One More Time: Our Protesters

By Michael Usey

If you haven’t yet read the excellent commentaries on the protesters outside our buildings Sunday morning August 23, I recommend you read the ones by Hayley Turner, Joel Rieves, and Sean Olson (which was a letter to the editor, printed in full in the News & Record on Saturday, August 29). Hayley’s in particular is significant: here is a young woman, having grown up in our church, walking to worship as a college sophomore, being called a whore by the protesters, and yet going on to write a thoughtful and beautiful reflection on following Jesus. I couldn’t be more proud of our little Jezebel.

I wanted to be with my friends at College Park last Sunday, but I was with my daughter Hannah for a soccer tournament in Asheville (the days for these rare father/daughter trips are truly numbered). Plus, I thought if there were any Sunday that a preacher might become a target at CP, it would be this one. So I bravely volunteered Lin to preach.

In all seriousness, we do have safe church protocols in place for both worship services, beginning with (but not limited to) our two retired Greensboro police captains (Bill and Matt) at the front doors and our two Greensboro fire captains (Ed and Sterling) within most services. Bill and others have been to training on church safety and violence prevention, and are implementing various recommendations. The diaconate will consider a protest protocol at a future meeting. Much like our Safe Children protocols, our worship services are as safe as we can make them—at least from outside crazies, not from the worship of the Living God.

Relatedly, two Greensboro police officers showed up at 11:00 to monitor the protests on our sidewalk. They were professional and calming, and I wrote the police chief on Monday morning to commend them. They were the very last to leave the premises with me last Sunday at 1:00, staying until the protesters got in their car, which was parked in the UNCG lot. And the police spoke with the counter protester too.

It all began in between services that morning, when Lisa Shortt found me at the promotion breakfast to let me know we had protestors outside. I didn’t believe her at first; I’m sure you know we have an odd and ironic sense of humor at College Park. Plus, Lisa was smiling when she told me; I love that our many lawyers at our church are so unafraid of conflict.

I told Lin (who was leading the promotion program) what was happening outside, and then found Matt Cravey, offering, “Let’s go get our picture taken with the protestors.” I had spoken to, and had my picture taken with, Westboro Baptist church protesters years before with Matt and Daniel Ingram, when WBC was in Greensboro to protest the “liberal” Southern Baptist Convention meeting here. This morning I went up the back stairs, and sure enough we had three protestors: the father, the son, and the holy videographer. I went out to meet them.

As I walked out, they started calling me Spawn of Satan, false teacher, heathen prophet, Father of lies, and other old fashion evil-ish names. I told them, “Well, that isn’t going to shock anyone.” (Actually, I found myself wishing a colleague of mine were there as well, whose nickname among friends is Spawn). It’s curious to me that men like this try so hard to verbally assault ministers in this manner. They must have a very different idea of holiness than we do. St. Paul himself said he was the worst of sinners (1 Tim 1.15), and this awareness of one’s own darkness is a crucial aspect of following Jesus. So I stood there unfazed while they went on yelling KJV-sounding names, wondering, do they honestly think this is offensive to me? Do they think this is news to my congregation that I’m sinner?

I offered my hand as I introduced myself. The protester recoiled and refused to shake it, saying he thought I probably [committed a sexual act] with that hand.

The main guy was yelling right at me, standing a foot from my face, while his colleague videoed this precious moment. His bombast and nearness was disconcerting because it was so relentless. He was hoarsely screaming, you need to repent of this and that (he had clearly read our website); it was a long list. I said conversationally, “Well, you’ve got that right. That’s what we’re getting ready to do in worship–repent.” This infuriated all three, as they all started screaming in earnest. I listened for a couple of minutes, and finally said, “Well, you’re welcome to join us for worship if you come in the right spirit.” Cue a new wave of outrage.

I passed Alison Schwartz going out to them. As she was bringing cold water bottles to them, and later food, she sweetly asked one of the men, “So is he your partner?” That went over well. Juanita Lojko, with her winsome smile and Southern grace, even got the 10-year-old boy to shake her hand, a small success. (Who can resist her charisma and charm?) Walter Pickard was escorting people past them to ensure no one felt intimidated to walk, and Bill and Matt were overseeing the mini-circus.

