Riverside's Black-White Divide
by
Thea A. Button and
Andrew Walsh
For almost a
century, Riverside Church on Manhattan’s Morning-side Heights has been
mainline Protestantism’s highest profile pulpit, and its pastors—celebrated
preachers like Harry Emerson Fosdick and William Sloane Coffin—shaped the
hearts and minds of an important slice of American Christianity. They led
the charge on the great 20th-century issues: against fundamentalism and war;
for civil rights and social justice.
James Forbes,
who held the job from 1989 until 2007, upheld Riverside’s tradition with an
eloquent, distinctly Southern, African-American style. But in spite of his
general commitment to liberal Protestantism, Forbes never had much to say
about the fight that has divided the mainline—at Riverside and around the
nation—most bitterly in recent decades: gay rights.
Coffin, his
predecessor, was a pioneer of the gay-friendly “Open and Affirming” movement
in the mainline churches, leading Riverside to become the first United
Church of Christ congregation to take that stand. (Riverside also belongs to
the American Baptist Church.) And over time, Forbes’s reticence became a
grievance, especially among the shrinking cadre of white members. After his
departure, their grumbling reached the pages of the New York Times
and other newspapers.
So it’s worth
noting that Forbes’ successor—a dynamic, young, scholarly African-American
preacher named Brad Ronnell Braxton—laid down a gauntlet dramatically at the
beginning of his ministry by reasserting the importance of Riverside’s open
and affirming stance.
On November 9,
in his second sermon as pastor, Braxton chose as his text a passage from the
Old Testament: Joel 2:28, in which God promised that “it shall come to pass
afterward that I will pour out my spirit upon all flesh.” In
Braxton’s reading, God told the prophet: “No one can control me, but
everyone can reach me.”
“Did you hear
God’s open and affirming language?” Braxton asked his congregation. “ALL
FLESH!” All flesh was everyone: old, young, men, women, “lesbians, gay men,
bisexuals, transgendered, queers and heterosexual people, ALL FLESH!”
Up until that
sermon, there hadn’t been much public acknowledgement of divisions over gay
rights at Riverside, a massive stone complex on Riverside Drive built by the
Rockefellers in the late 1920s to be American Protestantism’s premier
pulpit. In the late 20th century, Riverside strove to embody progressive
change rather than manifesting the Protestant Establishment, in order to be,
in the words of its mission statement: “interdenominational, interfaith, and
international.”
The church’s
second black senior minister, Braxton has a combination of skills and
background that might allow him to put forth ideas in a more palatable way
to a mostly minority congregation than Coffin had been able to do, and to
encourage discourse on uncomfortable issues more than Forbes was willing to
do.
Coffin decided
to force the issue of gay rights, even though there was substantial
resistance among black members of the church. He “felt there were limits to
what could be reconciled,” writes his biographer, Warren Goldstein.
“Finally, there were conflicts that could ‘only be decided by taking one
side or another. And homophobia is like racism. You cannot reconcile that.
You’ve got to come down on the right side. It’s the only way it’s going to
be solved.’”
In Goldstein’s
account, Coffin’s righteous stand failed to solve the issue, creating
instead a lasting, racialized division at the church.
“Although
Coffin won the immediate battle he lost the larger struggle to reunite
Riverside,” Goldstein judged. Many of the older, black congregants (in those
days, a substantial minority of the church’s congregation) were alienated by
Coffin’s strong stand, embodied in the church’s 1984 “Statement of Openness,
Inclusion, and Affirmation of Gay or Lesbian Persons.”
One clear
result was sustained tumult. Coffin had endured a rough ride at the church,
and so would Forbes. Writing on September 15, when Braxton’s selection as
senior minister was announced, Paul Vitello of the Times noted that
Forbes “drew criticism from congregants that he neglected Riverside’s
tradition of liberal Protestant activism while pouring his energies into
increasing black membership with a Southern style of preaching and worship.”
