Racial Healing in a Small Town



Reconciliation statue at Coventry Cathedral.

This is going to be one of those stories where the names and locations are kept anonymous to protect privacy.  When it comes to racial and religious reconciliation, all too often the most heartfelt stories are also the most confidential.

It is a story that needs to be told, though. I will do my best to share the light and protect all parties.

My travels take me all across the US rural Southeast--to small towns and hollers, cities and hamlets, mountaintops, farms and empty lots. For some reason, my work has not yet taken me to the beach, but I have been to just about every other geographic feature in this region. I digress.

This story takes place in one of those small towns.

Like so many locations in the rural Southeast, this town has had a long and difficult history along racial and religious lines. Many people are eager to move beyond the past they have inherited, even if they are not altogether sure how to do that. However, there is much work to be done and many levels of consciousness where this work still needs to happen.

This is a town with a ministerial association. For those not familiar with the term, this is a group where local ministers from various churches come together for dialogue and shared projects. It was not that long ago that mutual condemnation and shunning were the typical manner that churches from different denominations treated each other, so these ministerial alliances have been a huge force in moving beyond that. Pastors get together to break bread, organize events and discern ways to serve the community together.

It can take a tremendous bravery for folks to be willing to give this a try, especially when the history has been particularly difficult. After generations of misunderstandings and mistreatment--with much of it still a very living memory--folks cross religious, racial and ethnic lines to take the first steps toward fellowship with one another in faith. It takes real vulnerability, because doing this will often bring all those unhealed wounds and misunderstandings right to the surface. It takes faith to even try and an outpouring of grace to succeed, and that is exactly why the church can sometimes be the best way to bring a fractured community together.

Among their activities, this ministerial alliance in question has organized a community-wide Martin Luther King Jr. worship service. It has been going on for over 10 years with tentative but strong involvement from local churches, black, white and Hispanic. In fact, every church in town would participate. It was a growing and well-regarded annual occasion.

All that came to a halt when a very unfortunate incident happened.

After an MLK Jr. worship service a few years ago, the assembled people shared food and fellowship. One of the African-American churches had led the assembly in music that day. During this fellowship, a white person was overheard complaining: "I wish those people wouldn't sing so loud!" Word of this got back to the respective churches, and the African-American church that had sung that day became very upset. They subsequently withdrew from the ministerial alliance and from all such events in town.

It may be difficult to understand the kind of harm such a statement can carry if you do not share the same history of segregation, injustice and persecution. This is why it is so important for communities to listen to each other and respect each others' feelings. Was this an offhanded comment of a single individual? It is easy to fear that perhaps this individual was speaking aloud the hidden thoughts of the larger community. It is easy to understand why a community that had experienced a long history of negativity toward them would not want to re-engage with this kind of negativity again, especially if the veil of politeness was masking a hidden racism that manifested as jokes told behind their backs.

Reconciliation can be a very fragile thing. People are silently wondering--can we trust you? Are we really going to put the past behind us and take real steps forward, or are we just going to keep reliving the past? This is true whether the reconciliation is religious, racial, ethnic or along other lines.

In another anonymous town in another anonymous location, I have seen a Catholic and Pentecostal church develop a robust and warm friendship. They were a model relationship and had many layers of connection over the course of a few years. Nevertheless, this partnership came to a screeching halt when old theological fears flared up and one community became worried about the influence and legitimacy of the other. In still other places, I have seen Hispanics and Muslims go from regular, friendly faces in the community to barely tolerated outsiders as larger cultural trends in American politics have a very real local impact on very real individuals. Islamophobia and anti-immigrant rhetoric, so often bandied about in the media and on talk radio, often turns into real bruises on real people in towns all across this country.

Unity can be so fragile.

Going back to the first small town, all the hard work of building harmony together was suddenly eroded after one unfortunate incidence. This African-American church would no longer participate in activities with the other churches. The ministerial alliance continued with their services, but it was not quite the same. It was like a member of the family was no longer there. It was impossible to say the whole community was coming together when it was not.

Some of the pastors attempted to bridge the divide in the years since then, but the offended church was not interested in rejoining.

Until now.
 

Just a couple weeks ago, a group of white women from the community decided to go to this African-American church to attend their worship service. As is customary, there was a time for visitors to stand up, introduce themselves and talk about why they decided to attend worship.

They made an announcement. They said they heard there was a terrible insult. They said they were sorry and apologized. They invited this church to come back, saying, "We need you." They invited them to attend the MLK Jr. Day worship scheduled for the following week and join in the service.

The women were not sure what impact this might have had. On the day of the MLK Jr. service, it looked at first like there was no sign of this African-American church returning and participating in the service. However, one woman saw the pastor and some congregations members sitting in the back. After the service, the women approached them and thanked them for coming. The pastor said he appreciated the invitation. He let them know there was not enough time for the whole choir to prepare, but they would do so another time in the future.

It is easy to feel the first steps toward healing have happened.

 

I was not privy to all the discussion in this community. I do not know what made this church take this step. Perhaps it was a combination of the healing effect of time plus the sum total of other attempts at reconciliation. Nevertheless, this encounter seemed to break the ice.

The power of a public apology is so powerful. These women were able to do what their pastors alone were not. They went out of their way to invite this church back, and their words and actions made it clear--the individual who made that comment does not speak for the whole community.

