture being in the South; a culture full of atrocities and virtues for me to identify with and be shaped by. A culture producing some of the finest manifestations of art, literature, and music in the world today, and yet too often, we’ve historically chosen to be identified differently. You see any culture worth its salt produces a “collective achievement”, and personally, I just don’t see “guns” falling into that category.  Sure, guns provide home protection and produce wild game for those so inclined, but a gun should never be lumped into the same category as the writings of Flannery O'Connor, the art of Mose Tolliver, and the music of Hank Williams.

There are two kinds of “cold chills” in this world. One I’ve experienced is the heart-wrenching sounds of Appalachian fiddle and banjo depicting love, loss, and hope around a campfire. The other, late night phone calls from university officials informing all to lock their doors and stay inside. One resonates and inspires, the other makes me wonder why someone needs a pistol to attend a college party?

We as a diverse nation need to ask ourselves what “cold chills” we want to experience.  We need to ask ourselves what kind of culture we want to create and pass down. We need to realize and own our failure. We need to raze the gun culture we’ve allowed to consume us, and bring forward a new culture where carrying your heart on your sleeve is desired more than what you can conceal and carry.

Butt Paste, Snotsuckers, and all things Holy.

Just so ya'll know, this is going in Violet's baby book. 

“We have Biblical authority for believing that it is ‘more blessed to give than receive’ but what the Bible does not point out is that it is more difficult to receive than to give!”

~C.S Lewis from a letter to Vera Mathews, April 26th, 1949

I've preached a fair amount of sermons in my short call as a minister. While I still get a few “butterflies in my stomach” before standing behind the pulpit, the opportunity reminds me I that, for whatever reason, am comfortable in the position of standing in the public eye. However, those who know me better can attest to the fact that I recoil when being singled out, particularly when it comes to receiving any sort of praise or accolades.

For me, it just seems odd to receive anything. I much prefer to be the person giving recognition to someone else. I’m not sure if I’ve always been like this? Maybe others who have known me longer could share some not so flattering stories about me! Yet, since becoming a minister the sense to always be the one that gives is palatable and most often self-imposed. Mentors and seminary professors have taught me the importance of self-care, but let’s just say old habits die hard.

I was reminded of my welcomed uneasiness this past week. Lauren and I were graciously treated to two “baby showers” put together by two different communities we are part of; our church and some of my fellow classmates at Wake Divinity and Lauren’s co-workers. People turned out to support us by buying and making food and gifting us with LOADS of first-time parents necessities (I am now the personal owner of butt paste and a snotsucker…it’s for the baby, not me). We sat in front of groups of people as they watched us unwrap presents and gobble up desserts. All eyes are on you and there is no escape.

I should say, there is no escape…from the outpouring of compassion, affection, and love. And for those reasons, I count us fortunate.

In John’s Gospel account Jesus is meeting with his disciples for the last time. They have shared a meal together, bread was broken and wine was poured. Then Jesus stands up, removes his outer robe, and ties a towel around himself. He then makes his way toward each disciple, washing each of their feet (even Judas…take a few minutes and let that sink in). Peter, one of the inner three, protests, exclaiming it should be I doing this to you Lord. Jesus explains to all present, I’m demonstrating a way of life I want you to live. If I your Lord and teacher do this for you, you should see that I mean for you to do the same for each other. By doing this you will be blessed.

When we allow others to wash our feet or be a blessing to us we are allowing the way of Jesus to manifest itself in the world. The veil between heaven and earth is made thinner, and God’s will is being done on earth as it is in heaven.

That is why I was uncomfortable this past week. When you come in contact with something holy, such as an outpouring of blessing, it’s enough to make you squirm and attempt to look away. The prophet Isaiah hit the ground and covered his face when he envisioned the Lord in the Temple. When people hand you a swaddling cloth, a pair of tiny socks, or a book you’ll read to your daughter as she grows up…your face hits the ground like Isaiah’s because you see the good in this world and it’s almost too much to bear.

And like Peter, you’ll want to return the favor.

Lauren and I thank you all for your love and support.

As you were,

~tBSB

The Life I Live Requires Exposure.

This article is part of YouthMinistryConversations 2018 series entitled "The Life..." Big thanks to them for putting my piece on display. You can read the original article, and check out the rest of their site, HERE.