The piece
echoed complaints recorded as early as 1992, in a Times piece by Ari
Goldman headlined “Riverside’s Pastor at Center of Turmoil.” Riverside,
Goldman noted, was “sizzling with life and remarkably integrated,” but
internal critics “accuse Forbes of being authoritarian, aloof, too
spontaneous in his worship, and too much of a fundamentalist, especially in
his sermons. They say that under his leadership, more blacks have joined,
whites have left, collections have declined. His critics, both black and
white, insist that their criticism is not racially motivated.”
A group of
persistent critics, several of whom had held congregational offices, spent
much of Forbes’ tenure complaining. In 2006, the New York Post
reported that they had complained repeatedly to the Manhattan district
attorney about financial wrongdoing and sought—unsuccessfully—to get
external oversight of Riverside’s financial affairs.
Press coverage
has tended to reflect two publicly articulated causes of controversy, the
first being Forbes’ alleged abandonment of Riverside’s traditions of liberal
activism, and the second, his attempt to push Riverside toward the norms of
large African-American churches.
“Dr. Forbes
detractors,” Eric Konigsberg wrote in the June 10, 2007 Times,
“accuse him of softening Riverside’s political involvement and abandoning
his predecessor’s intellectual approach for something more evangelical. At
times he has shown a fondness of altar calls during services and his sermons
can be long and emotional.”
“The sermons
of the senior minister haven’t tended to address, to the extent of his
predecessors’, the burning national and international issues of the day,”
said Howard Geiger, a former church treasurer and one of the liberal
dissidents.
Forbes told
Konigsberg that his sermon style—recognized as among the nation’s most
powerful by publications ranging from Newsweek to Christianity
Today—“had its roots in the sermons of his father, a Pentecostal
minister in North Carolina,” and had “come as a shock to some Riverside
members. People thought they were getting Bible Belt values as well as my
Bible Belt style.”
A series of
Times reporters found similar concerns among white congregants during
2008. Russ Buetner reported on August 3 that some felt that Forbes “hadn’t
done enough to maintain the church’s tradition of advocating social justice
positions” and that “his style had increased the number of black congregants
and alienated some white members at a church that prides itself for its
racial diversity.”
But it’s hard
to take seriously complaints that Forbes failed to uphold the liberal
tradition at Riverside. A look through the index of Christian Century,
for example, shows that Forbes was a consistent voice for the poor, for AIDS
victims, for Nelson Mandela, for the Dalai Lama, for a long list of
Democratic presidents and presidential candidates (especially named
Clinton), for universal health care, and for beleaguered liberal
institutions like the National Council of Churches. He even led the charge
against Intelligent Design.
The Dallas
Morning News’ Jeffrey Weiss caught Forbes on one of his frequent
campaigns across the country, at the August 24, 2002 unveiling of the Texas
Freedom Network’s Fundamentalism Education Project in Dallas.
“I propose to
show that, out of love of all God’s children and in providential care for
the world, God is gathering an interfaith company of believers to proclaim a
theology of divine righteousness which demands justice, respect, tolerance,
compassion, inclusiveness, trust in the ultimate efficacy of divine zeal,
and the righteous pursuit of peace in the midst of competing interests and
faith claims through the power of God’s enabling grace,” Forbes preached in
impeccable ecumenicalese.
However, there
are some indications in the press of why Forbes’ message and style generated
confusion among white liberal Protestants. On December 17, 2004, for
example, USA Today printed a list of “10 great places to hear the
Christmas gospel” that had been originally developed by the evangelical
weekly Christianity Today’s online operation. Forbes’ Riverside
headed the list. In praising Forbes, USA Today noted that “the
American Baptist has appeared as one of President Bush’s chief clerical
critics, but don’t expect much that’s political on Christmas Eve.”
