Baptists

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Healing that old Sunday morning racial divide? Start with pastors breaking bread

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Healing that old Sunday morning racial divide? Start with pastors breaking bread

The Rev. Martin Luther King, Jr., faced a barrage of questions about race and politics during his landmark 1960 appearance on NBC News' "Meet the Press," but one of the most memorable exchanges concerned a blunt question about church life.

"How many white people are members of your church in Atlanta?", asked a reporter from Nashville.

"I think it is one of the tragedies of our nation, one of the shameful tragedies, that 11 o'clock on Sunday morning is one of the most segregated hours, if not the most segregated hour, in Christian America," King replied. Any church that has "a segregated body is standing against the spirit and the teachings of Jesus Christ, and it fails to be a true witness," he added.

Millions of Americans are still wrestling with this Sunday morning divide.

But another practical question emerged during a recent Southern Baptist Convention program entitled "Pursuing Unity: A Discussion of Racial Reconciliation Efforts and the SBC." Can Black and White church folks find gaps in their jammed schedules and start breaking bread together?

"It doesn't matter how many panel discussions you watch. It doesn't matter how many books you read, how many conferences you go to. None of that will do better than dinner table ministry," said the Rev. Jon Kelly of Chicago West Bible Church.

If people want progress, he said, they need to consider their circle of friends and ask "why everyone looks like me, votes like me, thinks like me. … When we talk about racial reconciliation, we want the fruit of reconciliation without the relationships. Until our dinner tables become diversified, … until we eat bread together and fellowship together, we won't make any progress."

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Is the Southern Baptist Convention preparing to fight its 1979 all over again?

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Is the Southern Baptist Convention preparing to fight its 1979 all over again?

Once upon a time, Southern Baptists in Bible Belt communities knew how to talk to people who didn't go to church.

"We were dealing with people who were, for the most part, like us," said Baptist historian Nathan Finn, the provost of North Greenville University, located in the South Carolina hills near the North Carolina border. "Everyone understood sweet tea, fried chicken and SEC football. It was easier to talk to those people about Jesus."

Things changed, as the greater Greenville-Spartanburg welcomed waves of high-tech firms and industries with global brands such as BMW, Bosch, Fluor, Hitachi and many others. Today's newcomers speak German or Japanese.

"It's not Black folks and White folks from the South. We're past that. The Sunbelt has gone global and we're more urban. We don't know how to talk to the new people," said Finn. "The cultural gaps are bigger. … Southern Baptists are better at handling these kinds of issues in foreign missions than in our own communities."

Finn has been studying this trend and others for years, which led him to write a series of articles in 2009 for Southeastern Baptist Theological Seminary entitled "Fifteen Factors that have Changed the SBC since 1979."

Anyone who knows Southern Baptist Convention history gets that 1979 reference. That was when activists backing "biblical inerrancy" attacked establishment leaders of America's largest Protestant flock, while also supporting causes favored by the surging Religious Right. Electing one SBC president after another during the 1980s, this "conservative resurgence" helped change the face of evangelicalism.

There are signs a second Baptist civil war may be ahead. A key moment came on March 1, when SBC President Ed Litton of Alabama said he would not -- as has become the norm -- seek a second term. Last June, he narrowly defeated a pastor from the Conservative Baptist Network, a new coalition that insists SBC leaders have become "too woke" on Critical Race Theory, the role of women, COVID-19 policies and other fault lines in American life.

Finn is convinced that Southern Baptists are, this time around, fighting over how to respond to rapid cultural changes, as opposed to the theological disputes of the past.

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How can churches fight sexual abuse? Denhollander has practical, spiritual advice

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How can churches fight sexual abuse? Denhollander has practical, spiritual advice

In this age of small-group ministries, most pastors would know how to handle a crisis that affected significant numbers of believers in their pews.

"If you had one in four members of your congregation actively battling cancer or one in four members … experiencing being widowed or losing a spouse, chances are that you would have some level of intentional ministry to those individuals," said Rachel Denhollander, in a recent Trinity Forum event focusing on how churches respond to sexual abuse. "Maybe you would have a support group or a Bible study for them. You would have meal trains to help provide for their physical needs."

