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

Via. NY Times article. Link Below.

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. 

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 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

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...

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

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

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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...

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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.

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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 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

Education, Ordination, and Elmer's Glue.

One of the few things I believe Facebook gets right is their reminder of “memories” to its users. By memories, I mean photos which show up on an individual time line pointing them back to an event which took place on that same date a year, or even several, years ago. A few weeks back I received the notification of one of these memories; my ordination.

Being in Divinity school, there‘s a lot of talk between students concerning ordination. Wake Forest School of Divinity is a very ecumenical institution where Unitarian Universalist, Methodist, Lutherans, Catholics, Disciples of Christ, and several different flavors of Baptist walk the halls together. All these traditions support different requirements for ordination; some demanding so much education before being considered while others require psychological evaluations.

Speaking for Baptist, the local church determines those prerequisites.

The last few weeks I’ve been spurred to think about my ordination and the process I experienced at my first and former church. The process started in the summer of 2015 and by September a date was agreed up. I was given a series of question to answers before having to sit in front of a committee made up of men and women of the congregation. I admit I was nervous, but once inside the room I distinguished that this was not an inquisition of my beliefs. Instead sitting before those people who I had grown to love and them me, I felt nothing but a spirit of affirmation being given to me. After an hour they voted to ordain me. They planned a service for me in November, another gift, and I invited a few people to speak who had been with me on my journey. I kneeled in the front of the church before all present and people came forward and laid hands upon me…praying, blessing, and pouring what they had of the divine into my being.

This memory rushed back to me as I sat with two other young pastors from different denominations who are going through a rigorous ordination process. During our conversation, one of them posed the question, “Don’t you think you should have to have a certain level of education before that happens?”

This got me to thinking.

While I do agree that theological education is needed, higher education is transactional by nature. I submit a paper and my professor is required to give me a grade. I do this so that they might do that. It’s a give and take sort of relationship that carries a certain form of expectation from both parties.

The way I view my ordination is different than how I view my theological education. My ordination was given; it was a gift. I did nothing to earn it. The church which ordained me verified the hope they saw in me. Arguably, there was nothing I could give them in return of equal value except my service driven by my love and appreciation for them.

Will D. Campbell was ordained in the same Baptist tradition as I. Years later he took his ordination certificate signed by his pastor, his father, and another family member and glued it on top of his divinity degree from Yale University. For Brother Will, the recognition by those individuals at East Fork Baptist Church in Mississippi meant more to him than his Ivey League degree.

 I enjoyed my time at Campbell University and am doing the same at Wake Divinity, but to the people of Lillington Baptist Church in Harnett County NC…I am forever grateful.

And maybe, after it’s all said and done, perhaps I’ll break out the Elmer’s as well to remind myself that it’s not my accomplishments which got me to where I am today. It’s the people who loved me and charged me to “keep telling the Jesus story.”

A Few New Things...

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A few quick announcements, none bigger than yesterdays obviously, as we move into the 2018.

I’ve made a few small changes to my CONNECT page. I’m expecting 2018 to be a wonderfully hectic year (again see yesterday’s post) and wanted to make connecting with me a bit easier. On the CONNECT page you’ll notice the ability to schedule what I would call “hang out” times with me. I’m using a service called Calendly to make this happen. So if you want to grab a bite to eat, get coffee, or maybe even sip on something a bit stronger...this is a good resource to reach out and get in touch with me. Of course email and text work too, but this syncs with my Google calendar. Yeah, pretty sweet I know.

I’ve also added my Twitter feed to the bottom of the CONNECT page. Come check out my short profound “wittery” by following me @CoxReverendred on Twitter.

And lastly, moving into 2018 I want to make it a point to host more “black sheep” voices. I’m by no means an exhaustive voice for displaced Baptist, and I am wanting to offer others the chance to add their thoughts and beliefs to the black sheep narrative. Look for guest contributors from other denominational and faith traditions early in the new year.

As you were,

tBSB

Bone of My Bone, Flesh of My Flesh.

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Being Baptist I know mentioning certain words such as inerrant or authoritative can cause church folks ears to perk up, especially surrounding the creation stories found in Genesis chapters 1 and 2. Now, I’m not here to debate the fallibility of scripture. That fight was fought in Baptist churches, seminaries, and backyards a generation ago leaving both sides to rub sore scars to this day. I believe no matter which side of the divide you come down on, ole’ Adam was on to something when he mumbled the words, “bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh.” For Adam, a shift had taken place in the way he understood his own life. I imagine Adam beginning to comprehend several notions in the moment Eve stood before him. One, how small the world could seem as he stood in her awe inspiring presence, and two, all of this (creation) isn’t just about me anymore (as if it ever were).

I felt like I was in Adam’s sandals (Adam probably went barefoot, but bare with me) this past summer when my wife Lauren came to me and uttered those two words representing love, hope, and certainly fear;

“I’m pregnant.”

Bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh.

Lots of things go through one’s mind when they hear those words. The first usually being “thank you God” followed by “oh my God, I hope we can afford this baby” and one for me personally, “God, please let me survive divinity school and a newborn!”

Our emotions went through the gamut in the following weeks. We waited awhile before we told our parents. We waited even longer before we told close friends and other family members. So much can happen in those first few months and we wanted to wait until we knew the kid’s gender before we let the news become common knowledge. On the 19th week, Lauren and I went into the doctor’s office, and while watching this human like shape move around on a computer screen that had a heartbeat attached to it, the nurse informed us we were having a little girl.

Bone of my bone and flesh of my flesh.

Since hearing those words, my eyes and ears have become open in new ways. I look at the news and read about injustice towards women in our world. Lately, I’ve seen new sexual harassment charges being brought upon male celebrities almost every other day for the past two months. Statistics, which I knew about, began to get personal; such as the gender pay gap. While I had always been for the equality of women, knowing my child could be discriminated against because of her gender was the breaking point. I would need to become an active participant in ways I hadn’t before to help ensure her future choices and freedoms.

Where to start in this endeavor? Well, that was actually pretty easy.

I’m starting with the church.

Recently I was having a discussion with someone about allowing a blessing to be administered to our baby. I still hold relatively strong convictions toward a believer’s baptism, but my wife and I love the idea of having a very ecumenical blessing when the time comes. Leaders representing all different denominations and faiths will charge and offer encouragement to us that we, and our daughter, are not alone in this journey. During the discussion, the person mentioned their own tradition and how only men could perform this task. Immediately I saw the issue and said I wouldn’t feel comfortable allowing that tradition to bless our child. The idea of exposing our daughter to a tradition where she is seen as a second class citizen has huge theological implications to me. If our daughter couldn’t perform the same function as her male counterparts in the same situation what would we be teaching her?

Since becoming involved in the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship I have met women who represent the best of us who call ourselves Baptist. These women are whom I attend school and share class space with. They offer a perspective which I do not possess and most certainly need to hear. They will be the examples I point to when our daughter looks to see what her place is in the Baptist church. Sure, I’ll tell her of Ann Hasseltine Judson and Alice Armstrong and of Molly Marshall and Karen E. Smith, but hopefully she’ll get to meet and hear for herself women like Amy Butler and Susan Sparks.