A public apology is one of the most rarely used tools at our disposal in our culture. We do it even more rarely for actions committed by others in the past. But these women recognized that even though they did not commit this insult, by being part of the community they have a responsibility to make it right.  

I am reminded of the actions of Pope Francis. He goes out of his way on regular occasions to apologize for the actions of some Catholics--or the Catholic Church as a whole--in the past. You can just Google search "Pope Francis apologizes" and you will find a quite a bit of material.

Most recently, Pope Francis apologized for the ways Catholics have treated other Christians throughout history. No, Pope Francis did not personally commit those grievous acts of violence against non-Catholics in previous centuries. But as pope, he along with all faithful Catholics carry the mantle of an inherited tradition. That means inheriting the good as well as the bad. It means a Catholic cannot be proud to stand on the shoulders of the robust intellectual and artistic tradition and the works of mercy of the saints without also living in the tragic legacy of unhealed wounds and tainted riches that have come from dubious sources.

Americans have a difficult time with this. We are quick to be proud of the traditions of our families, our nation and our churches.  We are proud to stand on the shoulders of the noble people who have come before us. However, we distance ourselves from anything negative that comes along with that. Apologies and reparations are widely unpopular in modern US culture.

Whether we personally have committed negative acts directly or not, we as a community always bear responsibility for making it right. It may seem unfair to inherit someone else's mess, but if we are quick to accept the good from our ancestors that means we also have to take ownership of the bad, too. It is a package deal.

There is always a danger in a story like this in portraying the white women as the heroes, which can run the risk of perpetuating a subtle racism rather than overcoming it. However, I think that is a risk worth taking, as long as we proceed with care and sensitivity. Not taking that risk and just doing nothing would be far worse. 

Besides, I don't see this story as one-sided. Both sides of this fracture have taken steps in bravery and vulnerability to work towards reconciliation. I admire people who are willing to do this very difficult but necessary work.  Otherwise, the pain just gets passed down from generation to generation and it never goes away until someone engages with it. Just like Jesus healed through touch, we must also be willing to touch our wounds and the wounds of others for healing to happen. We must proceed gently.  If we err, let's make sure we always err on the side of apologizing too much and giving each other too many chances, rather than too few.  Seventy times seven chances, actually.

Setbacks can bring despair, especially after the hard work of years can seem to evaporate in an instant. But setbacks are to be expected, as the path to reconciliation is rarely a straight line.  Each setback affords us the opportunity to renew our commitment to each other.  A setback can be a fracture or an opportunity for grace.

I suggest we keep this anonymous small town in our thoughts and prayers. They have certainly inspired me.

Let us hope that God continues to bless this work of reconciliation done in Christ's name!

II Corinthians 5:17-20

Therefore if anyone is in Christ, he is a new creature; the old things passed away; behold, new things have come. Now all these things are from God, who reconciled us to Himself through Christ and gave us the ministry of reconciliation, namely, that God was in Christ reconciling the world to Himself, not counting their trespasses against them, and He has committed to us the word of reconciliation. Therefore, we are ambassadors for Christ, as though God were making an appeal through us; we beg you on behalf of Christ, be reconciled to God. He made Him who knew no sin to be sin on our behalf, so that we might become the righteousness of God in Him.

 

The Power of Thanksgiving

I am guilty of underestimating the power of Christian unity.

Perhaps this is a surprising--and rather stark--statement from someone who works to promote Christian unity. Nevertheless, I have to admit to being a doubting Thomas in at least one aspect.

A lot of folks may not realize that even those who work full-time in ministry--perhaps especially those people--often find themselves facing the all-too-common negative impulses of doubt, cynicism and sometimes even despair in the face of the world's problems. I have come to believe that this is not a deviation from the spiritual path--this IS the spiritual path. Being all-positive, all-the-time is not a realistic portrayal of the Christian life, but often those in ministry feel compelled to give that impression.

Being Christian is like being on a ship sailing across the sea. The waves, currents, storms and confusion over the map coordinates are part of the journey. Everyone wants smooth sailing, but it would be unrealistic not to prepare for some distress along the way. Those obstacles do not spontaneously evaporate once you decide to board the ship--sometimes, it is only then when they truly begin. Some people think the spiritual life means going from doubt to certainty and from confusion to clarity. There is truth in that, but the difference is now you are no longer lost at sea or idle on the shore but are instead on a journey going somewhere, even if the way is foggy and the directions are unclear at times. There is clarity in knowing there is a path and you are on it, but the storms will still come. The storms will still come.

So here is my story of confusion over map coordinates:

It is customary for Christians of different denominations to come together to celebrate at certain times of the year. Popular times include Holy Week & Easter, MLK Jr. Day, the Week of Prayer for Christian Unity in January and Thanksgiving week. In the rural Southeast, Thanksgiving week is an incredibly popular time for this. Many church communities step out of their denominational seclusion to hold a community prayer service with other Christians. Some denominations are more likely than others to participate, but these services happen often enough to be a tradition in many towns.

My work takes me across the US Southeast, looking for signs of unity between Christians. I investigate ways Christians have found to come together, resolve differences and stand in their common witness to Christ, despite differences and a long history of divisions.