This (past) summer I found myself for the second time at a Christian summer camp. Full disclosure here; summer camps are a relatively new adventure for me. During my youth I spent the majority of my summers with my great aunts in a house with no indoor plumbing and air conditioning. When I became a Student Pastor several years ago I began the task of crafting “summer mission trips” to either the beach or the mountains here in North Carolina and surrounding states. It wasn’t until my current ministry setting where I was introduced to a Christian Summer Camp. Many of my youth have attended this same camp since they were in 6th grade (most of the high school students have been 5-6 times).

For me camps, be they more retreat based or missional, provide an opportunity for me to connect with students in an entirely different way. It’s one thing to meet up with them a couple of times a week for church related events, but spending a consecutive amount of time with them in a communal setting is something else. Sharing living space breaks down walls in a way traditional Sunday School cannot. These moments are where I feel “relational and presence-centered” ministry take place.

As the week at camp began I found myself thinking; why does this type of bonding generally happen at places like this?

A word that became my mantra for the week was exposure.

When folks are together for extended amounts of time they tend to start letting their guard down. A trust begins to form almost by osmosis. When you only have one bathroom with six other guys you have to learn to be comfortable with one another!

However, the notion of exposure to one another is just one example.

As I mentioned before, I’m a bit new at this summer camp thing. Had it not been for my appointment at my current church I don’t know if I would have ever attended a Christian summer camp. What the students of my current church, and their families, have done over the past year was expose me to a sub-culture that I haven’t been privy to before. And like most instances of exposure, I had to adjust to the areas where I felt uncomfortable. Often times the word uncomfortable implies a bad connotation. Yet, when viewed through the “lens of faith” being uncomfortable is something followers of Jesus should strive towards. Most of my growth as a Christian has taken place in theses uncomfortable moments.

Allow me to elaborate. When left to my own devices, I tend to stay in a certain “camp” of thinking. In my theology surrounding God I tend to view issues through my own understanding and life experiences (I don’t consider myself an authority on much, but concerning myself no one knows more). I listen to pastors who have a similar view as me and read theologians who share my same approach. Needless to say, I enjoy nodding my head more than I do shaking it.

I’ve come to see that being in this type of continuous setting doesn’t produce a lot of growth, particularly in the spiritual maturity department. What is spiritual maturity you ask? Perhaps the simplest explanation I can give would be how one understands faith, God, the Bible etc…at the age of 10 versus when they’re 60. People grow in many different areas of their lives and an individual’s faith should be no exception.

I once heard a pastor use an expression concerning spiritual growth and how one should eat fish; Eat the meat, leave the bone. I’ve taken the expression seriously in how I approach listening to different schools of thought surrounding faith. Being exposed to something new gives me the opportunity to truly ask myself why I’m so comfortable with a certain way of thinking. It encourages me to apply critical thinking skills to subjects I only approach from my own perspective. It causes me to be pulled, stretched, and maybe acquires a few proverbial stitches.

And I know I’m better off for it. Those encounters help me realize I don’t have all the answers. Nor do I have too. That’s what those other opposing voices are for. I need their voice and they need mine and somewhere in that beautiful mess I think a tiny grain of truth is found.

My time at camp this year has been one of those encounters. My students, through a relationship of trust that is still growing, exposed me to something I couldn’t have experienced without them.

This trust is what allowed me, after discussing with my students the incidents in Charlottesville VA, to take some of them to a peace vigil being held in our city. For most of them, this was the first peace vigil they had ever attended. They were surrounded by people who didn’t look like them, who worshipped differently, and heard a message which asked them to look at the situation from another viewpoint. We are still unpacking this moment in our youth group, but I know we were able to have this uncomfortable exposing conversation because I trust them and they trust me. This should be our desired goal in ministry; to expose others to a side of the Gospel which they might not see and desire for them to return the favor.

Embrace Your Conviction.

My Brother's Keeper, print by artist Watson Mere

Not long after being called to my current church, I remember talking with the senior pastor about the state of the world.

“Crazy times,” I said.

“All times are crazy,” he said back.

Amen to that.

Last week the President of the United States allegedly made derogatory remarks towards African countries as well the nation of Haiti. Both political parties are running to defend their respected positions. Some saying this was taken out of context, some saying this was a blatant act of racism and bigotry. The President himself even chimed in denying the entire incident.

I don’t know who to believe but, like one of my seminary professors said recently, someone is lying.