But many sexual-abuse victims hesitate to speak out, she said, because churches act as if they don't exist. Thus, they have little reason to believe the sins and crimes committed against them will be handled in a way that offers safety and healing. Far too many religious leaders act as if they haven't grasped the magnitude of this crisis.

"There is an astonishing perception gap and it's really inexcusable at this point in time," she said, speaking to victims, clergy and activists online -- including participants in 24 nations outside the United States. "We've had the data, literally, for decades. … Even what we know is dramatically undercounted.

"The statistic has stayed right around one in four women, for sexual violence, by the time they reach age 18. … The rate continues to rise and there really isn't any excuse, at this point in time, for not knowing that data. But sometimes, it's emotionally easier to not know that data and all of us have that intrinsic desire to not have to see the darkness that's around us."

Sexual abuse is a hot-button issue everywhere, from small fundamentalist flocks to the Roman Catholic Church. Revelations from #MeToo scandals have rocked the careers of A-list players in entertainment, politics, sports, academia and business.

Denhollander is an attorney, activist and author who is best known as the first female gymnast to publicly accuse Larry Nassar -- team physician for U.S.A. Gymnastics -- of committing sexual abuse during physical-therapy sessions. When telling her own story, she stresses that she was also abused in church, at age 7.

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Jan 6th U.S. Capitol riot or return of Taliban: Which was the top 2021 religion-news story?

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Jan 6th U.S. Capitol riot or return of Taliban: Which was the top 2021 religion-news story?

For journalists who braved the chaos, the Jan. 6th riot on Capitol Hill offered a buffet of the bizarre -- a throng of Proud Boys, QAnon prophets, former U.S. military personnel and radicalized Donald Trump supporters that crashed through security lines and, thus, into history.

Many protestors at Trump’s legal "Save America" rally carried signs, flags and banners with slogans such as "Jesus is my Savior, Trump is my president" or simply "Jesus 2020." In this context, "Jesus saves" took on a whole new meaning.

Some of that symbolism was swept into the illegal attack on the U.S. Capitol.

In its poll addressing major religion events in 2021, members of the Religion News Association offered this description of the top story: "Religion features prominently during the Jan. 6 assault on the U.S. Capitol by pro-Trump insurrectionists. Some voice Christian prayers, while others display Christian or pagan symbols and slogans inside and outside the Capitol."

Consider, for example, Jacob Anthony Chansley -- or Jake "Yellowstone Wolf" Angeli. With his coyote-skin and buffalo-horns headdress, red, white and blue face paint and Norse torso tattoos, the self-proclaimed QAnon shaman, UFO expert and metaphysical healer became the instant superstar of this mash-up of politics, religion and digital conspiracy theories.

"Thank you, Heavenly Father … for this opportunity to stand up for our God-given inalienable rights," he said, in a video of his U.S. Senate remarks from the vice president's chair. "Thank you, divine, omniscient, omnipotent, omnipresent Creator God for filling this chamber with your white light and love. Thank you for filling this chamber with patriots that love you and that love Christ. …

“Thank you for allowing the United States of America to be reborn. Thank you for allowing us to get rid of the communists, the globalists and the traitors within our government."

That was one loud voice. A big question that must be answered, in future trials and the U.S. House investigation, is whether it's true -- as claimed by the New York Times -- that the "most extreme corners of support for Mr. Trump have become inextricable from some parts of white evangelical power in America."

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It's time for reporters to update their mental images of many Southern Baptist churches

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It's time for reporters to update their mental images of many Southern Baptist churches

Anyone looking for Baptists should head to Greenville, S.C.

"People here say you can throw a rock in one direction and hit a Southern Baptist church and if you throw a rock in the other direction you'll hit an independent Baptist church," said Nathan A. Finn, provost of North Greenville University.

Finn's school -- with strong Southern Baptist ties -- isn't the only brand of "Baptist" life in town. There's the progressive Furman University, as well as the independent Bob Jones University, known for its rock-ribbed Baptist defense of fundamentalism.

The Baptist world is extremely complex and hard for many outsiders to navigate. Some of this confusion, said Finn, affects life inside the most prominent Baptist flock -- the Southern Baptist Convention -- and perceptions of SBC conflicts.