For the past 25 years, the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship has made space for such women, and yet we as a denomination still have a long way to go. Baptist William Powell Tuck wrote concerning the significance of the priesthood of all believers. “Let us identify and acknowledge the gift of every Christian. Let us then recognize and affirm those gifts to service for Christ to glorify and build up the body of Christ, the church.”

In the near future, my wife and I will stand and be charged with raising our daughter in our Christian faith. However, I would like to charge the church with a similar task.

That we as Cooperative Baptist we’ll do more for raising women into positions of leadership within our churches. 6.5% is not enough.

That we as Cooperative Baptist will work to cultivate true sanctuaries; where women’s voices can be heard without having to shout.

That we as Cooperative Baptist will not only do this inside the church walls, but outside where standing in support and solidarity with women is just as needed.

In The Challenge of Being Baptist church historian Bill Leonard writes, “If Baptist identity is to be carried beyond midcentury it must be reasserted, reinterpreted, and reformed – and none too soon.” As Baptist we are called to do this sort of work not only for our own children, but for the generations to come. Consider this your official invitation; to help co-create a world where my daughter could stand in your pulpit one day.

HAULING MY CHAIR UP THE MOUNTAIN: The Common Hope Retreat at Wild Acres Retreat Center

This blog first appeared in CBFNC "blogs from across the state." It can be read in its original format by clicking HERE.

This blog first appeared in CBFNC "blogs from across the state." It can be read in its original format by clicking HERE.

While traversing the twisting roads of Little Switzerland, NC I thought back to a conversation I had with a third year Wake Forest School of Divinity student named Brian. Brian was on his way out of the program while I was on my way in. We were discussing class schedules, he on his last semester and I on my second. I asked his opinion about some class taught by Fred Bahnson. Brian quickly told me to take anything Fred taught. I could tell by the excitement in his voice that whatever Bahnson “was putting down” Brian was certainly “picking up.” The conversation had taken place last year, and yet it was fresh on my mind following me up the mountain as I and two other classmates arrived fashionable late to the Wild Acres Retreat Center.

My purpose there was marked by both curiosity and to fulfill a class requirement. That Fall I had decided to take Brain’s advice, although a year later than expected, and had signed up for Bahnson’s course Field, Table, Communion: The Work of the People. The past several weeks had left me reeling as we read and discussed works from Wes Jackson, Norman Wirzba, and Ellen Davis. I consider myself an advocate for reconciliation through my own Christocentric understanding of faith; reconciliation with God and from person to person, but reconciliation with creation? My theology hadn’t even begun to scratch the surface. As the weekend unfolded I became painfully aware of the gaping hole this had left in me and how this trip, and course in general, would force me to look through a new lens which I had up to this point neglected.

Because of our late arrival I missed the opening session of the retreat. However, many of my classmates and others attending the conference were still up mingling on porches and conversing in rocking chairs. Bonding outside the classroom would have to wait as I headed to the only area with guest accessible WIFI on the grounds, the rustically decorated and spacious lobby. As I completed and submitted an assignment for another class, I listened to an impromptu jam session by another group who were visiting Wild Acres that week. Guitars and mandolins were strummed from around the base of the large fireplace, their sounds lifting up and out of the chimney to slowly roll down the mountain into the darkness below. I listened long after I finished my assignment. Then, like the mountain melodies, I made my way out into the darkness, and back to my room to await the sunrise and the start of the first full day of the retreat.

After searching all over for coffee at 7am, I found it just in time to grab a cup before breakfast started. Community, I would find, would be present at every meal. While breakfast was served in more of a buffet type fashion, lunch and dinner took on a more “family style” setting. Populous round tables required asking those just a few seats away to “pass the potatoes” or request another helping of the comforting meatloaf. Food was a big proponent of why many of us were there, but community and interaction was just as much a part of the desired story we all wished to take part in. Over these meals I met people from all over the nation. We shared food and we shared stories of what brought us to this space at this time. I would share many exchanges over the course of three days, but the one which resonates most with me came from Nikki. Nikki was/is from Flagstaff, AZ and is from the Indigenous people of this land. Her roots with her people and the land run deep. She doled out her story to me during one meal, explaining her Seventh Generation understanding; to take care of the earth now as to benefit those who will inhabit the world seven generations after she’s gone. In short, the concept means to think of your children’s, children’s, children’s, etc… She told me of her river guiding venture which helped young people from her tribe and others find employment and establish a connection to the larger world. Her partner in this undertaking was from another tribe and she explained the difference in understanding they had from one tribe to another in their dealings with spiritual matters, creation accounts, and eschatology. I in turn told her how different Baptists could be, and we both laughed as a communal bridge was being built between us.

For two mornings I was able to worship with a mountain top view. You realize how fragile and inadequate words can be at times when describing nature. This was one of those moments. Wild Acres boasts a small outdoor amphitheater with stone steps that soak in the sun during the day and provide warmed seats during the cool nights. Sections of grass separate the stone column sets, which prompted me during worship to slide my Vans sneakers off and plant my feet in the dew covered grass. Worship was filled with liturgy from different faith traditions in an eclectic fashion, forming a mosaic of appreciation to the Creator. We were invited to stand, move around, or just sit. One morning music welcomed us to worship, being supplied by fellow and former Wake Divinity students Sarah and Abbey. “Come Thou Fount of Every Blessing” was played on fiddle, dulcimer, and guitar. I’ve never heard it better or more authentically holy. This amphitheater would also be the scene of a beautiful bonfire on one particular night. I observed people sitting around in groups, separate but altogether, which I still saw as a form of worship in itself. God’s children talking of the Spirit while sipping spirits. Quite the powerful moment.

And then there were the people who gave insight to what they were doing in their specific context as part of the food, faith, ecology movement. Rev. Heber Brown, III who dreamed into existence the Black Church Food Security Network. Heber has been casting the truthful vision to the African –American community that “church land is stable land” and it should be used to feed its people. Steve Blackmer, Executive Director of Kairos Earth and Church of the Woods, explained to those with ears to hear that he wasn’t sure what was happening with this movement, but he felt that it was the right “time” for something big. Rev. Sam Chamelin spoke about his ministry in Maryland, the Keep & Till which started after he heard someone say of the rural church being “dead, uninteresting, and diseased.” Sam set about to dispel that statement through the lens of agrarian discipleship, pushing back against the model of church where people are pumped out as products. These talks would help me see God’s creation as the “great Table”, with everyone being invited to bring their own chair and join the discussion.

During our last afternoon session we were asked to participate in a “visioning exercise.” The prompt involved what kind of community we wanted to help cultivate as part of this kairos moment. I’ll be honest I struggle with this sort of practice. Yet, I found myself reflecting and hashing out on paper a vision which I had not brought up the mountain with me. I saw myself eating tomato sandwiches with a neighbor. Now here’s the kicker, I’m not a big fan of tomato sandwiches [EDIT: I have since become one]. Why in the world would I have a vision of eating one? As I began unpacking my thoughts I realized I wasn’t eating the sandwich because I desired the tomato, but because I loved the person who grew it; my neighbor. Once I made the connection I ran with it.

I wanted to be part of a community that grew different things in backyard gardens which were shared on back porches.