It was that same seminary professor who posted on social media earlier this week that he would be reaching out to local North Carolina elected officials urging them to make a public statement denouncing the President’s remarks...whether they happened or not.   

As an ordained clergy and a person of faith, I’ve often felt I’ve existed outside of the political spectrum. I loathe politics for the same reason I believe most do; I see corruption and lack of transparency. I often feel detached with the governing body of these United States because it seems so convoluted. I simply don’t know who or what to believe. All of this has produced in me a sense of disenfranchisement and an attitude of extreme apathy. If the church and state are to be separated, then I know what camp I’m sitting up with. Hard not to see now why my fascination with Anabaptist has been on the rise.

Like many, I saw the irony in the delivery of these horrendous comments coming just days before the Martin Luther King Jr. holiday (not to mention the lectionary reading from this past Sunday). I’ve taken in all this divine providence during the past few days, watching voices rise up from all over. Opinions of the masses! Some directly calling for a public apology from the President and others admitting to all who would listen that it didn’t matter if the President said it or not…these countries were “shitholes” and were a burden on themselves and for those nations that administered aid to them.

My plan was to tune all this out. Call it apathy, privilege, or frustration. I would rather operate from my own position and concentrate on the relationships within my community where I feel change and understanding have a better chance of taking root. I don’t know if it was my professor’s post or the reminder of MLK’s work and sacrifice, but I found myself not wanting to let this one go. For the first time, I’ve decided to engage my local politicians. King in his essence was a Baptist preacher, a position requires a dissenting responsibility, who called on those proclaiming faith to disobey unjust laws. I was reminded that I don’t get to hide behind the pulpit and under my stole. I am to speak prophetically not only in the church and to the church, but when necessary on the public stage in a manner which speaks up against injustice and exploitation to systems of power that look to take advantage of those suffering; be they in the inner cities, the mountains of the Appalachia, or on the devastated country of Haiti. In the United States we claim all are created equal (well men anyway, smh) but in the Kingdom of God, all are made in the imago dei.

So, I’m reaching out with whatever influence I have to those who claim representation here in NC. I figure I’ll start there and see what happens. My professor has dedicated himself to calling these representatives every day. I, a product of the times, am taking to Twitter to encourage these same individuals to denounce the alleged statements by the Trump administration, and to emphatically make clear that we as a nation do not view other people (for that is what nations are made of, people) as excremental waste.

Let King’s words push us all to act,

“The ultimate measure of a man is not where he stands in moments of comfort and convenience, but where he stands at times of challenge and controversy.”

“In the end, we will remember not the words of our enemies, but the silence of our friends.”

Allow your conviction to be your platform. Stand on one, use the other, and get to it. 

An Abdicated Throne

I belong to several different clergy specific groups on Facebook. At least once a week either someone in the group will post or share an interesting church sign they’ve seen via the internet. Signs like the ones below.   

Sometimes the humor is as corny as contemporary Christain music...

Other times there, well, just kinda awkward...

And then there are those that make you wonder what type of people enter the building and call themselves the "Body of Christ."

Church signs can offer those passing by a building an idea of the kind of people who attend services there. Before the rise of super cool scrolling websites, church signs acted as the means of communication conveying the service times and the name of the preaching pastor. Newer signs might even point folks to a website for more information. If the church's budget is big enough and sign space is available, one might even catch a "vision/mission statement" posted for all to see. What's a mission statement? It's sort of a formal summary of the aims and values of a company, organization, individual, or in this case a church. 

I saw a mission statement this week that floored me. It was perhaps the best church mission statement I had ever seen. It was simple. It was poignant. It wasn't cheesy. It had a very clear and direct theological edge to it. 

But it wasn't in front of a church...

Planet Fitness, the real-life Average Joe’s Gym, beat the Church to the punch. Often times the culture in which we currently are part of gets a pretty bad rap. It's the culture's fault that families don't come to church anymore. It's the culture's fault for having sports matches on days that students could be doing mission work. It's the culture's fault for taking Jesus out of public schools. It's the culture's fault for __________ (insert your own deflection).

Maybe, just maybe, it's not the culture's fault. Maybe its the church's fault for abdicating its position to lead. "It (the Church) might have determined their success or failures, but it failed to act. It waited until government took the initiative to rescue human rights." Will Campbell in his work Race and Renewal of the Church,  is talking about the church's role in race relations during the Civil Rights era. Because the church didn't act within her nature, society began to look elsewhere to hear and see what they knew to be true and right; the equality of all.

