Before moving to Hawaii, I worked at a church in Nashville. I was the Pastor of a congregation called Emmaus Fellowship. We met in the gymnasium of a larger, mostly white commuter church. The Emmaus congregation lived within 6-8 blocks of the church and was about 50% black, 40% white, and 10% hispanic. We were made up of mostly low-income and houseless neighbors in East Nashville. While I tended to the spiritual and social needs of the congregation, I was a staff member of the larger church. Part of my role was to mediate the difference between these two disparate congregations – mostly because I knew we needed each other.
It wore me out.
I witnessed parents of teenagers at the church work to keep us from using church space. Security guards were hired to monitor entrances and hallways. Pastors would lock doors and place bars over entrances to keep Emmaus folks separated from the other church folks. In conversation with one of the youth, she confessed, “This church taught me to fear the homeless.” My friend, Old-Timer, was arrested for trespassing on church property because our church hadn’t signed a county waiver for police not to arrest folks. He was wounded – asking me a week later how his church could do this to him. Another friend (Luke) – on cold winter night – froze to death while sitting on the stairs of a church several blocks away.
I constantly struggled. Every single one of the above “happenings” required a conversation with the Senior Pastor and other pastoral staff. I was so tired – physically exhausted for having to pastor a homeless community (and all the various needs that come with it) and act as a model and prophet for other White Christians who learned to fear the poor.
Change was so slow – too slow. I wrestled with the patience it takes to exact transformation. I seemed to have infinite patience for those I ministered to – the ones who joined us on Sunday nights for a meal and liturgy. But, my patience was so thin for life-long Christians who couldn’t overcome their blindness. Anger is my base emotion – and I stewed in it with righteousness. Because of course, the over 3000 scriptural references to justice and treatment of the poor/outcasts/strangers/widows in scripture were on my side.
I think several things helped me during this time. And I’ve learned several things that I wish I had known during that time.
First, I was alone. I had a team of volunteers, but mostly, I administered/organized the liturgy/meal, and pastored throughout the week. I didn’t work on a team – I was by myself. This should never be.
Second, I did have support from the Senior Pastor. He took a long view of change and reminded me of the small transformations that were already taking place.
Third, passion goes a long way, and I was filled with it.
Fourth, I felt like was truly faithful to the call of discipleship – to be in solidarity with the poor.
I wish I had exercised every day. Seriously, nothing resets my mind, my emotions, my body like exercise. If I’m not surfing, hiking, swimming, or running 5 days a week, I’m mopey and tired. I need to move and I need to be outside.
I actually keep a list of things on my fridge. It’s a list of when I feel anxiety rise up within me (which is usually felt in a few ways: can’t sleep, shoulder/neck pain, and quickened heart rate). The list is as follows:
Play ping pong with a friend
See a movie
Read Theology
Connect with my spouse
Exercise
Call a friend
Journal
Meditate with Singing Bowl
These are my practices for dealing with the tension.
3 comments
Thank you so much for this sharing this and the challenges you faced. The honesty is refreshing. I noticed the phrase, “I was alone.” This caught my attention. You say, “This should never be…” and I agree and also it is difficult to change this at times.
I do hope you have support and encouragement in your current phase of life. I love the list you have on the fridge… such variety! I hope you can enter into some of these even this week… Thank you again for this post!
Thank you for this wonderful sharing. Sadly, I can also relate, as my small town, small white Lutheran congregation in rural Wisconsin wasn’t at all interested in ministering to the community that was right there. “ let them come to us, we shouldn’t have to go help out at the schools.”…. so very disheartening. I appreciate that you wrote specifically what behaviors kept you going, the things you need to keep practicing. I do the same. Thank you so much.❤️
“I wrestled with the patience it takes to exact transformation. I seemed to have infinite patience for those I ministered to – the ones who joined us on Sunday nights for a meal and liturgy. But, my patience was so thin for life-long Christians who couldn’t overcome their blindness.” My my. I resonate with this deeply! This is the kind of living that requires so much longsuffering, and it is hard. I love the ideas that you put on your fridge, as a kind of way to draw you back to yourself and to pull yourself out of discouragement. Thank you for sharing. I wanted to ask when you look back on those conversations with the senior pastor and other pastors, did you begin to see glimpses of hearts changing? seeing little glimpses can help us stay motivated and hopeful, so I hope you did, but if you didn’t, I wonder what that was like.