The police arrived, and I met with them briefly. We knew that the protesters were in their second amendment rights to yell and carry rude signs on the sidewalk—as long they didn’t use a bullhorn or disrupt our service. Honestly, I love this about America. Free speech—even hate speech— should be vigorously protected—even, and maybe especially, when it is unpleasant and hurtful. It is so rare around the world, even today. And the police were deescalating the moment by their presence. By the way, Walter remained by the side door the entire morning, making sure people could enter safely. I love this church.

The worship leaders met in my office as we do each week to pray before the later service. One of us was clearly shaken-up, and, after I prayed, Lin asked if I’d open worship with the same prayer, which I did. Immediately following that opening prayer, I circled back around outside to check on the front of the building. A dozen UNCG freshmen had walked up to our church and the protesters were preaching loudly to them, and the main guy resumed calling me names when I appeared. “You’re welcome to come to worship,” I said to the students, then, turning to the protesters, “You are too, if you behave.” The students looked taken aback, and, sadly, he succeeded in dissuading 10 of them not to enter our church. This was among the saddest consequences of their presence that Sunday morning. However, two black students walked right past the protestors, and entered anyway; I heard one them say, “This isn’t the first time I’ve been yelled at by protesters.” Those two worshipped with us that morning, while the other ten left—which sounds like the end to a Jesus story.

We were considering 2 Cor 4 that morning, and my sermon, prepared without knowledge that these protestors would be yelling as I spoke, underscored the reality of what I was asserting. [The following paragraphs are an excerpt from last Sunday’s sermon, which were be strangely apt.]

Then a word of hope for those who have that world is too much with us: We are afflicted in every way, but not crushed; perplexed, but not driven to despair; persecuted, but not forsaken; struck down, but not destroyed; always carrying in the body the death of Jesus, so that the life of Jesus may also be made visible in our bodies. A reminder that God will with us no matter happens, or what our limitations are—and with God we will make it.

I’m in no way suggesting this describes us physically. ISIS is beheading Christians in the Middle East, not here. The Christian faith is illegal still in many parts of the world, Christian worship banned, and Christian churches forbidden. There are persecuted Christians worldwide, and many of us remember them in our prayers. But we are definitely perplexed, amiright? And we have questions: What’s going on around us? How exactly do we follow Christ? Why are we who love God not a more powerfully a force for good in this lovely, broken world?

Some vocal super-conservative brothers and sisters feel like they are they actually persecuted here in North America, but this is a fiction. You are not persecuted just because you cannot force others to believe what you believe. Yet the intolerance of extreme right wing Christians against the poor, against LGBT persons, against immigrants, against women, against public education has nearly destroyed the Christian brand. Speak to any non-Christian person and ask them their opinion of Christians, and way, way too many will describe us as people are the very antithesis of all Christ lived, taught, and died for.

It is in this very real sense that this Pauline passage applies to us. And I promise that if any of us here dare to live as outrageously as Jesus did, the world will not praise us until we are dead. Tell anyone that you believe in the weirdest stuff imaginable—that Xenu the Galactic dictator unleashed billions of thetan souls on earth, or that you believe in Tarot cards, crystals, or astrology—and they may not bat any eye; but say you are trying to follow Jesus, and they might slowly back away while holding tightly onto their wallets. [End of sermon quote]

At the end of our service I reminded us of three things. First, that this was a demonstration of an amazing right in America, free speech, and we should value it even when it is hatred focused on us. It’s easy to value free speech in the midst of harmony. Yet it proves itself to be genuinely free only in vitriolic disharmony, and even in the face of hatred. Secondly, I reminded us all of Paul’s words in Romans 12.14: “Bless those who curse you; bless and curse not.” I recommended that, if they exited by the protestors, they should merely say, “God bless you.”