Now here we are, 2018, and the church is still missing its opportunity to lead. We're letting Planet Fitness beat us to the punch. 

Lord help us. Amen.   

When in doubt, head the opposite way.

So...

This looks pretty official.

Something I have been wanting to do for several months was to attach an image to the Black Sheep Baptist banner. After a few weeks of searching around and talking ideas, I found a designer on Etsy who sent me several concepts one of them being the above piece. I wanted nothing flashy, something simple, and “black and white“ was a must. I think I got what I was looking for…

I often say I don’t know where this black sheep journey is going to take me. My writings and blog are a mixture of me processing my own personal questions concerning faith while also giving me a small platform to lend my misfit voice. I like the idea of going in the opposite direction of others, a contrarian per se. Seeing this image with the sheep seemingly headed left instead of right I took as a affirming sign...

Keep heading in that dissident direction.

Cheers,

~tBSB

Measuring Up.

I’m always astonished how the mind, particularly concerning the comprehension of memory, works. All sorts of things can trigger a memory. A song can come across a playlist that takes me back to 1995, or the smell of oatmeal cookies can transplant me back to my great aunt Minnie’s kitchen. These memories are more direct, but often it’s the completely randomness of a situation which can trigger a moment I haven’t thought about in years.

This week it was seeing the re-opening of a Chick-fil-A here in Winston-Salem.

Complete. Utter. Beautiful. Randomness.  

Lauren and I were in the car when I noticed the restaurant was open. For unknown reasons, my mind went to an old sermon I had heard from a pastor of a large church in Wilmington, NC. The pastor had worked there while in high school, stayed connected during college, and believed upon graduation he would continue with the company. Of course things changed, and during the interview process for a lucrative job within the corporation he confessed to his would- be- boss his “call” to go into ministry. The boss man was disappointed, but affirmed that the young man should do what he felt called to do. It was a good personal testimony type story and obviously I remembered it.

But the memory wouldn’t stop there, and my mind within a matter of seconds decided to venture down several different “rabbit holes.”

I began to think of how this pastor’s church had been very significant to me in my faith journey.

It was my first exposure to any type of “contemporary” church. A building that didn’t look like a typical church building, a worship experience with a full band and crazy lights, and a pastor who wore flip flops on stage.

It introduced me to “small groups.” Small groups were essential because the church was HUGE. I had been to what I thought a large church was, but seeing several thousand people meet over the course of the weekend was something new.

This is probably where I, for the first time, began to think theologically on issues. Meaning; we were presented with concepts and asked to discuss it within our groups. However, looking back now, I believe we were supposed to have come to the same conclusions. Yet, I did find the ability to develop my voice in this space.

It was the thought of “finding my voice” which made me remember one particular incident.

One of the groups the church had was geared towards new believers. I went through the class and really enjoyed it. At the end of several weeks, one of the leaders/facilitators approached me and said I should check into becoming a small group leader. I think what he saw in me was an eagerness to be involved and that I wasn’t afraid to talk in a discussion oriented environment (and come on, churches are always looking for volunteers). I sat in for a couple of weeks as an assisting facilitator, just helping drive and spark conversation. I felt it was a good fit and was super excited to pursue becoming a small group leader. Part of the process was training, but before that, one needed to meet with what I will describe now as the Small Group Pastor. This was the individual who oversaw all the leadership training and material taught during small group meetings. Think “CEO” type figure.

I met with this individual one afternoon and was told I was unfit to be a leader.

I remember the seemingly polite yet curt tone of their voice. The word “expectation” was used several times with different examples; one being that I shouldn’t be seen downtown going into Front Street Brewery. I can remember sitting there feeling like a kid in the principle office getting chastised for something I didn’t fully understand. Here I was a young person in my twenties who wanted to be at church. Hell, not only be, but wanted to help. And yet, according to this person, I didn’t measure up. I was told I needed to “do this and that” and perhaps later we could revisit the possibility of me volunteering. I left our meeting feeling insufficient and defeated.

It was one of the last times I ever went to church there.

