Consider This from NPR - A pastor's sermons on social justice causes conflict among congregation

Episode Date: January 31, 2025

Schools, corporations, even churches, are wrestling with how to approach issues of racial and social justice in a highly polarized U.S. But what happens when people with shared political views disagree on how much is too much? For sponsor-free episodes of Consider This, sign up for Consider This+ via Apple Podcasts or at plus.npr.org. Email us at [e-mail] more about sponsor message choices: podcastchoices.com/adchoicesNPR Privacy Policy

In the name of our God, I ask you to have mercy upon the people in our country. We're scared now. There are gay, lesbian, and transgender children in democratic, republican, and independent families, some who fear for their lives. That's Episcopal Bishop Mary Ann Buddee giving a sermon at Washington National Cathedral earlier this month. This was at an interfaith service held the day

after the second inauguration of President Donald Trump. In her sermon, she spoke directly to the president who was seated up front with Vice President J.D. Vance and their families. Bishop Buddee went on to talk about immigrants who may be at risk of deportation under new Trump policies. I ask you to have mercy, Mr. President, on those in our communities whose children fear that their parents will be taken away.

Reactions to her sermon lit up social media and national news outlets. The backlash from Trump supporters was immediate and intense. Lorenzo Sewell is the pastor of Detroit's non-denominational 180 Church, and he spoke at the Republican National Convention. He attended that sermon and shared his outrage on Fox News. I could not believe that she would use that moment to speak a demonic message as if she was using the Bible. She used her platform to practice theological malpractice. It was horrible. It was the worst message I've ever been in in my life.

Consider this. Across the country, people are wrestling with how to approach issues of racial and social justice in a polarized environment. And divisions aren't just between the political left and the political right. Even people with shared political views often disagree on how much is too much. Coming up, NPR's Frank Langford reports on a liberal church in North Carolina with a rich civil rights history, yet it pushed out its pastor, who had spent years promoting racial justice and who had repeatedly called out Donald Trump. From NPR, I'm Sasha Pfeiffer.

It's Consider This from NPR. Publicly, church leaders at the liberal-leaning Myers Park Baptist in Charlotte, North Carolina, say the recent move to oust their pastor had nothing to do with politics or his preaching, but some congregants feel betrayed. They say the conflict inside their church reflects a broader one within the American left. NPR's Frank Langford takes it from here.

Pastor Ben Boswell says he was determined for Myersyers Park Baptist Church to confront its whiteness, as he explained during an online anti-racism seminar he hosted several years ago. We have a wedding policy that has been described by our current chair of deacons as waspy. Our space as a church, very colonialist in style, and it needs some decolonization. We're going to be in a constant process of doing what I call a whiteness audit. Boswell says he ran into resistance from congregants who, for instance, told him to take down Black Lives Matter signs. Boswell persisted.

I like to joke churches have sacred cows. Sacred cows make the best hamburgers. Myers Park is a white liberal church in a neighborhood where mansions can sell for more than $4 million. After the November election, Boswell gave a sermon in which he likened this moment to what he called, the gathering dark of Hitler's rule. He referenced Christ's resurrection and urged congregants to maintain hope. Where do we go from here? We go back to the beginning. We do what our ancestors have done.

We get up and we walk toward the tomb because the fight's not over. It's just beginning. Amen. Provocative sermons were nothing new for Boswell, who'd been at the church for nine years. But a few weeks later, the church's board of deacons, its governing body, met on Zoom. They voted 17 to 3 to ask Boswell to step down.

NPR obtained the audio. It provides a rare window into the thinking of an organization when the tone of its social or political messaging clashes with its business model. Marcy McClanahan was head of the board. In the meeting, the first reason she cited for Boswell to leave was plunging attendance. We have gone from approximately 350 members attending on average each week at service in 2016 when Ben arrived, to approximately 150 members attending on average each week in 2024.

Fellow Deacon Robert Doolin was more direct. We gotta put more butts in the seats. Butts in the seats, butts in the seats. Everything else is just jaw-flapping. In an email to NPR, Doolin said he personally loved what he calls Boswell's powerful prophetic preaching. The problem, he says, is that it had worn thin with others. Here's how Doolin put it in the meeting. A lot of these people left the church a few years ago,

in the last few years. If any of you talk to them, you heard the same thing over and over again. I'm tired of being indicted because I'm white. I'm tired of being banged over the head every week about immigrants and LGBTQ. And I just want to come to church and be encouraged. As people left, their contributions left with them. Since 2020, the church's budget has shrunk by nearly a quarter.