I am not sure why, but the holiday community services had left me feeling lukewarm. Sure, they are cute, I reasoned, but I was not sure what impact they had or whether they were worth the effort. They just did not interest me much. Still, they are a part of the quest for Christian unity and dutiful to my mission I sought to investigate them.

Perhaps God knew I was going to need more evidence than most people. As if to shake any doubt from my mind, my work gave me an opportunity to see what few people get to see. I spent Thanksgiving week traipsing across the US Southeast going from Thanksgiving service to service. I attended some events firsthand, witnessed the planning of others and heard testimonies of still more. The sheer experience of witnessing these events and seeing their real impact on their respective communities and on participants (including me!) has removed any doubt from my mind: When Christians find their unity amidst their diversity--even for fleeting moments--there is a power like no other. Waves of healing, reconciliation and overall good sentiment can radiate from that. Whole communities can transform.

Our time apart from each other has served to strengthen us so that when we do come together, we are much more dynamic and enlivened.

 

Standing room only at the Early County Thanksgiving Service
at Southside Baptist Church in Blakely, GA!

 

I began Thanksgiving week with a service in south Georgia. The robustly-sized Southside Baptist Church in Blakely, GA, was filled to capacity on November 22 with ushers working hard to bring in additional chairs as the congregation swelled in numbers. Blakely is as deep into the heart of the Deep South as you can go. The religious and racial harmony at this Thanksgiving service made it hard to imagine the South of segregation and hostility. 


Pastor Kenneth Cody of Wesley Chapel
AME Church delivers the message.

This was an enthusiastic service. To my eye, the participating churches were actively engaged and not just passively going along with it. Denominations were present which are not known to mix and mingle: Southern Baptist, Freewill Baptist, Assembly of God, African Methodist Episcopal (AME), Missionary Baptist, Roman Catholic, Methodist and non-denominational. Preachers were both black and white, and the Catholic Hispanic choir even sang in Spanish. In these days of fear, mistrust and division in America, it is good to be reminded of how good it is when America shows its best side. Ain't that America, as the song goes--yes indeed, we can show the world what harmony looks like! No one in this crowd forgot that it is Christ who brings this community together. Christ is able to bridge divisions that would otherwise be difficult to traverse.

The Spanish choir of Holy Family Catholic Church,
with Fr. John Brown in center.

"We enjoy the opportunity to do this together," says Pastor Duane Littlefield of Zion Freewill Baptist Church, speaking at the service. "We are Christians serving one God. God's not Baptist, he's not Methodist, he's not AME, he's not any label. Serving together we can accomplish so much more than we ever could working against each other, as has been the case sometimes."

 

A Catholic, a Methodist and a Lutheran walk into a church in east Tennessee...
L-R: Fr. Steve Pawelk, Pastor John Teffeteller and Pastor Paul Kritsch.

 

The next day, I attended a Christian unity service in east Tennessee. Many churches fill the hollers and towns of Union County, but they have a long history of keeping to themselves--even among churches of the same denomination. Still, the Thanksgiving Service is on its 5th year as the partnerships deepen among participating congregations. Case in point: The Methodist and Catholic congregations have been participating since the initial year, and this year they combined into one joint choir. A newly established Lutheran Church rounded out the leadership, but members from over 11 churches were in attendance. People are hungry to come together and celebrate. Speaking of hunger, when the plans for a potluck did not come to fruition, the assembled crowd spontaneously decided to reconvene at the McDonald's across the street to continue the celebration. It was hard to tell the strangers from the long-time friends in this crowd. God is good!

 

No potluck? No problem! McDonald's is across the street.
This is moveable feast.

 

To round out this series, I was in west Kentucky in the town of Guthrie the following day. Southern Baptist, Roman Catholic, Missionary Baptist and Methodist churches participated. Many of the pastors in this part of the state are working hard as leaders in the community to be a positive light. This community will be featured in an upcoming blog post, because the overwhelming hospitality shown to one congregation after its church building burned down is a story that deserves to be featured in its own right.



A handshake which symbolizes the community Thanksgiving in Guthrie, KY.
Fr. Frank Ruff in center.

People tell me that the rural US Southeast is "mission impossible" when it comes to religious and ethnic reconciliation. Whether that is based on stereotypes, truth or some combination of the two, the image remains. Yet, I have seen some of the finest examples of the miracle of the unity of God's people in these very places. In some of the most segregated towns in America, these services bring black, white and Latino together to embrace, both literally and figuratively. In a religious climate of isolationism and a long history of mistrust between whole denominations as well as individual congregations, disparate churches find ways to stand together.  Offering praise, worship and thanksgiving to an all-loving, merciful God is certainly one thing all Christians can do. I have found that people genuinely want to be a whole, reconciled community. In each service, collections were also taken up to support the local food banks and other works of mercy. In these small towns, many folks already know each other quite well and those personal relationships matter a great deal in their desire for unity.

The three services above--from south Georgia to east Tennessee to west Kentucky--are only a very small snapshot of the kinds of events taking place all over.  People in community after community have testified that the walls come down in their town when the Body of Christ comes together like this. You can feel it.

The challenges of Christian unity can be immense, and often it can be hard to know where to begin. Catholic priest Fr. Frank Ruff urges people to start with what is possible, doing what they are already doing. He refers to the Lund Principle and defines it this way: "Christian churches should do together what they can do together and only do separately what their convictions require them to do separately." Giving Thanks to God is something all Christians can universally agree to do, so that makes Thanksgiving week an ideal time to come together. 