I wanted to be part of a community where I had a standby coffee cup in my neighbors house and they had one in mine.

I wanted to be part of a community where locks on doors didn’t exist.

And, as a faith leader, I wanted to be part of a community that practiced church outside on decks and in yards. Beside old wells which hadn’t been used in years. I wanted church in between Black Eyed Susans and Hostas with no steeple in sight.

That’s what I vision. That’s what I long for.

The Life of Thomas: Why Doubting Leads Us Closer to the Divine.

"Then he said to Thomas, "Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side." John 20:27

"Then he said to Thomas, "Put your finger here; see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it into my side." John 20:27

I like asking questions.

I’m not sure if this is a personality trait, but for some reason to simply accept something “as is” has never sat well with me. When someone tells me of a new restaurant they’ve tried or perhaps a new movie they just watched I tend to raise an eyebrow of suspicion. Not because I don’t believe them, but I naturally want to experience what they have said or claimed for myself. I take this same approach with my faith and ministry.

Moving forward; let me be clear that I’m not looking for absolute truths in my faith nor do I need stifling apologetics for self security. What I do look for is the ability to question. When working with students I have taken the approach of asking questions instead of giving answers. I tend to teach from a platform built around discussion rather than lecture. During our time together I try and encourage students by asking their opinions.

Why do we believe this?

What do you think about this?

Have you ever thought of hearing the story this way?

Is this a black and white issue, or are there some gray areas?

Not only do I think this helps students build critical thinking skills, but I believe asking questions and doubting is described as a major part of spiritual growth in Scripture.

Enter the Apostle Thomas.

I think for years, millenniums even, that Thomas has received a bad rap. He has been assigned the moniker of Doubting Thomas when referenced. However, I believe Thomas and the word “doubt” are due redemption. Anglican Priest and poet Malcolm Guite offers us a different narrative when thinking about Thomas,

                     Courageous master of the awkward question,

You spoke the words the others dared not say

And cut through their evasion and abstraction.

Oh doubting Thomas, father of my faith,

You put your finger on the nub of things

We cannot love some disembodied wraith,

But flesh and blood must be our king of kings.

Guite here writes of the telling encounter between Christ and Thomas found in the 20th chapter of John’s Gospel.

A week later his disciples were again in the house, and Thomas was with them. Although the doors were shut, Jesus came and stood among them and said, ‘Peace be with you.’ Then he said to Thomas, ‘Put your finger here and see my hands. Reach out your hand and put it in my side. Do not doubt but believe.’ Thomas answered him, ‘My Lord and my God!’

 (John 20:26-28 NRSV)

So much is happening here in these few sentences. Christ in the proceeding verses had appeared to his disciples after his resurrection, but Thomas was not there. When told of the encounter Thomas, instead of taking his friends words at face value, dared to make the claim that in order for him to believe he’d need to see what they saw for himself. If I were discussing this with my students, I might point out the connection this would have in addressing Gnosticism. Thomas being able to physically touch Jesus makes the claim of Christ’s humanity, not simply a spiritual manifestation, to us now as well as to those in the early Church. I might also bring up the notion that Christ doesn’t cast Thomas away. He doesn’t say, “Well, because you didn’t believe your buddies you’re outta here!” Instead he meets Thomas in his doubt and answers his question, “Touch the wounds and see the truth for yourself!” For those like me who are natural questioners, I see this passage offering reassurance. For doubt was needed before belief. 

Dealing with students who are in the process of learning to take on a faith tradition being passed onto them is the important aspect of making it in some way their own.  How do they do that? By being offered a space in which they are able to doubt and question. For those of us who work with students, either as leaders or volunteers, the example of Jesus is what we should aim for here. Instead of telling students they need to believe before they can ask questions, we should invite them to ask questions to help them believe.

When we preach, share, or teach using incontestable statements we cultivate an understanding of faith which is rigid at best. However when we teach using the redeemable qualities of doubt we demonstrate to students a faith that should not remain still and stagnant, but instead should be viewed as something that is growing and forever changing for the better. 

 

Why I Remain Silent.

I’ve been told by a few different people I possess what some might refer to as the “gift of gab.” Most would define this attribute as being able to speak on subjects with eloquence and fluency. While I believe I’m able to hold a conversation with almost anyone on a range of ideas, I just chalked it up as being able to “talk to folks” or “carrying on” with people. Yet, when I made my way into one of my first classes at Campbell University in 2012 I discovered my ability to “gab” about theology.

Theo comes from the Greek root word meaning “god”, logy or logos from the Greek as well meaning “word.” The definition of theology looks something like this,

Faith seeking understanding

The attempt in seekingknowledge of God.

To struggle with God. (Perhaps my favorite)

Theology, and the language surrounding God, became a subject I could converse on for hours. I tell folks there are two things I never get tired of talking about; theology and Tarheel basketball. While at Campbell I took every course offered on the subject. Ancient /medieval, modern, and contemporary. If theology was in the title I signed up for the class. During my last year I was surprisingly recognized for my contribution/work in the classroom (I use the word contribution lightly) and received an award in the form of a misspelled plaque (I wouldn’t let the school fix it; it hangs in my church office as reminder on how not to spell “studies” as STUDTIES).

I left Campbell and headed to Wake Forest School of Divinity where I prepared to add my budding voice to all theological discussions. Because of core classes and scheduling, I was unable to take a theology course my first year. Instead I found a love for church history. I spent the year studying post-Reformation Christianity as well as Baptist history (where I learned about some Baptist theologians who have enriched my life ever since). However this current Fall semester I was excited to take not only one, but two theology courses. As the start of the school year crept closer, I felt I was getting back on the subject where I excelled. I imagined picking up where I left off as the person who always had something, I felt, insightful to add to the discussion.

A month into the semester and I'm surprised as anyone at how much I don’t talk in either class.

Which brings me to the concept of silence.

Remaining silent on any issue, whether it be a stance on gun control in the United States, immigration or BLM, is always cast in a negative light. This is something which isn’t new. Dr. Martin Luther King Jr. in his Letter From Birmingham Jail condemned the act of silence from white moderate clergy on the issue of segregation and the damage which it caused. King would mention the absurdity of passivity,

“I received a letter this morning from a white brother in Texas which said, ‘All Christians know that the colored people will receive equal rights eventually, but is it possible that you are in too great of a religious hurry? It has taken Christianity almost 2000 years to accomplish what it has. The teachings of Christ take time to come to earth.’”

King wrote of his disappointment of this statement from his jail cell. He believed the issue of civil rights for African-Americans was not an issue for white clergy to remain silent on. However, as I read this nodding my head in agreement I wondered if there ever was a time to suppress one’s voice?

Reflecting back to my theology classes this semester; I believe there is.

I’ve discovered when I’m silent I have the ability to actual hear what others are saying.

I’ve discovered when I’m silent others have the chance to speak.

I’ve discovered when I’m silent I can appreciate another’s point of view.

I’ve discovered when I’m silent I learn stuff which I didn’t know before.

I’ve discovered when I’m silent not all opinions are like mine.

I’ve discovered when I’m silent that the narrative of theology doesn’t belong exclusively to me.