In retrospect, I believe this person thought they were doing me a favor. I believe they thought they were holding me and themselves accountable to what they saw as biblical qualifications for leadership. I want to assume they had the best intentions for me, even though they really didn’t know me that well. Perhaps they felt they needed more time to judge my character? Honestly, I’m not sure…a decade has gone by and I don’t think I’ll ever get the full reason behind the decision. Not only am I okay with that, I’m thankful.

I’m thankful I didn’t listen to that person. I’m thankful I didn’t give them the finally word.

I left Wilmington shortly after this and found I did have a place to help volunteer and lead. I was encouraged by people in a positive way to pursue what I thought God had for me. I was told to ask questions, look into theological education, and get involved. I know it was the affirming voices I heard when I submitted my resume to the divinity school secretary at Campbell University. It was the affirming voices I heard when a church actually called me for an interview. It was those affirming voices I heard when I was offered my first youth minister position. Those affirming voices carried and granted me a confidence which I learned to grow into. The difference I believe from what those voices offered and the voice of that small group pastor in Wilmington was intention. I believe one wanted to correct me, while the other wished to guide me.

2018 will mark my 6th year in ministry. I’m thankful for all the voices which got me here, both good and bad. My hope for the New Year is to be an affirming voice for someone. To tell them they belong and how their voice is needed.

What would I say to that individual now, the one who told me I was unfit and was worried about me going into a brewery?

Let me tell you about this couple I prayed with in a bar one night. Their adult child was extremely sick. We talked, we prayed, and we drank Guinness together. It was an absolutely holy moment. Try not to affirm that.

 Cheers.

A Reawakening

A longer post derived from a paper I wrote during the Fall 2017 semester.

A Reawakening

A Reconciling of Modern Baptist Faith in Regards to Anabaptist Teachings Concerning Oath Taking.

            The division over Baptist origins is palpable. While several different starting points are often cited, the one with the most mythology has to be the Anabaptist connection. While Landmarkism offered the view of Baptist faith being present in apostolic times, a Protestant heresy dealing with secessionism if there ever was one, a more commonly accepted explanation comes from the English Separatist Movement. Here the account of John Smyth and Thomas Helwys as the original founders of the Baptist faith is laid out. The Anabaptist connection, while either directly or simply spiritual in essence, bestowed upon Baptists in the 16th and 17th centuries and extending through today, offered many different influences ranging from the practice of baptism, the stance on war, and the separation of church and state. While individually these distinctions offer insight, they are rooted in a common understanding of swearing fealty and oath taking. Post modern Baptists have dissociated themselves from this concept and have unfortunately missed out on a viable tenet which possesses both historical and contemporary significance in how their confessed faith is practiced. If a correlation is found, Baptists today would need to question their voice on issues of the separation of church and state and their devotion to certain political parties. These issues revolve around a single question; what or whom does one swear to?

            Baptist Walter Shurden states in his work Not A Silent People that Baptists have always disagreed about their past to some degree, but recently have taken a laissez faire attitude toward their history and resorted to the phrase “let bygones be bygones.” However, Shurden is quick in not letting modern Baptists off the hook so easily. “That attitude is o.k., except for the impossibility of it. Bygones are not just bygones. Our bygones are not has-beens. They are still with us, helping and shortchanging us, damning and redeeming us, perverting and saving us.”[1] In Shurden’s opinion Baptists’ bygones are present whether they want to admit them or not. In other words, yes, the past is behind us, but only right behind us.

            Scholars such as Winthrop Hudson rejected Anabaptist influence, citing that modern Baptists are the result of English Congregationalism which identifies them more with Calvinistic and Puritan understandings of the Christian faith.[2] Hudson believed a more accurate commonality existed between modern Baptists with those called Particular Baptists who in the early years of the Reformation accepted oath swearing and rejected pacifism. In contrast, William Estep was a supporter of Anabaptist influence and referenced similarities between Anabaptist sects like the Dutch Mennonites to the early General Baptist group. “They not only practiced believers’ baptism but also held religious liberty, separation of the church and state, and Arminian views of salvation, predestination and original sin.”[3] More still, both groups “objected to swearing oaths, preferred a threefold ministry, and held a peculiar Hofmanite Christology which said Christ did not take His human flesh from Mary.”[4] Baptists have longed practiced dissidence within their own faith communities, Hudson and Estep continue the ongoing legacy of Baptists who disagree, much like those who represented General and Particular Baptist groups. Yet, the key component is that these men, and early faith communities, pulled from what they felt was a common source at least up to a point. While one can still see the direct influence of Particular Baptists and their Calvinistic understanding in modern Reformed Baptist traditions, a dogma of thinking which has found its way into the modern Southern Baptist Convention, one wonders of the lasting connection with those who come from the General Baptist tradition and hold closer to Anabaptist practices.