"Lots of people need to understand that Southern Baptists are far more diverse, ethnically and culturally, than they think we are," he said, in a telephone interview. "At the same time, we're more uniformly conservative that we often appear, especially since we spend so much time fighting with each other over some of the small points of theology on which we differ."

With some of these stereotypes in mind, Finn recently fired off a dozen Twitter messages describing different images of real "Southern Baptist" churches that are common today. The goal, he said, was to create "composites of what different kinds of SBC congregations look like" and he gave them "names that are common with certain types of real churches."

There is, of course, a "First Baptist Church" which Finn described as "a downtown church that runs 500 in worship. The church is affluent, which is reflected in their beautiful building. The worship service is traditional. There are lots of programs & committees" and the congregation is known for big donations to the SBC's shared "Cooperative Program" budget.

Then there is one of the megachurches that have dominated the American religious marketplace in recent decades. While the word "Baptist" is missing in its name, Finn noted: "CrossWay Church is a suburban church that runs 1400 in two services. The 'feel' of each service is laid back & contemporary. CrossWay has excellent recreational facilities" and its leaders are "considering launching a second campus."

These big churches frequently make headlines.

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Flowers and the First Amendment: Once again, the Supreme Court elects to punt

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Flowers and the First Amendment: Once again, the Supreme Court elects to punt

Florist Barronelle Stutzman and Robert Ingersoll have shared many details from the 2013 conversation that changed their lives and, perhaps, trends in First Amendment law.

For nine years, Ingersoll was a loyal customer at Arlene's Flowers in Richland, Wash., and that included special work Stutzman did for Valentine's Day and anniversaries with his partner Curt Freed. Then, a year after the state legalized same-sex marriages, Ingersoll asked her to design the flower arrangements for his wedding.

Stutzman took his hand, Ingersoll recalled, and said: "You know I love you dearly. I think you are a wonderful person, but my religion doesn't allow me to do this."

In a written statement to the Christian Science Monitor, Ingersoll wrote: "While trying to remain composed, I was … flooded with emotions and disbelief of what just happened." He knew many Christians rejected gay marriage but was stunned to learn this was true for Stutzman.

As stated in recent U.S. Supreme Court documents: "Barronelle Stutzman is a Christian artist who imagines, designs and creates floral art. … She cannot take part in or create custom art that celebrates sacred ceremonies that violate her faith."

This legal drama appears to have ended with Stutzman's second trip to the high court and its July 2 refusal to review a Washington Supreme Court decision the drew a red line between a citizen's right to hold religious beliefs and the right to freely exercise these beliefs in public life. Supreme Court justices Clarence Thomas, Samuel Alito and Neil Gorsuch backed a review, but lacked a fourth vote.

"This was shocking" to religious conservatives "because Barronelle seemed to have so many favorable facts on her side," said Andrew T. Walker, who teaches ethics at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary.

Stutzman is a 76-year-old grandmother and great-grandmother who faces the loss of her small business and her retirement savings. She has employed gay staffers. She helped Ingersoll find another designer for his wedding flowers. In the progressive Northwest, her Southern Baptist faith clearly makes her part of a religious minority.

"Barronelle is a heretic because she has clashed with today's version of progressivism," said Walker.

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Nashville 2021 redux: For Southern Baptists, sermons are how they get their work done

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Nashville 2021 redux: For Southern Baptists, sermons are how they get their work done

Whenever the Southern Baptist Convention gathers in times of trials and turmoil, one thing is certain -- someone will preach a sermon that makes a difference.

That's how Southern Baptists do what they do. These sermons may not produce as many headlines as SBC elections or fiery debates about hot-button social issues. But the sermons matter.

The big sermon during the 2021 convention in Nashville came at a logical moment -- when SBC President J.D. Greear gave his farewell address, just before tense voting to elect his successor.

In this "defining moment" address, the leader of the Summit Church in Raleigh-Durham, N.C., offered a stinging quote about an elephant that has camped in the SBC fellowship hall.