I saw the presence of Christ in these gatherings--not just in the people and their faith, but in the work of Christ reconciling all back to Himself. Christ was not just a person but a verb--an active presence. He was known to me not just in the people but in the "breaking of the bread" between these people. I should have realized that when two or more are gathered in his name, that he would be there, full of grace and surprises, and that he would multiply our efforts and send ripples far beyond the horizons of our limited vision.

It took me a while, but like Thomas, when I finally recognized Christ, I found myself saying, "My Lord and my God!"

God Is Keeping Us Busy With Joy

This is what I have seen to be good: it is fitting to eat and drink and find enjoyment in all the toil with which one toils under the sun the few days of the life God gives us; for this is our lot. Likewise all to whom God gives wealth and possessions and whom he enables to enjoy them, and to accept their lot and find enjoyment in their toil—this is the gift of God.  For they will scarcely brood over the days of their lives, because God keeps them occupied with the joy of their hearts.

-- Ecclesiastes 5:18-20 NRSV
 

It was a blessing that I began the day of the Rutledge Ecumenical Social at Sunday School at Rutledge Baptist Church. We studied the passage from Ecclesiastes above: Qoheleth is struggling on the brink of despair. He seems to fall into utter hopelessness only to spring back just enough to hang on to a little glimmer of hope. He sees people toiling and oppressed with little relief in sight. He is saddened about his short, fleeting life and all his accomplishments which he fears amount to only so much dust.

His story is very modern--like someone experiencing clinical depression and struggling to have any faith in God at all. Yet, Qoheleth finds a way to escape all that despair—as the above passage shows, it is possible find joy in the gifts God has given and to simply trust in God in that joy. He shows us how to navigate the dark, scary times of life when we do not know all the answers and when we flounder to find meaning. He offers a guiding light for some of the most difficult parts of the journey.

Baptist congregation member Sharon made this connection between the Ecclesiastes reading and the three church, three congregation ecumenical social that afternoon: “We can have joy together in our mutual love for the Lord,” she said. “We are celebrating that even though we go to different churches, we come together to laugh and for fellowship because we love the Lord, so we are all brothers and sisters.”

That same joy that Qoheleth ultimately finds is the same joy that three Christian congregations in the eastern Tennessee community of Rutledge have found: God is simply keeping them too busy with joy to be preoccupied with anything negative.
 

L-R: Patty, Fr. Steve, Pastor Chan and Chelsea

 

The Rutledge Ecumenical Social is the latest in a long line of activities between three distinct churches in rural eastern Tennessee: Rutledge United Methodist Church, Rutledge Baptist Church, and St. John Paul II Mission Catholic parish.

 

"We have prayed together, served the needy together, but we have yet to party together," said Catholic pastor Fr. Steve Pawelk on his Facebook wall.

 

Methodist Pastor Ryan Davenport described their process: "Fr. Steve, Pastor "Chan" (Chandler Vinson) and I meet once a month for lunch and for prayer. During those prayer meetings, we think of different ecumenical ministries."

 

Indeed, the three congregations have twice hosted three-day ecumenical revivals. They operate a year-round food pantry for the hungry, which features a turkey giveaway in November. This past summer, they hosted a joint Vacation Bible School. "We have just not sat down and broken bread together," continued Davenport.

 

That is exactly what the three congregations did this past weekend. The initial idea this time came from the Baptist congregation. Having graciously hosted the Vacation Bible School, the adults enjoyed themselves so much they looked for a way to continue the partnership. "The pastors texted each other to pitch the idea," recounted Chan. "The answers came back in less than 5-10 minutes--we were all like, 'we need to do this!'"

 

They picked a neutral location in the center of town. Tasks were divided up and flyers went up around town. On the day of the event, hot dogs were put on the grill and potluck dishes rounded out the meal with a mix of general American picnic fare and a robust selection of Mexican, Filipino and Southern dishes. The fiddler of the Old Time music band Possum Crossing belongs to the JPII congregation and brought his band.

 

Highlights of the event included a corn hole tournament and spontaneous dancing to accompany the music. The latter featured Fr. Steve, Pastor Chan, as well as some parishioners. One man raised the question whether dancing was itself a sin, which prompted a good-natured theological discussion--the only theological concern raised that day.

A serious game of corn hole.



Possum Crossing keeping the crowd toe tappin' to Old Time music.

Fr. Steve dances with Peggy. Photo by Chander Vinson.

 

Perhaps most noteworthy was what was not present. There was no noticeable awkwardness or coldness. A bystander such as myself would have had a hard time distinguishing which members belonged to which congregations, since people mixed so well. The few problems were not theological in nature. Rather, they revolved around the predictable logistical details of hosting an event--the normal hustle and bustle of getting the grill set up and working, directing the buffet line and organizing the clean-up. Baptist church secretary Chelsea and congregation member Patty held the nuts and bolts of this event together seamlessly.

"When we first started working together, I expected at least some backlash from the congregation," confessed Pastor Chan. "There was none. Our churches have ended up loving each other. It has been shockingly easy." 

"It is clear that Fr. Steve, Ryan and Chan really enjoy each other’s company," affirmed Patty. That spirit clearly radiates to their congregations, and perhaps it even ripples outward to the larger community.