Doolin says it's been one financial fire drill after another. Ben needs to leave in order for our church to take a different direction and grow because we are dying on the vine. Good morning. We are glad that you are here with us. Myers Park Baptist is a cavernous red brick church with a big white steeple and it wears

its progressive politics really right on the front of the church. You've got a giant sign here that says 80 years of inclusivity, community, spirituality and justice. And on the other side, open to all, now and forever more. In the meeting, Deacon Allen Davis warned that getting rid of Boswell would undermine that very message. It will be very difficult for us to continue to tell the narrative that we are this inclusive, open to all, one welcoming, growing community, when what will come out is that we've snatched the keys from the 10-year minister who had been pushing us

to confront whiteness, to challenge racial justice in our community. Davis was among three deacons who resigned in protest. In an interview, McClanahan called Boswell a fantastic and visionary preacher, and she insisted the church would continue to advance racial and social justice. But some of Boswell's supporters say

the conflict at Myers Park is part of a much larger one. This is just a continuation of the issues we saw throughout the disagreements in the Democratic Party writ large. Nicholas Ryan has attended Myers Park since preschool. He's now 30. There's a group of us who are younger and more passionate and maybe a tad more progressive who are fed up with just being told to wait, don't worry. After services in December, the church leadership met with the congregation behind closed doors to discuss Boswell's departure. The leadership met with the congregation behind closed doors to discuss Boswell's departure. Afterwards, many parishioners were eager to talk. My name is Bruce Griffin. I'm a warehouse worker in Charlotte.

Griffin wore a San Francisco 49ers jacket. He said Boswell created a wonderful open community here. Now he's bitter. I feel the church betrayed me. I feel the church betrayed me. I feel the congregation betrayed me. Just today at this meeting some of the same people that I feel betrayed me came in and it was straight to business and there was no hugging. There was no no fellowship. I mentioned that some white congregants felt beaten down by

Boswell's continued emphasis on social and racial justice. As a black man our response said that I feel beaten down every day. Are you gonna stay here at the church? I will not. While Griffin was talking about leaving Myers Park, Elizabeth Peterson was returning for the first time in years. Reverend Boswell has divided the church

rather than unifying the church. Peterson says that for a long time, Myers Park seemed more focused on people of color and LGBTQ folks. I wished that he could have brought his energy for diversity and for change of the culture of the church and included us to come with him. When you say us, who's us?

People of my age. I'm over 65. Definitely not wealthy. But do you think you'll come back to the church now? I think I might, yes. I think I will. Pastor Ben Boswell has heard these sorts of things before. When you've been the dominant culture for so long, the focus and attention on anyone

who's been marginalized feels like a slight against you. He says the conflict at Myers Park is part of a much bigger national trend to roll back things like diversity, equity, and inclusion programs. We just happen to be in a moment now in American history where that work is coming with a cost and people are getting tired and backing away from it. But church leaders say their concerns extended to Boswell's management. Others say he focused too much on social justice and not enough on tending the flock,

one of the church's strategic goals. Bob Thomason is a former chairman of the Board of Deacons. He said he was speaking as a longtime member with a perspective on how the church had fared under Boswell. Most of us, all of us, are very supportive of social justice, but for some people, being able to focus on social justice, it would be a welcome luxury because they have alcoholic spouses, they have children that are addicted, they have cancer, they have these personal needs, and that gets to the other part of the strategic plan, which was caring for the internal community.

The pastoral part of the jar. Pastoral part. Not so great there. We were basically taking care of ourselves as best we could. Boswell says he was committed to pastoral care and devoted a staffer to it full-time. Boswell knows that some people think he made a mistake by focusing so much on racial and social justice. But he says he'd do it again, and will continue to preach that message, whatever he does next.

NPR's Frank Lankfit reporting from Charlotte, North Carolina. This episode was produced by Elena Burnett and was edited by Catherine Laidlaw and Jeanette Woods. Our executive producer is Sammy Yenigan. It's Consider This from NPR. I'm Sasha Fiverr.