A Matter of Faith: Three Approaches to Religion

We haven’t spent much time writing about it yet, but as will become evident as this blog continues and in our memoir, all three of us take matters of religion and faith quite seriously.  Though we grew up in traditional, all-black, Protestant (Baptist and Methodist) churches, each of us has taken a spiritual journey that puts us in a different place from where we began all those years ago. With this piece, we start periodic exploration of our journeys in an effort to convey the faith experiences that have taken us to the spiritual spots in which we now reside.

Who we worship with represents one issue we think many may find interesting, given where we started. The issue isn’t insignificant. One of us views the ethnic and racial composition of a congregation as a defining factor in the substance of his faith.  Another of us finds himself torn between an ideal and the practical when it comes to the need for and function of congregations composed of certain kinds of people.  Finally, one of us puts his focus on the theology of his places of worship, sacrificing undoubtedly desirable demographic characteristics for theological purity. None of these approaches is necessarily “right” or “wrong.”  They are just “different” and explain an important component of our religious and spiritual existence.

Woodson’s Mosaic Woodson attends and participates actively in a multi-ethic, multi-cultural, socio-economically diverse church.  Mosaic of Little Rock operates from a decidedly Christian perspective and its members, by and large, strongly profess a belief in redemption and salvation through Jesus Christ as personal lord and savior.  They present varying denominational histories and, most important, arrive at the church from a potpourri of racial and ethnic backgrounds, widely varying economic and social strata, and lacking the homogeneity typically associated with churches in the United States.  If 11 a.m. Sunday remains, as Martin Luther King once said, the most segregated hour in America, Mosaic’s members opted out of that circumstance some time ago.  

Mosaic’s big tent character, for Woodson, includes a substantive theological component.  He says, “Worshiping in a multi-ethnic church demonstrates our commitment as co-laborers with God in bringing the Peace of heaven to earth.” He adds, “If the Kingdom of Heaven is not segregated, then why should the local church on earth be? Failure to overcome racial division within the church makes us less credible witnesses to the faith.” He roots in scripture his view that worshiping in a diverse church means something real spiritually. He cites John 17:21-22, quoting Jesus speaking to God: “That all may be one; as thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they also may be one in us: that the world may believe that thou hast sent me. [22] And the glory which thou gavest me I have given them: that they may be one, even as we are one.”   An adherent of the multi-ethnic church sees joining together different kinds of people in worship as a way of bringing people together spiritually, economically, and politically and, therefore, to bring God to all people.

That Old Time Religion Mosaic, and fast growing churches like it (many Christian denominations stagnate or shrink now), may represent a new ideal that connects different cultures. Henry, however, still sees a need for “a place that offers rest for the weary.” Despite his hope and wish that congregations “care not at all about skin colors or the diverse cultures within,” a need remains for churches that primarily serve the spiritual and practical needs of particular ethnic populations. Given what he calls “cultural reality,” he acknowledges settling for a place called “the black church,” despite his desire for a different world. In other words, the practicalities of race and racism demand the continuing existence of places that primarily serve the needs of a historically disenfranchised group. These churches, for example, help preserve a history too often overlooked.

Henry prefers “to express my love in a place where diversity reigns and understanding abounds.”  But, he knows, the realities of America, even in 2017, do not always make that possible. Ministries that focus on the black community remain essential to the spiritual needs of many black people.  Community service that black churches render represents a significant part of the continuing need for such places.  So, Henry attends Alfred Street Baptist Church in Alexandria, Virginia, an iconic black church that traces its history to 1803. According to Henry, it serves a need and that’s just a fact.

Purity   Rob, for the majority of his adult life, has attended Unitarian Universalist Churches.  He’s been a member at Northwoods UU in The Woodlands, Texas since 1991. In the last few years, as his interest in and affinity for progressive Christianity deepened and expanded, he has sometimes attended United Church of Christ (UCC) churches.  These UU and UCC churches are overwhelmingly white, raising the issue of how much it matters what one’s fellow travelers should look like. Theology, not demographics, determines his answer.  That theology makes God as an all-encompassing concept with no all-powerful deity ruling the world and envisions Jesus not as savior but as a human, historical figure who walked the earth for an all-too-brief period teaching timeless lessons that remain models for living.        

Having attended Mosaic with Woodson, Rob finds that church’s diversity amazing, almost seductive.  Mosaic “looks like America,” to quote a former President. He admires the ministerial outreach and commitment to social justice at Alfred Street that Henry reports.  But, he knows, he could never attend either on a regular basis because the theology doesn’t match. The theology at his UU and UCC churches defines church for him. Nothing about the color of the people in the pews changes that.

So, there are three ways of looking at this. How do you look at it?