"Working together [with he other pastors] is always really easy," affirms Pastor Chan.

Non-Competitive Relationships

A key to the success of this three-congregation, three-denomination partnership is the almost total lack of competition between them.

 

"Competitiveness is a huge hindrance to the mission of God," explained Pastor Ryan. "If we are so worried about how many people are on our rolls, if all we care about is just who we gain or who this building gains, and we are not for the greater good of the community of eradicating drugs, bringing people to Christ and loving 'the least, the last and the lost', then we are not doing our job."

Indeed, even churches that belong to the same denomination rarely get together for common activities in that region. Congregations huddle up and keep to themselves. That makes this three-church partnership a unique witness that participants hope will become more common in time: "I wish that this approach to the faith would be contagious and spread like wildfire everywhere," hoped Pastor Ryan.

"Partnership with the Baptists and Catholics makes the Kingdom of God come more to life. It’s a beautiful thing not to say: 'You’re over there, we’re over here, let’s keep it that way,'" said Pastor Ryan. "That’s not what the Bible ever teaches. What we are trying to do is be faithful to the Bible’s concept of unity.

Impact

I have visited these three congregations before and it is always such a wonderful, joyful witness. It is fascinating to ponder what impact this robust partnership can and will have in the larger community.

"I have seen greater friendliness on the streets--at the grocery store and bank,” said Fr. Steve. "There is a greater sense of community. We are constantly building relationships." He said that the congregations originally met as strangers, but through ecumenical events and joint ministry work there are now many lasting friendships that have formed.

"Denominational distinctions are on the outs," predicted Ryan. He used the lunch table where he was seated to illustrate this point. Along with Baptists, Methodists and Catholics were people with a background in the Quaker and Episcopal traditions, for example. Yet, they now worship together, study the Bible together and serve the community together. "There is a slew of different flavors of Christianity at this one table." 



"May I have this dance?"

Patty shared a compatible point: "I was brought up Catholic, but I am non-denominational now." Her church membership is not based on denomination but rather the draw of a particular pastor and the connection and acceptance of a congregation--"That's what drives my train now," she explained.

 

The overall sentiment is that in the larger community there has been too much focus on differences and not enough on similarities. "When I was growing up as the daughter of a Baptist deacon, there were very definite divisions between denominations," recounted Baptist member Peggy. "We forgot to focus on the fact that we all believe in God and worship God.”

 

Peggy told the story of her neighbor of 35 years who is a Catholic: “We decided St. Peter’s not going to ask us which denomination we belong to--he is going to ask us: 'Have you been a good and faithful servant?'"

 

She finds the technical differences between denominations tedious: "It is all very confusing to me, which is why you just have to take it on faith."

 

The spirituality of that statement is profound in light of the Ecclesiastes reading above, and it is a fitting way to understand the quest for Christian unity. Most groups do not get along as well as these congregations. Sometimes the obstacles between Christian denominations are so strong that it can be all too easy to fall into despair—the theological differences, history of hurt, misconceptions and prejudices can all pile on top of each other to create a multi-layered mess of epic proportions. We can be left not knowing what we could possibly do about it, wondering how these obstacles could ever be overcome.

 

Still, we can move forward in faith, at ease because we do not need to know all the answers but instead can trust in God's gift of joy, like Qoheleth.

 

"Some people around town are in such a shock that we do all these things," cited Sharon. They say, ‘You do something with that church?’ They lower their voice when they say that. But we all love the Lord, that’s our foundation… to me, it is a joyful thing to celebrate."

 

Sharon noticed a signal from the grill master and interrupted what she was saying to announce: "Hot dogs are ready!! Enough about all that," she playfully exclaimed and quickly left behind the talk of differences and negativity to go back to the party.

 

Indeed: God is keeping this group too busy with joy to dwell on differences.




L-R: Fr. Steve, Pastor Ryan and Pastor Chan.

 

A polka lesson.

 

 

Belief or Pratice - What Makes a Christian?

For most of the last 500 years since the Protestant Reformation, denominations in Western Christianity have been obsessed with making sure they have the right doctrine. The assumption in western Christianity has often been this: Being a Christian is about having the right salvation plan and your very salvation plan depends entirely on the right set of beliefs. 

Beliefs are the meat & potatoes in this model while actions are treated as the optional gravy side dish. Having the right beliefs is the foundation in this mindset, and on that foundation, a church community has some flexibility in the way those truths are lived out. Various styles and charisms follow. The beliefs are absolute; the practices vary. We are sympathetic when people do not live into the difficult prescriptions in the Gospel for our lifestyle, but we hold as absolute our beliefs. 

Jesus called on us to be "salt of the earth" (Matthew 5:13), but he seemed to imply something much more essential than just an optional flavoring. 

 

This belief-centered approach is promoted even when the language goes to theological extremes that few can understand. Even the most educated theologians struggle to understand slim nuances of difference between theological arguments. Nevertheless, many churches have not hesitated to claim that your eternal life depends on having the right beliefs and joining the right club.

I have an advanced degree in Theology, and yet I still do not understand the differences between any number of hot button church dividing issues.

Those nuances DO matter. But is it possible that we may sometimes obsess over the finer points of theology as a distraction from actually changing our lifestyle in light of the revelation of Christ?  