Lastly, I suggested that this was an excellent moment to speak with our children about how we follow Jesus, why we accept all people, and to acknowledge what work was left to be done. I know some of our children were confused, and a couple upset when they understood the hostility expressed. Yet it was a key teachable moment about our faith. If you haven’t yet set down and discussed this incident and how Christians are challenged by Christ to respond to it, please do. Being honest with our kids about how we are committed to taking Jesus’ hardest saying, “Love your enemies” seriously, even though it is extremely difficult sometimes—even for adults—should be a lifelong conversation we have with our young.

Relatedly, I know that many of you were concerned that the protesters had a 10-year-old boy with them and were obviously nurturing him to hate. This bothered me to no end, until our own Dr. Melissa Floyd-Pickard offered the following. She said (based on sociological research) that some children raised in settings where they were taught to hate instead grow up to become strong advocates for the very group they were taught to despise. In fact, she has colleagues in her department who defied expectations (one was raised among the Klan and yet is now a passionate advocate for those he’s been previously taught to reject). I hadn’t heard this, and it gave me comfort.

Afterwards, I realized too that this protest had dislodged the sense of safety that some of our LGBTQ members had in our worship and buildings. I don’t normally care for the language of privilege, but talk about heterosexual privilege: The whole incident was sad, but no more than a curiosity to me. Yet it had clearly shaken some of our gay brothers and sisters, perhaps because it echoed the deep shaming many had received in religious contexts earlier in their lives. But the protesters’ nefarious plans to disrupt holy worship here had not succeeded; Keith Menhinick, for example, was on fire with the gospel-spirit as he led in worship. God’s wild spirit burned in his voice and his presence, and we all felt it.

One of our newer members sidled up to me afterwards and said, “Well, ah, I’m kind of new to church thing, and I think I need more of this Jesusy spirit, because I was angry and let them know.” I told him this was perfectly fine, because that Jesus fellow was furious too when people try to exclude others from God’s love. And I heard (but did not see) that another one had said to the lead protestor, after the protestor had called his wife a whore as she was walking into worship, “ If you put one foot on our grass, I’m going to kick your sorry [backside] all up and down Aycock Street.” Which made him a hero to not a few. And, really, what kind of Christian calls any woman such a name? They particularly targeted women, calling daughters, mothers, girlfriends, and wives “whores,” Jezebel, and the like, which was extremely unpopular both with them and with the men related to those women. The protesters were lucky to escape with their teeth intact. This cements my firm belief that, at its core, the anti-gay movement in America is deeply misogynistic.

On a positive note, I heard support from ministers from all over in the hours following. Rabbi Fred Guttman said he’d have come to worship had he known. The Revs. Julie Peeples and Paul Davis left me genuine but funny notes of concern (Julie claimed that the protesters would have come to her church, CUCC, had they been able to figure out how to enter their confusing parking lot). Dr. Ed Sunday-Winters from Alabama, Dr. Jeff Paschal from Guilford Park Presbo, the Rev. Kim Priddy from FBCG, the Rev. Monica Citty-Hix, Dr. Jim Luck, and lay leaders from First Lutheran, Westminster, and Beth David and many, many other wrote me and the church in support. I even received a thoughtful note from former members Eric and Brandy’s new church in Juneau, Alaska, Northern Light United Church, and their pastor, Dr. Phil Campbell. He wrote a sweet to note to say they had prayed for us in their morning worship. He said, “Although we are saddened that you have been subject to a hateful protest, we are grateful for the reason for it – your proclamation of inclusive love in Greensboro! Please know that your sisters and brothers in faith from the opposite corner of the country stand with you in solidarity and in thanksgiving for your witness.” These and all the words from friends near and far were pure grace.

I also heard from pretty much every College Parker who was sad that they had chosen this particular Sunday to miss worship. See, you never know what you’ll miss each and every Sunday at College Park.

Once again I am proud to be a part of College Park Church. Who would have ever thought welcoming everyone to worship and serve God would be considered so radical? You were simply amazing last Sunday: blessing those who cursed you, bringing them food and water, inviting them in, being angry, but yet not acting on it. Should we be targeted again, I know we will do the same.

Michael