I’ve discovered when I’m silent while others speak, they might bestow upon me the same courtesy when the roles are reversed.

I dare say I, and maybe even “we” as a people, would do well to practice silence outside the classroom from time to time.

I’m not saying to remain silent on issues that matter, i.e. King and his plea to moderate white clergy. This was something that needed to be done. No, this is a different type of plea for a different context. A plea asking for a cooling of tongues in hopes an authentic conversation can take place. I desire to tell you my story, but I also long to hear yours. The stories and thoughts being shared in my theology classes are my stories in the sense of “all are part of God’s narrative” kind of way, but I’m learning I don’t always have to be the one telling them. Plus, how can I tell a women’s perspective, or a black male perspective, or someone from the LGBTQ community’s perspective, or someone who suffers from either a physical or mental disabilities perspective?

 I simply don’t possess that voice, and that’s why I must remain silent.

Response to Nashville Statement

nashville statement.png

Let’s just keep this short and sweet.

In 1934, Confessing Church mover and shaker Karl Barth respond to fellow theologian Emil Brunner’s essay on Natural Theology. The response was entitled; Nein! Anwort an Emil Brunner.

Breakdown on this exchange: Brunner makes statement and Barth says “Uh, NO!”

This week the Nashville Statement was issued by The Council on Biblical Manhood and Womanhood.

My response…

Nein! Anwort an Nashville Aussage.
 
As You Were,
the Black Sheep Baptist

One Vision: A Church Manifesto

Why stop at 95? Lets make it 100.

Why stop at 95? Lets make it 100.

I was recently talking with a spouse of a fellow minister. We were discussing different ministries within our respective churches and talking about what the future of those ministries might be in the follow years. This conversation led to the overall future of the Church. During our discussion she made the comment, “You know I believe Michael (not husband’s real name…those have been changed to protect the innocent) will be part of the last generation of people to actually retire from what we know as full time ministry. I mean for those going to into it (congregational ministry) now…I just don’t think the same financial support will be there.” She stopped there and immediately said, “I don’t say that to discourage you, but it’s just gonna be different for you.”

She’s right.

Having been in congregational ministry now for the past several years, I am all too aware of the declining numbers in the big main line denominations. While churches are still being planted, most are closing their doors. The faithful Baby Boomers are being replaced at a rapid rate by the “Nones” (those that hold no religious affiliation).

So in the words of the prophet MLK, “Where do we go from here?”

The following is my addition to Luther’s 95 Thesis. I figure it’s been 500 years and the institutional church could use a few more…

1)    The new generation of preachers, theologians, leaders, Christ followers are going to have to let what we know of church die. The saying that “we don’t go to church because we are the church” should be more than just an empty statement. It should be the new mantra. Maybe the problem the modern church has is its people have been going to it for too long. Asking them to be it is going take a different approach.

2)    Co-Pastor Churches. I was dreaming with some fellow “30 something” year old pastors not long ago about church leadership positions. All present were in some form of associate role, and while we did have one person say they had a desire to be a head pastor, the group was in agreement and spoke with excitement on the idea of co-pastorships. The idea of sharing equal responsibility with one or more church leader. And yes, before you think “well, isn’t that what the church does now?” Yes and no. While pastoral duties are broken up in modern churches, the intentionality behind co-pastorships is not a practiced norm. There are some churches where this is taking place, but these are outliers and are small in number. Sharing equal responsibility allows pastors the ability to be involved and support different causes/movements. However, if the future of the church is to embrace co-pastorships than future clergy will need to…

3)    Embracing Bi-Vocationalism. Ministry is a burnout waiting to happen. Just speaking from my own perspective, the average career of those in youth ministry is around 18 months. That’s not even two years.  Most pastors don’t know what a 40 hour work week looks like. The old joke of the pastor only working on Sunday is still around, but the reality of 60+ hour work weeks and limited boundaries are what pastors and their families often experience. With or without co-pastorship positions, the ability for small churches to afford a full time staff member is dwindling. Being able to work in something besides congregational ministry will soon be a necessity for many future church leaders. I myself have worked two sometimes three jobs in order to do ministry since I began working in the church. For those called to congregational ministry I believe the drive is there to make this work, but this is a two way street.

4)    Denominations and/or Independent Churches will have to look for different ways to support. Whether Catholic, Presbyterian, Methodist, Baptist, United Church of Christ, Universalist Unitarian…churches want degrees and those degrees are not cheap. In 2014-2015 the average cost of seminary training from an ATS (Association of Theological Schools) was around $14,700 per year (the cost as you might expect has gone up). That’s roughly $45,000 for a three year program. The average pay for a pastor in 2012 was $28,000 (of course denominational affiliation, experience, and location play a factor). If I personally did not receive scholarships and financial aid, my school debt would be closer to $60,000 at the end of three years. Being expected to obtain a high level of education while being promised a salary close to the Federal Poverty Level is daunting. While I would love to see seminary charging less in tuition, my attention and call will be for denominations and churches to look for alternative incentives to employ clergy. Perhaps a part time position is the only option for a church, so why not produce financial support in other ways, i.e. insurance and retirement options instead of bottom dollar salaries? Again using myself as an example, I would happily look into pastoring a church where I was required to be there on average 25 hours a week and receive pay that reflected that sort of time commitment while receiving medical insurance for me and my family. Denominational resources could be used and partnered with resources of local churches to pull this off. Ah, but you ask…”if you’re only going to be there 25hrs a week and we are paying for your insurance, what are you going to be doing when you’re not working for the church?”

5)    Community Pastor: I mentioned bi-vocationalism earlier and being a community pastor ties in with that concept. Even when I’m “off” I’m never truly off. I find myself at least once a day sharing with someone what I do and where I serve. Often I do this while working at another job. People have known me as the “pastor who works at the t-shirt company attending all the local festivals” or “the pastor who works at the local bottle shop.” I’m out and about working, engaging people in my community, and intentionally sharing with them my faith and passions (sometimes that happens in the first conversations, sometimes it happens in the 20th one).

For years the institutional church has asked younger clergy to trust it, now we are asking the same. Pour into us the way we have poured into you.

This is but one person’s observation and opinion. In order to see action happen future clergy, churches, and dominations are going to have to have a “come to Jesus meeting” with one another. As a pastor, these are my thoughts…

What are yours?

Concerning Charlottesville: Why Reconciliation Is Needed.

I’m what you call a “processor.”

While although I can deliver wit and off the cuff comments, I often do better when I have time to sit in thought about something

I’ve been processing the events in Charlottesville, VA for the past week.

Having an outlet such as a blog forces me to ask myself this question every time I begin rapping my fingers across the keyboard: “What am I adding to this topic /conversation?”

In the context of Charlottesville, what can I say that hasn’t already been said?

Many others have said what I feel. Zack Hunt, John Pavlovitz, Diana Butler Bass, the dean and faculty at Wake Forest University School of Divinity, and even late night talk show host and comedian Jimmy Fallon.

And while I may not agree with everything those mentioned above have said, I agree with their assessment. The Alt-Right, Neo-Nazi’s, KKK members, and all other white supremacy groups that showed up in Charlottesville this past weekend are disgusting and wrong. They are manifestations of hate that I, as a faith leader within a community, cannot not sit quietly and not address. If there is a divisible line, this is worth being divisible over.