The belief-first model makes sense on some levels: For example, we can all agree on the belief that feeding the hungry is important. How we feed the hungry can legitimately change shape depending on the circumstances. Still, not all methods are equal, and therein lies the rub.

 

We also know that humans are imperfect, and we believe in a God of compassion and forgiveness in our mistakes to manifest this truth we have come to know. We may fail to freed the hungry but still affirm that feeding the hungry is important.

 

I am suggesting something more symbiotic: 

The truth impacts the way we live, so having different beliefs will definitely bring about different practices. It goes the other way, too: The way we practice the Christian faith informs our beliefs. By practicing mercy, for example, we come to know God and therefore expand our beliefs, not to mention demonstrate what we actually mean by those beliefs. By getting to know the world better through servanthood, our beliefs broaden, deepen and develop.



Left: Traditional Model - Belief Centered
Right:  Symbiotic Model

I liken it to the way Scripture and Tradition have a symbiotic relationship in Catholic theology--bouncing off each other, informing each other, each providing a lens to see the other.  

I would be hesitant to suggest that practice is more important than belief. For now, I am comfortable saying that the two should be kept in balance.

The relationship between belief and practice would follow in a similar way:

Our knowing helps us to do --

and our doing helps us to know.

 

"The medium is the message," as philosopher Marshall McLuhan said and my Theology advisor always reminded me. Belief and practice are expressed as one phenomenon. How something is conveyed is just a part of the message as the explanation that may accompany it. There is a oneness here. Thought cannot be divorced from action. 

Telling someone you love them while punching them in the face gives at best a mixed message, if it is not an outright contradiction. It certainly calls into question your definition of love and your meaning, intention and conviction behind it. You may believe in love, but do you really know love? I am using "know" here in the Biblical sense--a whole-person experience rather than just a detached intellectual experience.
 
Obviously, we will all have ideals that we fall short of realizing. I am suggesting something more than simply "practice what we preach." I am saying that the way we understand the faith could benefit greatly if we understood the Christian life as being as much a verb as a noun.

The famous love passages in 1 Corinthians 13 backs this up. Grace--as understood as faith, hope and love--is the only thing that is eternal or coherent, according to the passage. Knowledge, prophecy--everything, really--all pass away, but faith, hope and love endure. All else is only so much senseless noise. It is only God's grace which brings order out of chaos, which turns that senseless noise into music and which brings something that dies to life. Our participation in this is a more energetic relationship than an intellectual, contractual agreement.
 

Hiding-in-Plain-Sight Christianity

 

The spiritual path can be hard, and it is easy to hide from it. There is no better way of fooling people--and yourself--than hiding in plain sight. We do this by talking about Christianity. We may practice a few core disciplines that our tradition mandates--we may go to church and abstain from certain behaviors, for example. But do our lives actually give witness to what we claim to believe? Is there even an attempt made to express the radical reality of Christ? Do we know Christ only in our thoughts but not elsewhere?

 

The western mind is the descendent of the Ancient Greeks. Their heavily analytical style broke apart reality into pieces for study and comment. The human person in its wholeness became thought of as mind, body and soul. This kind of fragmentation is great for analytical study so long as we do not lose sight of the integrated whole. The Greeks may have inadvertently paved the way for the way we nowadays often see belief and practice as so distinct as to be virtually unrelated to each other. 

 

The Letter of James attempts to remind us that the human experience is whole: "For just as the body without the spirit is dead, so faith without works is also dead" (James 2:26).

The great Reformers cautioned us with this. They wanted to quell the idea that humans are in charge of our destiny and that somehow we can "earn" salvation from our own efforts. It is a fair point, but they miss an even bigger point: Grace itself is a holistic experience of faith, hope and love that is not limited to the mental affirmation of belief. When we say that faith is crucial but works are not, we are acting like attendance in the locker room is essential but participation in the game itself is optional. Good works become a kind of optional victory lap in the Christian life rather than the race itself.

James challenges us more than most Christians are willing to consider. Consider this often ignored line: "Even the demons believe--and shudder" (James 2:19). Belief is not enough--the Christian experience must be more than that.

Faith without works is dead not because we earn salvation, as many in the Reformation argued. It is dead because the Christian life is not merely an intellectual head game--it is a whole-person endeavor.

 

A lot of people like to talk about religion. It is like theology is a puzzle to figure out, and they brood over it deeply. Indeed, many people have the spiritual calling--or burden--to be theologians. Their minds are unceasingly pondering the great mysteries and trying to glean what we can know of God from what has been revealed. Still, one of the great hiding places for the westerner is to hide in her/his own mind. We need thinkers, but when thoughts are too separated from a lived expression they fall short.

Defining Ourselves By Orthopraxy

Christians tend to group themselves along lines of belief. What if we were to group Christians along lines of practice?

Take something like the peace movement—very united in practice, but not always united in dogma, as people come from a variety of traditions. Yet at the same time, the practice of peace does bring about a sense of who humans are and our place in the cosmos—an implied theology is there. The peace movement is a kind of "church." Perhaps according to the test of Matthew 25, maybe we need to remove the phrase "kind of" and say "is"--it is a church in the sense that it is doing what Christ says to do.

 

The same is probably true of other movements, such as the charismatic movement or missionary movement(s). Movements have a theology. 

