Not My Pastor!!!

I used to go to this greasy diner that, from its appearance, looked like no place you would ever think to eat. Truck exhaust from the outside and grease from the inside clouded the windows so that you couldn't tell if it was open unless you tried the door, three of twelve counter stools were missing... actually, the cushions were missing, but the poles were still there, and Luedean, the waitress, had a gold tooth and wore coffee pot earrings.


The diner was no showplace, but the food was terrific and there was always a performance. Wayne, the local dope fiend, could usually be found in a nod on the sidewalk outside. If you've never seen a junkie in a nod, trust me when I say it can be as exciting as an aerialist act. Wayne would be walking down the street, come to a stop and go to sleep, in a squat or standing. Sometimes he would lean so far he'd be damn-near doubled over, but would never fall. It was no less a balancing act than someone riding a bicycle on a tight rope.


Sometimes the performance could be as simple as someone sitting in a corner, talking to themselves or as complex as a private marital issue played out in a public venue. A woman once walked in and strolled up to the booth, where her husband was having an early supper with his girlfriend. Without uttering one word, she stabbed her husband with a fork and slapped his mistress upside the head with a dinner plate in one fluid movement. One Saturday I watched a quiet disagreement between two sisters escalate into a slapfest. I can still hear the exchange that started the whole thing.

Hattie Ruth: I ran into Reverend Jones yesterday and he was so nasty.

Johnnie Mae: What you talkin' 'bout?

Hattie Ruth: I spoke to him at the grocery store yesterday and he looked at me like I was crazy.

Johnnie Mae: What? No... no... not my pastor. You must be mistaken.

Hattie Ruth: No, girl it was him and it's not the first time. He's just nasty like that.

From there, things escalated pretty quickly as Hattie Ruth went on to describe other occasions where Rev. Jones was not so nice and Johnnie Mae continued to defend her pastor against the allegations. The last thing I remember hearing...

Johnnie Mae: Bitch, don't make me snatch you up across this table.

I wasn't one of the people who pulled Johnnie Mae off Hattie Ruth. I had the good sense to move when I heard where the conversation appeared to be going. She was led past me in handcuffs, still repeating "Not my pastor." The last thing I heard as the greasy glass door slammed was, "You don't speak ill about the man of God."

After the past several days, I'm feeling a little like Johnnie Mae as my former pastor has been dissected and labeled everything from crazy to evil. There are a few folks I would like to slap upside the head right about now.

In 2001 I had the opportunity to live in the great American mid-western city of Chicago. I'd visited the city twice for our annual family reunion, but had never spent more than a weekend. I was looking forward to the extended visit as an opportunity to see if it was the city in which I wanted to settle. My best friend, Crofton, opened his home to me and I moved in for the adventure.

I found life in Chicago, not very far removed from other places I had lived or visited, except in one area... the churches. It probably has no more than other cities, but the thing that sets Chicago churches apart is that even the smallest church has a BANGIN music ministry. I've been listening to gospel music since I was old enough to put the needle on the record. Our house was filled with the sounds of Mahalia Jackson, Shirley Caesar, Dorothy Norwood and James Cleveland, each of whom had some connection with the Chicago gospel music scene. Mahalia Jackson began her career performing in Chicago churches and Caesar, Norwood and Cleveland each owe their careers to Chicago native, Albertina Walker. Walker's group, The Caravans is responsible for launching a number of careers. I knew that I was in store for a treat regardless of which church I chose to attend.

I chose Trinity United Church of Christ, but not for the music. I don't mean to imply that the music was not compelling. Trinity's massive Sanctuary Choir, under the direction of the late Donald Young was amazing and brought me to my feet on numerous occasions, but it was Pastor Jeremiah A. Wright's sermons that influenced the decision to make Trinity my church home. He helped me look intelligently at God and faith. He encouraged me to look beyond that which was in front of me to see the larger picture. He destroyed forever the idea of a white, blonde, blue-eyed Jesus and painted a picture of early Christianity with characters that looked like me. For that alone I am eternally grateful.

Pastor Wright did not denounce or instruct me to dislike white people. In fact, before coming to Trinity I had never worshipped with so many people of other races and ethnicities. He did instruct me not to confuse God with government-- to recognize that some of the most heinous atrocities committed in this country were carried out by the government in the name of God. Even slavery was a blessed institution. At Trinity I was forced to look beneath the surface of everything that I had been taught, to recognize certain truths... Thomas Jefferson was a pedophile who raped a child, the half-sister of his own wife. The man who drafted the Declaration of Independence was a predator, whose picture would be appearing on a different kind of paper if he was alive today. And still we sing God Bless America. Yeah.

I appreciate Barack Obama for the way in which he chooses to respond to his church affiliation and the words of his former pastor. As for me... I stand behind and believe everything my former pastor has said. I believe his words to be based in reality and steeped in truth... for me! I am a Black man, living in an overall hostile environment that includes me on paper, but not in spirit. I have experienced inhumane treatment that someone like Tucker Carlson would probably say doesn't exist. Anyway... Tucker Carlson can kiss my black ass!

Barack Obama is still my candidate. I believe in his ability to lead the country to peace and prosperity. Jeremiah Wright's teachings still guide me. I believe in their ability to lead my soul to salvation. All these things will work together for my good.