As for Antifa and other counter protesters in Charlottesville that weekend, I believe they raised their voices against hate in a moment in which it was desperately needed. I know many might disagree in this statement. I have seen comments all over social media saying counter-protesters were just as much a problem as the white supremacist groups. To that I would say; we can debate the tactics used by counter-protesters if you’d like, but we cannot debate whether or not action should have been taken in confronting a group of fascist, bigoted, racists.

Late last night while my wife slept soundly in the next room, I watched the VICE News piece on Charlottesville. What I saw went far beyond the racism I have heard and experienced growing up in the South. That’s not to say it wasn’t always there, but this was a more radical dormant rendition that I had never been exposed to personally. Let me be clear, the individuals in this video are not misunderstood. They are not themselves part of an oppressive system which targets poor whites into thinking that the only thing they have left to hang their prideful hats on is to know they are better than then the black folk who live on the other side of town. No, what I watched wasn’t that. The spokesmen and leaders of this white supremacy movement were wicked and without remorse as seen in their language surrounding any other ethnic group besides their own. They are not looking to dialogue with those who oppose them. They are not looking to come across table and grieve differences.

They are looking to burn the table and all those sitting around it.

 They are looking to eradicate the other side because the other side is less than them.

This is why I can’t remain silent. Yet, what is it that I will say? To whom will I say it?

For this purpose I want to speak to my people directly; white folk who claim to follow Jesus.

Trying to speak for any other group is pretentious at best and arrogant at worst.

I’ve read article after article and watched video after video, and as white male I don’t believe I have the right to tell others how to feel. That’s what got us in this mess in the first place.

I can’t imagine what African-American men and women in the south feel when walking past Confederate statues honoring soldiers and generals who fought to keep the business of slavery alive.

I can’t imagine what African-American men and women feel when the Black Lives Matter movement is referred to by elected officials as a terrorist group.

I can’t imagine what those claiming Jewish heritage think when they see Nazi flags flying beside our nation’s stars and stripes.

I can’t imagine what any minority group in the United States feels when they see the privilege being doled out time and time again to people who don’t look like them.

And there are more examples. While perhaps not on the forefront of this incident particularly, they are being shouldered by other courageous groups daily.

But I’m not talking to or for them; I’m talking to white people right now.

I was glad to see “us” show up to confront the horrendous individuals who attempted to spread a message of superiority. “We” added our collective voice to the voices of others in condemning such asinine claims. I saw “us” locked arm in arm with other groups marching in solidarity.

I also saw good intended people be pushed into committing acts of violence themselves.

*Disclaimer: Let me be clear, I am not comparing the actions and motives of the counter protesters to the white supremacy crowd. One is clearly a reaction to the other.

What I want to say to my white brother and sisters is…we got to do better than that.

When I think of protesting it’s hard for me not to think of MLK. Dr. King and other Civil Rights leaders embodied a spirit of unwavering perseverance in the face of hatred. I’ve read the accounts dealing with the preparation Dr. King and others went through in order to ready themselves for marches and sit-ins. Dr. King was a believer in non-violence, and it showed in his actions. His belief and faith held his head up while keeping his fist down. From my understanding, Dr. King recognized there would be violence when he spoke out and marched but it would not be committed by him and his people.  This kind of display is the stuff Jesus was speaking of when he referenced the Kingdom of God. Dr. King’s ability to not give the other side what they in turn gave him is what made King not only influential for decades to come, but it made him right. You see there was a determination about what he did that surpassed the stubborn mindset of those fighting to keep segregation alive. Dr. King would say in his work Stride Toward Freedom, “It is still one of the tragedies of human history that the ‘children of darkness’ are frequently more determined and zealous than the ‘children of light’.”

So…

Dear white people,

If we are to show up and protest against hate in all its forms, we must have the desire to be more determined and zealous in our approach than those on the other side of the protesting line. What does that look like? We don’t show up to out fight, out scream, or out hate. We show up to demonstrate love and compassion in a way that when these opposing individuals go back to their homes they are not beaten physically but instead in spirit. We will need to stand firm in showing that peace and love are stronger and resonate more in the human condition than hate and divisiveness. What will be the outcome? I honestly don’t know. There will be pain and suffering. There will be losses and defeats. There will be weeping and gnashing of the teeth.

And I tell you with glorious certainty it will be worth it.

For something could happen not only to those we oppose, but to ourselves in the process. A fellow radical Baptist preacher, Will D. Campbell, understood the importance of dealing with those who sought division in many different ways. Campbell was a Civil Right leader who both marched with MLK and would later be moved by his faith to act compassionately towards those he had marched against; the racists. Lawrence Wright in a Rolling Stone article had this to share about his time with Campbell.

“In 1969, on the night before Bob Jones, the Grand Dragon of the North Carolina KKK was shipped off to federal prison in Danbury, Connecticut, for contempt of Congress, Campbell was there in the Dragon's Den to celebrate communion with a bottle of bourbon. Later, Campbell talked with James Earl Ray, the man who had murdered Campbell's friend Martin Luther King. When people asked if he really expected to save the souls of such men, Campbell allowed that that would be presumptuous: "They might, however, save mine."

For those of us who profess faith, this is where the radical message of the Gospels gets played out in the here and now. We need to act out this message like those who have come before us.

I wish I could personally tell you that I’m there. That I am spiritual mature and disciplined enough to stay the course and remain loving in my protest against racism. However, I know I still have work to do in that area.

That’s why I know Campbell was on to something. We have to be in constant contemplation about how we show up and demonstrate. We must not ignore what is going on. Instead we must keep confronting not only those who stand against us but confront ourselves and the preconceived notions that we are already "right." Instead of succumbing to hate let’s allow the love we claim to posses have the profound impact we believe it can.

 

Saints in Elastic Boots

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I often hear myself say at least once a day, “I can’t believe this is happening to me.” This usual occurs during those crucial life altering moments at the drive through at Starbucks. The one I usual stop at on my way to church has a round-about style drive through, which means when I’m pulling in I can’t see what’s on the other side of the building. Most mornings I arrive and see no line and instantly feel excited knowing my transaction with the drive through barista is going to be short and sweet, but sometimes there’s a line and I have to wait (usual I just park and go in if this happens). And then there are the times, which seem so overly frequent to me, where I see just one car in the line and I think to myself, “This shouldn’t take long.”

And guess what? It always takes waaaaaay longer than I feel it should.

The Mercedes SUV in front of me this morning was occupied by a single driver, but they purchased a whole tray full of drinks. Three of which were frappuccino! Who needs a frappuccino that early in the morning? Thus I am forced to sit and wait for my grande ice coffee and silently grovel while thinking to myself, “I can’t believe this happening to me. Why do I always get behind these types of people?”