"We have to decide," Greear said, "if we want our convention primarily to be a political voting bloc or if we want it to be a Great Commission people. … Whenever the church gets in bed with politics, the church gets pregnant, and the offspring does not look like our Father in heaven."

America is important, he stressed. But America is not the whole picture for believers striving to build churches around the world. "God has not called us primarily to save America politically. He has called us to make the Gospel known to all," said Greear.

Southern Baptists can agree that "no compromise should be tolerated" on crucial social issues, he said. And no one wants to stop defending the inerrant truth of the Bible.

"We are not talking about being ambiguous on the sanctity of life and marriage, the sinfulness of homosexuality, God's design in gender," he said. "These are things faithful Christians cannot disagree on, and our consciences are captive in these areas to the Word of God."

The question, he said, is how SBC leaders and pastors handle these issues when working with seekers and unbelievers. And at some point, Southern Baptists need to admit that they will not agree, every time, on what political strategies to use while defending doctrine.

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Who's calling who 'Potiphar's wife'? Southern Baptist wars enter a dramatic new stage

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Who's calling who 'Potiphar's wife'? Southern Baptist wars enter a dramatic new stage

It's hard to follow warfare inside the Southern Baptist Convention without a working knowledge of biblical symbolism.

Consider this passage in a May 31 letter (.pdf here) from the Rev. Russell Moore to SBC President J.D. Greear, which described key events leading to his recent resignation as head of the denomination's Ethics and Religious Liberty Commission.

"You and I both heard, in closed door meetings, sexual abuse survivors spoken of in terms of 'Potiphar's wife' and other spurious biblical analogies," wrote Moore, in a letter posted at the Baptist Blogger website. "The conversations in these closed door meetings were far worse than anything Southern Baptists knew. … And as you know, this comes on the heels of a track-record of the Executive Committee staff and others referring to victims as 'crazy' and, at least in one case, as worse than the sexual predators themselves."

Who was "Potiphar's wife"? She was known for her efforts to manipulate Joseph during his enslavement in Egypt. The Genesis narrative notes: "Now Joseph was handsome and good-looking. And after a time, his master's wife cast her eyes upon Joseph, and said, 'Lie with me.' " When Joseph refused, the seductress accused him of assault and had him jailed.

It's easy to see how "Potiphar's wife" insults would fit into attempts to discredit Moore and activists who want America's largest Protestant flock to change how its agencies, seminaries and nearly 48,000 autonomous congregations deal with sexual abuse.

Moore's resignation, after years of attacks by critics, has pushed sexual abuse to the top of the agenda at the SBC's June 15-16 national meetings in Nashville -- along with the election of a new president.

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COVID-19 and 2020: When clergy stress zoomed to higher levels than ever

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COVID-19 and 2020: When clergy stress zoomed to higher levels than ever

When training pastors and chaplains, educators frequently stress the need for "boundaries" between work and home.

Clergy need -- somehow -- to find "personal" time, along with face-to-face contact with loved ones. That challenge became more difficult in the age of smartphones, texting and emails, noted Marlon C. Robinson, pastoral care director at AdventHealth in Manchester, Ky., and a specialist in marriage and family therapy.

Then came the COVID-19 lockdowns and the pressures on clergy zoomed to a whole new level.

"Everything came home, all at once," said Robinson, reached by telephone. "Pastors were spending more and more time with their families -- jammed into one space. But this wasn't quality time. Everyone was at home, but they were staring at their own phones and computer screens. There was no intimacy, and all the pressures of ministry grew even more intense."

To make matters worse, the usual struggles with church leadership and finances were complicated by political warfare and conspiracy theories that, literally, began to shape how congregations handled worship, pastoral care, education and even efforts to keep sanctuaries clean and safe.

Instead of arguing -- to cite church clichés -- about the color of new carpet or outdated hymnals, the faithful were fighting about whether masks were necessary to save lives or merely "politically correct" virtue signals.

Meanwhile, people were sick, and some died, with their pastors and families on the other side of locked hospital or nursing-home doors. And it was illegal to have funerals? Attendance dropped, along with offerings. More than a few members vanished.

Ministers "are inundated with phone calls, emails, text and WhatsApp messages, and communications through a host of other platforms," wrote Robinson, in Ministry Magazine.