Iconoclast Baptist preacher Will D. Campbell was fixated on a shared Anabaptist ancestry.  In his fictional work, The Glad River, he tells the story of Mississippi Baptist Doops Momber who goes off to war and starts a close friendship with two other young men lasting a life time. Campbell’s character Doops has troubling thoughts about the act of baptism from an early age. His mother continues to pressure him about it before and after the war. Throughout the book Doops gives somewhat vague responses as to why he hasn’t been baptized nor saw it happening in his foreseeable future. It is only near the end of the book where Doops is sitting on the witness stand during a murder trial involving one of his close friends, Fordache, does he share with the reader his most clear answer as to why. During the scene, Doops is questioned about a fictional story he wrote while recovering from illness in an army hospital. Doops writes of a group of Christian believers living in Holland in the early 16th century. On the stand, Doops said he was inspired by a book entitled Martyrs Mirror which a pastor had given to him as a young boy. Doops's character is being questioned by the prosecuting attorney for not having been baptized. When Doops's counsel has the chance to cross examine his client the following conversation ensues;

‘What did the people you wrote about believe?” he said again. What made them different?’

‘They did not believe in baptizing infants. And because they did not believe in taking human life, would not go to war. They did not believe in the death penalty so they were not allowed to serve on juries. They believed the Church and the State should be completely separate. They would not swear, because they understood the scripture to forbid it. They led simple lives, did not engage in politics. And some of them, a few of them, practiced community of goods.’

‘And what exactly was that? ‘Community of goods’?’

‘They had a common treasury. Property and possessions were owned by the community, not the individuals. It was the only way they could survive in times of persecution.’

‘Mr. Momber, you admired the people you wrote about, didn’t you?’

‘Yes, sir. I still do.’

‘Do you know anybody like that today? Like they were?

‘No, sir. Not so far.’

‘And if you found someone like they were, would you ask them to baptize you?’

‘Yes, sir.’[5]

 Campbell, through his character of Doops Momber, would suggest the kind of Baptist he was searching for was believed extinct. Campbell affirms his belief of an Anabaptist connection, seemingly suggesting the last fire warming this idea by modern observance had grown dim but had not completely been snuffed out.

            With enough shared support of some relation, while debatable, between Anabaptist and modern Baptist, the issue comes to whether any modern Baptists still hold to Anabaptist tenets. The reason for the debate is linked to the lack of practice seen. How would one compare these differences? One of the earliest confessions expressing a standard set of beliefs is the Schleitheim Confession from 1527. The confession, attributed to a group of Anabaptist led by Michael Sattler, consisted of seven articles. The last of these dealt with oath taking.

Christ, who teaches the perfection of the Law, prohibits all swearing to His [followers], whether true or false, - neither by heaven, nor by the earth, nor by Jerusalem, nor by our head, - and that for the reason which He shortly gives, For you are not able to make one hair white or black. So you see it is for this reason that all swearing is forbidden: we cannot fulfill that wich we promise when we swear, for we cannot change [even] the very least thing on us.[6]

 The gravity of oath taking affected many of the other six articles, such as the community's shared beliefs around non-violence and the self imposed separation from the evils of the world. “To us then the command of the Lord is clear when He calls upon us to be separate from the evil and thus He will be our God and we shall be His sons and daughters.”[7] This form of separation from the world would include refraining from holding governmental positions of power, specifically that of a magistrate. Failure to uphold these beliefs would result in “the ban” a form of excommunication.

            To ban members along with the imposed removal of oneself from society is extreme. Special attention and reflection are meant to be given to those like the Amish who have separated themselves from the cultural norms and worldly ways. While not openly observed, most modern Baptists could practice such beliefs if they so desired. Of all the differences between Baptists, all would agree upon the virtue of freedom. For most Baptists, these freedoms are often referred to as “fragile” since they are loosely held with determination and are not to be confused with any sort of creed. Bible, Soul, Church, and Religious freedom grant Baptists today with the autonomous ability to decide for themselves what they emphasize in their faith.