Now there is a plethora full of things wrong with me in this scenario that I could pick apart, but I feel the major root cause has to do with me feeling as if what I do should take precedent over the needs/wants of others. Like somehow I’m more important than the driver with the three frappuccino, which of course is an absolute absurdity. When I pause and actually think about how upset I am I realize what I’m experiencing is not in any way a form of suffering, but a simple (and I’m stretching it here) inconvenience. #firstworldproblems

So as some of you know, I just returned from camp with my students last week and during that time away from home I felt inconvenienced almost daily. I wasn’t with my wife, I had to sleep on a bunk bed, I had to share a bathroom with six other guys, etc…Being honest with myself these are all pretty petty things, but in the moment, these seemed a lot bigger. Particularly one incident while we were there…

Our group shared the top floor of a cabin with another group from a different church. We had a shared doorway that connected the two rooms which we came to find out didn’t have a lock. On our first night there a leader from the other group walked through the door and explained to me that there wasn’t quite enough space in their section and that he’d like to sleep in one of our extra beds. You can imagine my initial response.

Uh, no.

Now I’m all for communal living, but there are some issue that arise when dealing with students. First and foremost is their safety and being respectful of their parents who’ve trusted me with their child’s wellbeing for a whole week. Having someone not part of our group and having not gone through a background check from our church just screamed “problem” to me. The students and I offered to give him some of the extra mattresses we had, but couldn’t allow him to stay with us. He seemed somewhat offended and not satisfied with that answer, but relented none the less. I informed camp staff just to keep them in the loop as to what was going on and considered the matter closed.

It was not.

For the next two days this leader entered our room unannounced.  He used a small hallway on our side of the cabin to store extra backpacks/luggage without asking which   felt like an infringement on my and the students space. Justifiably so, tension begin to rise on our end when our complaints to staff seemed to fall on deaf ears. I remember one of my last conversations with a staff member where it seemed they felt just as powerless as I did in the situation. I informed them I had tried to be as respectful as I knew how, but this issue was coming to a head quickly. It was then I was pulled aside by a senior staff member and given some information about the leader who had been entering our room. Reflecting back now, I’m not sure if that personal type of information should have been shared with me. However, it did give me an insight as to why this individual was not picking up on social cues that most would. Some life altering tragic events had recently taken place in this leaders’ life. As I walked back to our cabin my mind began its typical cycle. “I can’t believe this is happening to me. Of all the people I could have been roomed beside I get the one person who doesn’t understand basic common courtesy!”

And then something else happened. Each step I took I found myself thinking about the stories I had been told concerning this socially awkward, yet seemingly harmless, church youth leader. This individual had been through a lot in the past few months. Life had been hard for this person in ways I can’t even begin to comprehend. Noticing this helped bring about the revelation that I lacked the ability to even fully empathize with this individual. However, what I did discover was that this person had much more of a right to say “I can’t believe this happened to me” than I did.

Taking all this in, I decided to sit and talk with the group of students who had been directly affected by this situation. We talked and it was one of the students who said, “You know, honestly we’ve kinda blown this out of proportion. This really isn’t that big of a deal, more of an inconvenience than anything else.” Words of wisdom for us all. As we sat there my mind raced back to a C.S. Lewis quote. In his work God in the Dock, Lewis tells a story which explained his need and connection to the local church. He begins the story by saying that he initially hated going. He loathed getting up early on Sunday mornings. Even after he became a regular attendee, he held a disdain toward church hymns describing them as “fifth rate poems set to sixth rate music”, but felt his attendance was necessary because he couldn’t receive the Sacrament of Communion alone. However over time he began to rethink his cynical views.  

“But as I went on I saw the great merit of it. I came up against people of quite different outlooks and different education, and then gradually my conceit just began peeling off. I realized that the hymns (which were just sixth rate music) were, nevertheless, being sung with devotion and benefit by an old saint in elastic-side boots in the opposite pew, and then you realize that you aren’t fit to clean those boots. It gets you out of your solitary conceit.”

I found this and read it to my students that night. We unpacked the significance it brought up in each of us, with the conversation continuing well into the night. Around midnight we heard a slight knock on our door. The leader poked his head through the door and asked if he could use our bathroom. We told him of course. One of my students whispered to me, “Can we invite him to sit and talk with us?” I gladly told the students I was fine with the idea, but it was up to them. The leader came out of the bathroom to a group of students wanting to introduce themselves to him and asking if he’d like to join us. The leader declined, but said he might take us up on the offer later. We continued to talk into the night, discussing the situation along with loads of other things that were on our hearts. Around 1:30am we finally settled down and I lay in my bunk complete floored by the events and conversation of the night. It will be something I will never forget and will cherish being part of. As I begin to doze off an all too familiar thought went through my head. Yet this time it was not in self centered frustration, instead it was a thankful prayer.

“I can’t believe this is happening to me…”

 

Baptist: Are We An Extinct People?

 

There's a grief that can't be spoken,
There's a pain goes on and on.
Empty chairs at empty tables,
Now my friends are dead and gone.

Here they talked of revolution,
Here it was they lit the flame,
Here they sang about tomorrow and tomorrow never came.

From the table in the corner,
They could see a world reborn,
And they rose with voices ringing,
And I can hear them now
The very words that they have sung
Became their last communion
On this lonely barricade, at dawn.

Marius, Les Misérables

 

One of the necessary drawbacks to working in congregational ministry is being in the same place every Sunday. PLEASE DON’T READ THAT WRONG. I love my church in every possible way, but it does prevent me from visiting other churches. I use to do this more frequently several years ago. I intentionally visited other churches to build relationships with fellow pastors and to check out different Student Ministry programs to see what they were doing well (in the context of their people and the ministry God had set before them, of course).

Not being able to venture away from my church as much has left me to be a connoisseur, so to speak, of church websites. When I meet someone at a conference or hear about something cool a particular church is doing I do a quick Google search to check them out. Church websites are often similar in design with A LOT of churches having very outdated or ambiguous information (yeah I was talking to youour last updated pictures are from 3 Easter egg hunts ago” church). Some churches do a terrific job presenting crucial information on their website and other social media platforms. Examples include, but are not limited to; location, service times, the style of worship, if childcare is available, special events...This is basic info which gives those who are thinking about visiting a church a heads up on what to expect before they even walk through the doors.

However, church websites often include other material as well. Vision statements, beliefs, audio/video sermons, and staff profiles. It is here where often intentional or unintentional proclamations are made.

A church’s view of Scripture. Is it inerrant, inspired, or authoritative?

Does the church believe in women in ministry (a quick view of the staff directory might give you a clue)?

Diversity, be it generationally, ethically, economically?

Is the church progressive or conservative (in a biblical sense, NOT in a political one)?

Is the church inclusive or exclusive? LGBT affirming or not?

Some of what I mentioned can be discovered peripherally. Just like viewing staff photos might allude to whether or not they believe in female ministers, other tells might include educational schools of thought. Seminaries and divinity schools differ and produce pastors/theologians who do the same. In a Baptist context, a pastor who graduates from Southeastern Seminary has a different approach to ministry as say someone who graduates from Wake Forest School of Divinity. One might be able to see if a church is diverse by photos taken of actual parishioners (I’m looking at you “stock photo” church, cut that mess out).

Most often though churches produce a “Statement of Beliefs” or “What We Believe” page somewhere on their website. The point of this section is to inform visitors (and remind current members) just what exactly the church holds on to as far as doctrinal beliefs. Stances on the role of God, Jesus, and the Holy Spirit are usual given. Other understandings on salvation, the role of the Church (people of God), and Christian education/discipleship are often presented as well.