My colleague Dr. Rick Stern noticed that there is a unique and identifiable theology in the lyrics of bluegrass music. The practice of the music, the community which has formed around it and the revelations discovered through its practice have give it a distinct charism, or theology.   

Jesus answered, “I am the way and the truth and the life. No one comes to the Father except through me."
—John 14:6 NIV

This is a verse most Christians have heard over and over again. It just becomes part of the wallpaper of daily life—it is so central, yet it can be so overlooked.

 

Jesus announces that He is the Way, the Truth, and the Life.  In other words:

* No one comes to the Father except through the Truth of Jesus. 

* No one comes to the Father except through the Way of Jesus. 

* No one comes to the Father except through a Life in Jesus. 

 

Practicing Christianity may be just as important as believing in the right Christianity. To this point, many early Christians were referred to as followers of the Way (Acts 9:2).

 

Even the word "truth" itself is not necessarily about intellectual assent but about the Mystery of Jesus as the Incarnation of God. It is how we are in relationship with this Mystery and the impact it has on our lives that matters.

Merely identifying the Truth alone is only part of the equation, and I believe this is what James was warning us about. James was not fostering a "salvation by works" theology as much as he was reminding us that the challenge of Christ is a whole person endeavor, and he was trying to call us out of one of our favorite hiding places: Our mind.

For Further Reading

Saving Souls, Not Dogma, is the Heart of Pastoral Church Life discusses a paradigm shift along the lines of this post and was helpful in constructing it.

The First Canon: Mercy offers the quote by Pope Francis below which I believe also speaks to the relationship of faith/works and orthodoxy/orthopraxy:

"Mercy is not just a pastoral attitude,

but it is the very substance of the Gospel of Jesus."

-- Pope Francis

Reaching Across Brokenness

Br. Curt Kedley outside of a Missionary Baptist church
in Bertie County, North Carolina.

“Broken.” 

That is the first word that Brother Curt Kedley uses to describe the areas where he has served as a consecrated Catholic religious brother with the Glenmary Home Missioners. This includes his many years in rural Georgia and several years in eastern North Carolina where he is currently serving.

He has seen brokenness in the festering, multi-generational poverty. He has seen it in the lack of opportunities to grow, nourish and support human persons to reach their full potential. He has found it in the significant racial divide between black and white that persists strongly to this day, especially in rural areas.

It is daunting to stand in the face of all that brokenness and discern what one person could possibly do in response.

In the early 80s, he was part of a group of Glenmary priests and brothers that set out to meet the community on its own terms through simple living, service and Christian witness. He assisted in Glenmary's mission parishes and was a presence in the community through social work and a bustling home repair ministry. Still, he was looking for something more.

Beginnings

The answer came to him at the Hancock County Fair in Georgia in 1982. He was one of the very few white people attending the fair among thousands of African-Americans. He did not know anyone--he was just mingling, meandering and getting to know the area. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he was also discerning a direction for his ministry.

A woman came up to him and seemed to want to to know who he was, so they started talking. The conversation ended with an invitation: "You have got to come to our church," she told him.

"I'll be there tomorrow!" replied Curt.

He describes this as a "very spiritual encounter" and says he has never looked back from that moment. He found his direction: One significant way that he has felt compelled to reach out across all the brokenness he saw was through solidarity in worship.

A Ministry Quickly Evolves

That first church was Jones Chapel African Methodist Episcopal (AME) Church. He started visiting other churches, mostly African-American ones. This quickly evolved into a regular ministry.

Br. Curt felt that the best way to serve this ministry was to have a regular presence worshipping at these churches. Trust takes time, and there were so many barriers to overcome--He is Catholic; they are Evangelical Protestants. He is white; they are mostly black. He is from the North (originally Iowa); and this is the South. His own roots growing up in a small, rural town was one point of connection among many differences.

He would select a group of around a half-dozen, mostly African-American churches where he would worship. The small number of churches meant that he could be reasonably certain to make an appearance at least every 2-3 months, if not more often. He could become a part of the community.

The majority of the churches have been African Methodist Episcopal (AME), Christian Methodist Episcopal (CME) and Missionary Baptist. This has been mostly a personal preference--he experimented with Pentecostal and other larger mega churches, but they just did not appeal to him as much as the smaller, more traditional country churches.

The rhythm of church life in rural black churches of the South can be vastly different from Catholic Churches up north. There is often no resident preacher. Services may be held only two Sundays each month with a preacher driving great distances to preside. One preacher Curt remembers fondly would drive 75-100 miles one-way in an old beat up car, and "he did not look like he had two nickels to rub together, but he came faithfully." A deacon or associate usually leads the congregation through the service with the preacher only speaking during the sermon.

Over the years, Curt has phased over 50 churches in and out of his rotation. Changes in church leadership, the closing down of a church or other factors would prompt a natural time to part ways. He also felt he had spread himself too thin in the early days of this ministry and had to scale back. Sometimes he fears the impact wears off when he becomes just a regular face in the congregation, and he feels it could be more beneficial to break new ground elsewhere. The difficulty is stopping--people ask why and are disappointed when he stops going. "'Why isn't he coming anymore?' I hear that question all the time," he says.

A Lesson Learned

Br. Curt Kedley is a man who knows his vocation well. He has the soul of a consecrated religious brother and knows this deep down in his marrow. He has never wanted to be a priest or lead a worship service but rather prefers to be among the people.