            For those observing Baptist life today in the 21st century, one would think swearing allegiance to a cause or country was required, and this thought could be supported and traced back to Particular Baptist roots. Where are the descendents of the General Baptists with their “fragile” affiliation to Anabaptists?

The customary Anabaptist objection to the oath was based on a literal interpretation of Christ’s injunction against swearing. However, it also had reference to the qualitative aspects of the Christian witness. For the Christian, Anabaptist believed the oath was unnecessary because the Anabaptist was always under the obligation to tell the truth. It was impossible because no one had the power over all circumstances in this life to order them subject to his own will, which an oath in their eyes implied.[8]

 To swear loyalty to a governing body would be to suggest the powers of said body had influence over those of individual mandates determined by God. The separation which both Anabaptist and early Baptists would come to be defined by would imply ruling persons or institutions possessed the right to interfere with the relationship between the individual and God. In the same manner, Anabaptists did not see themselves as re-baptizers since they saw their infant baptism as invalid, so to swear or take an oath meant that additional acknowledgments had to be made which essentially made being a Christian insufficient  when it came to the matters of giving testimony. The reasons these affiliations are “fragile” are because no modern Baptist proclaim this freedom, and freedom needs to be expressed in order to be recognized. There lies an individual component to the Baptist identity; the ability for a person to express their faith in the means they hold to be sacred. And this revelation is not meant for just those professing the Baptist faith! What makes the Baptist tenet of expressing their religious freedom so unique is the desire fo others to experience the same freedom, be they Christians or not.

            Modern Baptists in the West exist in a time and place very different than their spiritual ancestors. Those who were once persecuted have now become the majority. The United States claims that just over 70% of their citizens are Christians[9], and of that amount over 15 million are Southern Baptist[10] (the largest Protestant denomination in the U.S.). Along with other groups like the American and National Baptists, the once small and underground movement has now becoming a formidable juggernaut with considerable influence. During the 1980’s the term Moral Majority was coined by Baptist minister Jerry Falwell. Falwell performed a number of large rallies under the banner “I Love America.” Falwell and others fundamentalists, who would be designated as the New Religious Right, would ask those who shared similar views to rally around their country and swear an unwavering loyalty to the state. James Dunn would speak to this by saying, “The same revisionist working for present fundamentalist leadership of the nation’s largest Baptist body (SBC) have trouble coming to terms with Baptist heritage.”[11] This heritage Dunn refers to flows from the same source which produced Michael Sattler and Conrad Grebel. The loss of this relationship has left modern Baptists with a one-sided story.

            For Modern Baptists to swear allegiance goes against the very nature of a people who claim to be anti-creedal. With a creed representing a set of core beliefs, the freedom to hold to those beliefs is where Baptists have been, at their best, advocates for a right intended for all. A distinction should be pointed out between the difference of swearing an oath and confession of one’s faith.  

Despite varieties of length, authorship, and content, all the early confessions were just that: confessions. Early Baptist never elevated their confessions to the status of creeds. Twentieth-century usage makes less difference between confession and creeds, but the differences were both real and important to early Baptist. A confession affirms what a group of Baptist, large of small, believes at any given time and place; a creed prescribes what members must believe. Confessions include; creeds exclude.[12]

 Nationalism is creedal in the way it excludes those who are not part of whatever country is demanding loyalty. Early Baptists understood the state within itself as not being solely evil or opposed to God, but the power and principalities which the state could create by means of its people could begin to oppose God and thus cause persons to inflict harm on one another.  The state was ordained by God to carry out certain functions, such as to oversee the punishment of criminals and to help establish order in a chaotic world. Offices, such as magistrate, were formed to uphold these laws. Yet, the state had no jurisdiction over the right of how an individual practiced their religion. This indicates the state could not enforce or coerce a person to do so, which makes sense, because a person is not enforced or coerced by God. “This position was derived from the Anabaptist conviction that faith cannot be coerced.”[13] A direct time can be seen here in this Anabaptist understanding and modern Baptists who believe in Soul Freedom. Soul Freedom implies that no one should be forced to believe a certain way concerning religion, and this shared belief of a coercion free faith is what supports the Baptist idea of a voluntary conversion as being on par with a sacramental experience. “To try and make someone believe what they honestly don’t believe exploits both the individual and the biblical meaning of faith.[14]