Recently I read something that made me ask the question, “What if a church put something else on their belief page?” Something not as typical as what I just described.

This summer I’ve had the luxury of reading for pleasure again. I described in another blog about my discovery of the Baptist preacher Will D. Campbell and it was last summer, before I began at Wake Div(inty), that I ordered and began reading Campbell. I began with his autobiographical works, but Campbell also produced fictional writings which I ordered as well. They sat on my bookshelves until I could find the time to enjoy them properly (graduate studies have a way of consuming one’s reading choices). With the academic year ending in May, I was able to pick Campbell back up and began reading The Glad River. Below is a synopsis via Amazon.com,

No one in Claughton County ever understood why Doops Momber refused to be baptized: his people were all good Baptists. And no one in Cummings, Mississippi, knew that Kingston Smylie’s daddy was really his granddaddy and that Kingston wasn’t really white. And at Camp Polk, no one knew anything at all about Fordache Arceneau because he spoke only Cajun. They met in basic training. Green kids who’d always felt themselves to be outsiders, they formed a community of three. They called it the neighborhood. After seeing action together at Guadalcanal, the three friends went back to the lives they’d each known, but they went on meeting regularly, keeping up the neighborhood. Their lives were untroubled, until the day Fordache found himself accused of murder, on trial for his life. And in a small Southern courtroom in the autumn of 1952, the neighborhood — bound by love and based on understanding — faced its ultimate test. The Glad River is a deeply affecting novel. Grounded in a particular place and time, its themes are, nonetheless, universal. A novel that probes the limits of religion and the state, it is also the work of a master storyteller and civil rights activist whose works are considered a treasure of modern Southern literature.

Campbell touches on a lot of issues in this story. The importance of community and friendship are described in detail along with the horrors of war that are somehow relationally binding to those who serve beside one another. Having served in the army himself during WWII Campbell accomplishes this by drawing from personal experience. He also addresses the complex issues surrounding individual and social identity. The story is captivating with wonderful character development. Perhaps for this reason, when I reached the last several chapters of the book, I began to ask myself questions much aligned to those asked by the main characters (good stories, be they fictional or not, should move one to question themselves in one way or another). Yet, it was the thoughts of the character Doops Momber where most of my questions began to stem from. As the synopsis described, Doops is a Baptist. A Mississippian Baptist to be exact. His family is Baptist (or his as Campbell and other good southerners would say “his people” are Baptist) along with everyone in his hometown. Without giving too much of the story away, 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 his close friend Fordache where Doops gives 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 Mirrors 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.”

At the end of the questioning, Doops gives his reason for not being baptized.

“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.”

I read those words and highlighted them. I put the book down and began to process what feelings they brought up in me. I knew the believers Doops described were obviously based off a real sect of Christians that existed after the Reformation. These believers were offshoots of the Reformed and Lutheran Protestants. They were referred to as Anabaptist or Re-baptizers, a name given to them by their critics (believers of this sect would say they never were re-baptized since their infant baptism were issued by the State resulting in the first being illegitimate). These men and women took the teachings of Martin Luther and Ulrich Zwingli and “radicalized” them. Names such as Conrad Gerbels, Jacob Hutter, and Menno Simons are counted among the founders of the Hutterrites, Mennonites, Amish, and the Swiss Brethren. While significance and contribution is often debated, the teachings of these early leaders played a role in the development of the people who now identify as Baptist. After all, the man most often given credit for founding the modern Baptist faith, John Smyth, led a group to Holland (where the Anabaptist movement was strong) and by the end of his life asked to be accepted into a Mennonite community (just like a good Baptist to question their salvation, haha). No doubt an influential connection, whether strong or weak, was established.

As a Baptist, I believe these people are the for-bearers of my faith and from what I can devise from Campbell and his fictional character Doops, both of them thought the same. Yet, somewhere Doops had seen this connection severed in such a way that it would not allow him to be baptized by the folks in his community who claimed to be Baptist in good conscious because they did not resemble the individuals who had started the faith. Which made me wonder, what would happen if a church website included Statements of Beliefs in close line with early Baptists? Imagine seeing this,

We here at First Baptist Church Small Town, USA believe…

1)    Infants are not to be baptized.

2)    We do not believe in taking human life.

3)    We will not go to war for this country or any country.

4)    We do not believe or support the death penalty.

5)    We will not swear or serve on juries.

6)    We believe in complete separation of Church and State.

7)    We believe in a community of goods.

A church with this on their website might not get a lot of takers, but then again, maybe they would. The Baptist faith has gone through many changes attributed to culture and modern interpretations/revelation of scripture. I often hear older generations make the statement, “If only we could do it like we did it back then” or echo the old Gospel hymn “Give me that old time religion, it’s good enough for me.” I dare say the “old time religion” they are referring to resembles this type of early Baptist faith. This sort of adherence of faith is still seen in some groups already mentioned (Amish, Mennonites, etc…), and even in some modern Baptist denominations (mostly concerning the separation of Church and State). Nonetheless, little of this understanding of faith is seen in Baptist circles today.

Doops had something to say on this as well. When he was first writing his story in the army hospital he formed a relationship with a nurse, Miss Williams, from Rhode Island (I see what you did there Campbell). When asked about the story he was writing, Doops and Miss Williams had the following exchange;

“This story is about some people who lived a long time ago and aren’t around anymore,” he wrote. “An extinct species, I think.” He handed her the tablet. She read it sighed and handed it back. “I just want to write a story about them. And that’s all I want.” She read his words but did not hand the tablet back to him this time.

“Extinct people,” the nurse said, looking confused. “What kind of extinct people?” Doops reached for the tablet, but she held it behind her back. “What kind of extinct people?” she asked again.

“Baptist people,” Doops said feebly after a long pause.

Baptists. An extinct people. I believe ole Campbell and Doops were on to something there.

Baptist represents the largest Protestant denomination in the United States (and of them the SBC claims the most members). We have come a long way in some areas and traveled less in others. For a people who do not claim creeds, we have become creedal in our understanding of traditions. We point to our heritage as validation of our beliefs while leaving behind some of the tenets that made our interpretation of faith uniquely profound. For that is the kind of faith that causes a people to rebel against the injustices of a corrupt world in hopes of living a life in obedience to God.

Oh…spoiler alert, Doops does get dipped (baptized) by the end of the story. He finds someone who reminds him of the people he respected and admired for the ability to live out their faith. Turns out Baptists weren’t extinct after all, they just weren’t in the churches anymore…

Like Campbell and Doops, I mean to find me a few real Baptist is this world. I don’t believe they're extinct.

Hopefully, just maybe, I might mess around and become one in the process.

Fighting On Social Media

Came across an older post I had written in the early part of 2016 when I when I was still at Campbell University. I made no changes to the article, and yet as I read it, I could have written it yesterday...

As I type this, I am sitting in our comfortable red leather chair in our living room (that our cats have become too possessive over I might add) and enjoying my second cup of coffee this morning.

And yes, as a Pastor…I know how cliche what I just typed sounded.