When he first visited these non-Catholic churches in Georgia, he naturally let people know that he was a Catholic, and when they would ask what he did for a living, he would tell them that he had a formal ministry with the Catholic Church. He avoided the term "brother," because that has different connotations in the black Protestant community, and instead he would say he is a "Catholic Church worker" or a "missionary laborer."

What he did not expect was that he would almost invariably be asked to co-lead the worship service, even though he was clear to avoid calling himself a "minister." Nevertheless, he was still seen as a person of the cloth and invited to participate in leading worship. "I was always given a role," he explains, and he would feel obliged to accept. It could be reading Scripture, praying over the people during the offering or at the end of the service or even preaching.  He would sit up front with the other worship leaders. "I always felt real distant from the people. It was hard to connect with them," he says.

Despite his discomfort, he experienced some of the most touching moments "behind the scenes" at these churches. Usually about 20 minutes before a service, all the worship leaders would meet in the pastor's study to "chew the fat, talk about Scripture and pray. Sometimes there would be an anointing--I was always impressed by that," he recalls.

When his assignment with Glenmary had him relocate to North Carolina, he started up with a new group of churches, and he has been careful to omit mention of any formal ministry relationship. He is clear to tell them that he is Catholic, but now describes his role more like a lay person. This allows him to be a part of the general congregation, where he feels right at home.

Ministry of Presence: Incarnation

At first glance, the ministry appears relatively simple and straightforward—Br. Curt attends churches as a form of ecumenical outreach. However, that deceptive simplicity hides a deep spirituality of presence and solidarity.

Presence can mistakenly seem like a passive ministry. However, in order to be truly present, Curt has to be fully engaged and active with the individuals and community he serves—to know them, to walk with them and to suffer with them as they suffer. It is "full, conscious and active participation," to borrow a phrase from Vatican II. This phrase was originally coined to describe the role of the faithful in Catholic liturgy, but it also transcends that definition as good worship should naturally flow into a Christian's life

Jesus himself modeled solidarity by choosing to enter into the human condition through the Incarnation. He choose to share in our situation, including all of the suffering that can accompany earthly life.

The simple act of going to someone else's church is a way to imitate Christ. Presence says so much while saying so little. It is a way of saying—I want to enter your world and share in that with you. I want to be a part of your lives--the good and the bad.

 

The goal is not to fix it or change it but just to be there. It is a way of acknowledging that all people are children of the same God and all Christians are followers of the same Christ.

Glenmary priest Fr. Steve Pawelk shares this reflective litmus test which speaks to the real meaning of presence: "Am I doing too much and not being enough?"

Being present is a powerful witness--perhaps even more powerful than sending in a check of hard-earned money to support a charitable effort. It is a way of offering our very self and demonstrating--by example--that someone else is worthy of our time and attention.

Impact?

This has been more than just an outreach ministry for Curt. He freely admits he goes to African-American Protestant churches to be nourished, as well--"no doubt about it," he says.

"It is always an honor to be there," he describes, "and I consider them to be kindred spirits. The black churches have an incredible sense of hospitality, and I have always felt welcome there. I can not say the same thing about white churches, including Catholic ones."

He asserts that breaking down the racial barrier is his primary motive, but the ecumenical connection is also important. Curt attributes a number of factors to misunderstandings between the Catholic and African-American communities.  "It is a big stumbling block that Catholics do not have female deacons," he says. In addition, he cites that the hierarchical structure of the Catholic Church and the "quieter" worship style are not well understood by the black community, in general.

 

Curt describes the overall lack of Catholic outreach to the African-American community as "sinful."  Historically, Catholics have largely kept to themselves in their own Italian, Irish and Polish ethic communities, for example, and this has not helped the perception of Catholics by black Protestants.  This has been especially true in rural areas where there is very little integration.

True to his humble nature, Curt is modest about the impact of this ministry. "I have never been able to measure it," he admits.

 

However, reports from folks who have worked, worshipped and lived with him tell an altogether different story. "I take him as a holy person . . . a Christian person who did a lot of good," said a resident of Hancock County, GA.  Others have shared similar regards. 

 

Still, the impact of a ministry of presence like this can be very difficult to calculate--it is truly an effort of faith.  The ripples of goodwill and healing may be difficult to measure, but it is important to hope that they leave a lasting impression.

 

Bread For Your Journey

Glenmary has a long promoted a ministry of visiting other churches. Glenmary priest Fr. Frank Ruff attests that it is one of the most effective ways of overcoming misunderstandings and building ecumenical bridges. "It is an act of humility and vulnerability to go to another church for no other reason than to join them in praise of God," he says. He believes that visiting other churches is the best way to witness to our common brother and sisterhood as Christians, and it also initiates dialogue, fosters understanding and overcomes prejudice.

Br. Curt Kedley is a shining example of this kind of ministry. He certainly has made the ministry his own and has crafted it according to his unique temperament and vocation. Hopefully, there is something in his story that can inspire all of us. While his many years of regular outreach to dozens of churches may seem daunting to the average person, is there perhaps a small piece that we can each glean from his story and apply to our own ministry?

 

Perhaps we can cultivate a relationship with a single church that is different from our own and visit it from time to time?  It is the kind of ministry that is both simple and profound and is truly accessible to each person. 

 

What other ideas do the experiences of Br. Curt Kedley inspire in you?