            This is not to say that all Anabaptists or Early General Baptists were Christian anarchists. In the case of General Baptists, most would affirm their loyalty to the crown, but would refuse to take the following step of reciting an oath. Even with their admitted support, the lack of a given oath cost them dearly as they suffered different forms of harassment and persecution. This caused some General Baptists by the late 17th century to change their views and become more open to oaths, accepting them as worldly authorities which still allowed the separation between church and state on some level. Even with this alteration, most General Baptists of the time would not allow their members to serve as magistrates. The apparent disdain for the office of magistrate might have been the result of the martyrdom of Michael Sattler who professed to the officials charging him with heresy that they had judged him falsely since he and his fellow Anabaptists had done nothing to challenge the local authorities. It was clearly believed magistrates had acted out of their role towards Sattler and others, and both Anabaptists and early Baptists held the memory of his trial as being an abuse of power acted out by the state. During his trial Sattler also made the distinction of recognizing and affirming the power of the magistrate in state concerns, but disregarded their authority when it came to anything dealing with spiritual matters. As James Dunn once said, “Believing in the separation of church and state doesn’t make one a Baptist. But it is hard to believe that one could be a Baptist and not cling tenaciously to that baptistic doctrine.”[15]

            One of the norms of Christian theology is the lived experience of the individual. To acknowledge the connection between early Baptists and Anabaptists means those who claim this inheritance must live into the call it presents before them. The lived experience is justified in Baptist life by freedoms previously discussed in this article; Bible, Church, Soul, and Religious Freedom. These allow Baptists to be nonconforming on the matters of oaths and on the subject of creeds. While creeds point to how a people or generation understood their faith they are in essence exhaustive. They represent the intentions of a time, and while granting insight, should encourage those of faith to search for new meaning. Not swearing towards comprehensive list of what being a Baptist looks like is exactly the point and beauty of being a Baptist. Meaning, one can claim Anabaptist influence and ancestry if desired. William Powell Tuck says it this way, “As Baptists, we affirm no theological statement is ever final or complete. No one person or group of persons can formulate our theology for us and say that this is what we have to believe. Our forefathers and mothers have fought and died for this tradition.”[16] This goes for the past as well, no one group gets full credit for what modern Baptists are today. The shared characteristics of the Anabaptists should be embraced and be weaved into the Baptist story of faith and appreciated for all the diversity it brings. Many voices comprise a chorus. Modern Baptists would do well to remember the compelling voices of their Anabaptist forbearers.  

[1] Shurden, Walter B. Not a Silent People: Controversies that have shaped Southern Baptists. (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys Pub., 1995), 9

[2] MacBeth, H. Leon. The Baptist Heritage. (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1987), 51

[3] Ibid., 53

[4] Ibid., 53

[5] Campbell, Will D. The Glad River. (New York, NY: Holt, Rinehart and Winston, 1982), 245

[6] The Schleitheim Confession, 1527

[7] Ibid.

[8] Estep, William R. The Anabaptist story: an introduction to sixteenth-century Anabaptism. (Grand Rapids (Mich.): Eerdmans, 1996), 261

[9] Wormald, Benjamin. "Religious Landscape Study." Pew Research Center's Religion & Public Life Project. May 11, 2015. Accessed December 14, 2017. http://www.pewforum.org/religious-landscape-study/.

[10] "Southern Baptist Convention." Southern Baptist Convention > Fast Facts About the SBC. Accessed December 18, 2017. http://www.sbc.net/BecomingSouthernBaptist/FastFacts.asp.

[11] Cothen, Grady C., and James M. Dunn. Soul Freedom: Baptist Battle Cry. (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys, 2000), 43 Parentheses mine

[12] MacBeth, H. Leon. The Baptist Heritage. (Nashville, TN: Broadman Press, 1987), 66-67

[13] Estep, William R. The Anabaptist story: an introduction to sixteenth-century Anabaptism. (Grand Rapids (Mich.): Eerdmans, 1996), 263

[14] Shurden, Walter B. The Baptist Identity: Four Fragile Freedoms. (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys Pub., 1993), 27

[15] Cothen, Grady C., and James M. Dunn. Soul Freedom: Baptist Battle Cry. (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys, 2000), 46

[16] Tuck, William Powell. Our Baptist Tradition. (Macon, GA: Smyth & Helwys Pub., 1993), 19