However it is for these small things that I find myself thankful this morning. You see since Friday afternoon Lauren and I had been without power until yesterday evening. The blizzard storm, Jonas, (and when did winter storms start getting names?) covered the RDU area with a mixture of wintery precipitation.

And when I say “mixture” I really mean “ice”.

The 48 hours prior to yesterday’s return of modern convenience was a true eye opener. This of course is not the first time I’ve ever lost power in a storm, but it has been awhile since it occurred. Although many offers from friends and families were extended for a place for us to stay, we decided to hunker down and break out the candles and extra blankets. Not to mention having Fred (a large Golden Retriever) and two cats to share our bed; we were beyond toasty.

So no power means no lights. No hot water (we ran out on the second day). No stove to cook. No way to charge our phones (unless we charged them in the cars…which we did). No Hulu. No Netflix. No internet.

Those last three things I mentioned; it was like living in the 1990’s all over again.

However even with the lack of today’s technology being limited to me, I came to appreciate the circumstance/pleasure that had been obstructed by a self imposed desire of contemporary accessibility (i.e. Hulu, Netflix, Social Media).

Reading.

Now for those that know me, this may sound a bit farfetched as you know I am a constant reader. Nonetheless, in recent times I have found that I have neglected reading as a form of pleasure. I had begun to recognize it more as a task. Reading for school is the obvious example, and as much as I enjoy studying/learning…I must admit trying to consume enough knowledge/ideas can be taxing at times. But not all of my reading is scholarly. What I discovered in the deafening silence offered by the power outage was that the majority of my reading is now being occupied by the tabloid of my time…social media, and to be more specific: Facebook.

A small disclaimer: I get the benefits of social media. It can be used in lots of positive ways. It brings people together. Everybody has a voice. Etc, etc, etc…

So the question now to be answered is; what is it that personally draws me to social media/Facebook? Why is it that as I lie in bed at night, I scroll through Facebook?

If I’m honest with myself, and for this reflection I really want to be, it’s not for the above mentioned benefits. I’m not doing it to stay connected to high school friends. I’m not using it to check up on current colleagues and peers to share in their pictures of new babies (and trust me there are A LOT of them). I’m not intentionally using it to learn in a traditional sense, although I have learned something in this instance…so maybe that’s a plus. What I’ve come to understand is that I go to Facebook to see one thing.

People argue.

People fight.

People disagree.

People end friendships.

People make hurtful statements.

People make harsh claims.

People attack each other.

I could keep going, but I think you get the point.

Sad thing is we could substitute “I” for “People” if we are going for authenticity here.

Yes, everyone has a voice. That voice and its opinion are protected under the First Amendment of these United States. All good and understood.

Yet, do I always need to express my opinion? Is my opinion on certain topics even worth expressing? And when I do feel the need to express, do I need to do in such a way that degrades another’s point of view? When I state my opinion do I state it as fact? Am I looking to dialogue? Do I state it under the presumption that I’m right and you’re wrong?

Western civilization today presents us with a very polarizing worldview. We are given this side, or that side. Yes or no. Black or white. We are taught to oppose “this” and support “that”.  Little room is left for discussion or gray areas.

This thinking brought me back to a moment I had in the classroom at Campbell University. As part of a class discussion, we were breaking the class down into subgroups to see what are resources were. We were doing this in order to gain perspective on what we could offer as support to a certain community that we wished to engage. This conversation led to what type of questions should we ask of the community we wanted to enter and be involved with. What should we take into consideration? We used our own small 14 persons class as a case study. What was our income level? What different ethnic groups did we represent? What denomination or faith groups existed? Age groups? Basic yet important questions. To know the needs of a people you must first know the people. As I stared at the board, I noticed one obvious distinction we had somehow missed…

“What about political views” I asked? “Not just Democrat or Republican, but are they/we conservative or liberal”?

Silence.

Nothing.

Nada.

Our professor acknowledged that it was an important factor to consider and wrote it on the board. However NO ONE in the class wanted to share what their views were. No one wanted to express their opinion in lieu of being exposed to questioning for thinking a certain way.

Of course this brings up so many questions. That fact that we feel we can express our income, faith, and ethnicity, etc…to a certain level while not feeling threatened says wonders. Yet why can’t we speak about our political stances without the fear that we’ll be ostracized? If my class was an indication of the larger feelings that those of us living currently in the United States have is that we are more attached to our personal political stance than we are to any other identifier.

As someone who claims to follow Jesus…this is a problem.

In the past several months, and what is to be expected in the months ahead, the division of one another over issues stemming from political to economic beliefs will intensify (it’s a election year after all). Instead of working together, offering different perspectives by listening to one another, appreciating our differences and the values they hold, and demonstrating diplomacy we are urged to segregate ourselves into opposing camps. The picture we are given instead is that we must take a stand to ensure that as a people we won’t be taken advantage of, that we won’t allow a group of people to terrorize us, and that we must protect our freedom and way of life by any means necessary…

I flip through Facebook and see the dividing walls being lifted. Arguments between strangers and even family members erupt over these issues. Hurtful comments sent across the internet that can never be wiped clean (even as much as we like to believe they can be deleted later). These conversations become snapshots in time that preserves our lack of understanding and willingness to hear each other out. When we attack someone, what we are really saying is that “we are superior to you” and “your opinion doesn’t matter”.

Sadly I see many of those waving the Christian banner doing exactly this…

Instead of voicing our preferences, opinions, and fears…what if we could become the “light of the world” that Christ spoke about in Matthew’s Gospel (Ch.5:14)?

Instead of mocking, shaming, and vilifying one another we rid ourselves “of all malice, and all guile, insincerity, envy, and slander” (1st Peter 2:1)?

Instead of celebrating when those who disagree with you fail, demonstrate a way that does “not rejoice when your enemy falls” or if they stumble (Prov.24:17)?

I could keep going….but I think this next one sums it up nicely.

If anyone says, “I love God,” and hates his brother, he is a liar; for he who does not love his brother whom he has seen cannot love God whom he has not seen. And this commandment we have from him: whoever loves God must also love his brother. (1st John 4:20-21)

My wish is to see more encouragement in this world. More affirmation. More compassion. More sincerity. More Love. More Jesus. I know it’s hard to walk along side someone who’s different. It’s hard to be taken out of our comfort zones and be exposed to ideas that might rattle our worldviews. It’s hard to show patience with people. It’s hard to love people, but the alternative of hate is something we must not surrender to. Dr. Martin Luther King said it this way in one of his sermons;

“Now there is a final reason I think that Jesus says, “Love your enemies.” It is this: that love has within it a redemptive power. And there is a power there that eventually transforms individuals. Just keep being friendly to that person. Just keep loving them, and they can’t stand it too long. Oh, they react in many ways in the beginning. They react with guilt feelings, and sometimes they’ll hate you a little more at that transition period, but just keep loving them. And by the power of your love they will break down under the load. That’s love, you see. It is redemptive, and this is why Jesus says love. There’s something about love that builds up and is creative. There is something about hate that tears down and is destructive. So love your enemies.”

This is how Christ overcame this world, and he has called us to do the same.

“For we are what he has made us, created in Christ Jesus for good works, which God prepared beforehand to be our way of life.” (Eph. 2:10)