Requiem to a Baptist

A local Southern Baptist Church voted two weeks ago to close its doors and   it has affected me more deeply than I first realized.

I grew up in a Southern Baptist family and a Southern Baptist Church.  You would have to be a Baptist or in a denomination like it to understand that to be Southern Baptist isn't just your religious affiliation, it's your entire identity.  In Alabama people joke that you are born either an Auburn fan or an Alabama fan and that you will remain that way for life. But it's really not a joke if you grew up there.  But the SBC in Alabama is even a stronger bond than the SEC.

My immediate family was Southern Baptist and so was my extended family. All of my aunts, uncles and cousins were members of either the Hillcrest Baptist Church, my church, or the First Baptist Church of Enterprise, Alabama. Most of our friends were members of Hillcrest and nearly all of our friends were Southern Baptists.  I was taught, not in any formal way, that if God wanted to do something in the world He would first ask a Southern Baptist. If none were available then he could use a Methodist.  In a pinch a Presbyterian or Lutheran.  But seldom an Episcopalian (they "drink") and never a Roman Catholic (they worship Mary).The SBC, the Southern Baptist Convention, was formed in 1845. The convention has a long history of swinging left and right on Biblical and social issues. The convention took a hard right turn in the 1980s and has been a "conservative" institution ever since. Some would call it a "fundamentalist" institution.

But being a Baptist hasn't always been like that. The SBC supported world-renowned institutions of higher learning including my alma maters of Samford University and the Southern Baptist Theological Seminary. I can't begin to recall and recount what I saw, heard, studied, practiced and learned in my three years at Samford and my two years at "Southern." I studied under some of the best minds and musicians on the planet. It put the "liberal" in "liberal education."  The music school of "Southern" was not only one of the best music schools in the SBC, but was regarded as one of the best music schools in the country. It was not a Julliard or Eastman, but it was outstanding. After the performance of Messiah with the Louisville Symphony Orchestra in December of 1978, for example, the critics raved. Some said it was the best Messiah chorus they had ever heard.  I should know. I was standing there. To earn a master or doctorate of music at "Southern" was quite an accomplishment.

And besides these institutions the SBC supported two assemblies, the Glorieta Baptist Assembly and Ridgecrest Baptist Assembly. The lives of children, youth and adults were touched and changed during week long camps at both of these locations. The classes, the dramatic performances and services of worship were incredible. And these people were Southern Baptists!

I'm saying that back then to be a Southern Baptist was a very good thing.  It's good to remember.

There had always been the "conservative-fundamentalist" element in the SBC, but in the late 1970s through the 1980s there was a prolonged and intentional "takeover" of the SBC by the fundamentalists. The convention that I knew and loved was ripped to shreds. The Southern Baptist Theological Seminary has now become a Calvinist Bible college.  It is a shell of the school where I attended and earned my degree. Several years ago the school completely did away with its school of music. I now never put in print that I graduated there.  I refer to "graduate school" instead of seminary for fear that people will think that my school was that school.

When I graduated from "Southern" in 1979 I became the Minister of Music and Youth at the First Baptist Church of Rossville, Georgia. It was a thriving congregation with a thriving music program. That program included a graded choir program of prechoolers, two elementary school choirs, a fabulous traveling youth choir of nearly 30 voices, a handbell choir and a college ensemble. When I left there four years later that program was still in full swing.

Over the ensuing years I  enjoyed another Baptist affiliation, but have claimed the United Methodist Church as my church home for many years. Although my entire identity is not "United Methodist" and I'm not as active as I used to be,  this affiliation is an important part of my life.

Two weeks ago after a steady decline of membership and resources the congregation of the First Baptist Church of Rossville, Georgia had little choice but to close the church. I was sad for those people it affected, but thought that it had little to do with me at this point in my life. Apparently, my emotional system thought otherwise.

Yesterday I  was listening to deep and poignant music by Stephen Paulus.  I was introduced to his music in 2004 when I took a group of chorus students from the Lakeview-Ft.Oglethorpe High School in Ft. Oglethorpe, Georgia to a workshop at Shorter College in Rome. Although it is not pertinent to this story, Shorter is affiliated with the Georgia Baptist Convention. What is pertinent is that the music of Stephen Paulus has become an important part of my music listening and personal devotional life. Shorter College introduced  me to his Pilgrims' Hymn and Spotify introduced me this weekend to his To Be Certain of the Dawn. Paulus composed this work to commemorate the 60th anniversary of the last Jews freed from the death camps in Germany. No music since Leonard Bernstein's Mass or Durufle's Requiem has affected me so deeply. But as I listened this weekend I thought, "What are you feeling? What are you grieving? You're acting like somebody died."

Well, something  did die. Something that was very important to me died.  Something that I invested much of my life in died. A part of my childhood died. What did it mean? Did any of it really matter? What difference did it make?"

"Hymn to the Eternal Flame" from To Be Certain of the Dawn by Stephen Paulus

"'Ev'ry face is in you, ev'ry voice, ev'ry sorrow in you, ev'ry pity, ev'ry love, ev'ry memory, woven into fire. Ev're breath is in you, ev'ry cry, ev'ry longing in you, ev'ry singing, ev'ry hope, ev'ry healing, woven into fire. Ev'ry heart is in you, ev'ry tongue, ev'ry trembling in you, ev'ry blessing, ev'ry soul, ev'ry shining, woven into fire."

I have a friend who is an important leader with the CBF, the Cooperative Baptist Fellowship, a moderate Baptist organization that grew out of the "takeover."  I asked, "John, isn't it about time for the CBF to call itself something besides Baptist?"  He smiled and said, "Not yet."