If charges of
disloyalty to the liberal creed are hard to credit, then race—and what might
be called the resulting circulation of elites—has clearly been an important
part of the struggle at Riverside. The Times’ Vitello reported on the
September meeting where Braxton was elected that “longtime members attribute
some of the situation to the changing racial makeup of the…congregation.” He
added that “some of the tensions are blamed on generational differences—an
older, white membership with emotional roots in the civil rights era, and a
younger contingent of middle-class black members who bring a less
politicized set of religious beliefs to Sunday services.”
When Braxton
appeared on WNYC radio’s Brian Lamb program on December 19, he defended
Forbes’ record, adding that whites would have to get used to a changed
reality of a black majority at Riverside.
Whereupon an
angry Riverside member (identified as “Amanda from New York”) shot back on
the program’s message board: “We joined the church BECAUSE it was diverse—in
every way—racially, socially, economically. But it has become clear to
longtime members that Dr. Braxton is continuing Dr. Forbes’ longtime goal of
moving the church toward being a traditional ‘black’ church (altar calls,
the move to eliminate traditional music program, etc.).”
“The real
disappointment is this—there are already many well-established and better
known black churches,” she lamented. “There are so FEW truly diverse
churches in New York City or anywhere else.”
Lamb dryly
observed during the Braxton interview that many whites still felt
uncomfortable about experiencing diversity when they were among the
minority, rather than as part of the majority they once took for granted.
And, indeed,
the last couple of decades at Riverside have challenged congregants who
valued the old mainline establishment model. Interestingly, as presented by
the Times over a series of articles, many of these criticisms came
from black members of the church whose involvement predated Forbes’ arrival.
Konigsberg,
for example, quoted the Rev. Robert Polk’s advice to Forbes upon the
latter’s arrival in 1989. Polk, a retired staff member who was the first
black appointed to Riverside’s ministerial staff in 1960, said, “I told him:
‘You could do one of two things. You can preserve the three
‘inters’—international, interdenominational, interracial—or you can forget
about that and make it all black.’ He did the second.”
But it is
clear that many other African Americans rejoice in the shifting balance of
power. Konigsberg closed his June 10 Times piece by quoting Princeton
theologian Cornel West, a speaker at the Riverside service honoring Forbes’
retirement, noting that West gave an “an impassioned tribute” to Forbes. “A
particularly loud burst of applause came when he declared, ‘The last 18
years have been a delicious experiment in contemporary American
Christianity.’”
While he
repeatedly asserted his commitment to diversity, Forbes agreed in his
interview with Konigsberg that the church had changed under his watch. “When
I came here, the ethnic breakdown was about 60 percent white, 40 percent
black,” Forbes told Konigsberg. “Shortly after my arrival, the incoming
membership classes would have a few more blacks than whites. Eventually it
was 50-50, then 60-40 blacks to whites. The last census was closer to 70-30
blacks to whites.”
However,
uniting people requires people to unite. One reason that blacks currently so
outnumber whites at Riverside is that whites in New York City are now simply
much less likely to attend church than was once the case.
The 1990
National Survey of Religious Identity showed, for example, that 89 percent
of New York City’s Baptists (Harry Emerson Fosdick’s denomination and John
D. Rockefeller, Jr.’s, too) identified themselves as black and only 4.1
percent as white. So, it is possible that Forbes did not drive out the white
congregants so much as fill the pews with one of the last groups to attend
Sunday services regularly, blacks.
And the
statistics tend to suggest that the Forbes years have been good ones at
Riverside. Coffin had rebuilt the church’s membership, which fell as low as
1,500 before he arrived in 1977. By the end of his term, total membership
had reached about 2,700, where it has remained pretty steadily.
Moreover,
under Forbes, Riverside’s finances recovered. The reported value of the
endowment fell as low as $65 million at the close of the Coffin years, but
had rebounded to about $160 million before last fall’s market collapse. (In
the early 1970s, the endowment was a very impressive $120 million.)
Braxton has
chosen to differentiate himself from Forbes by the volume of his support for
the full inclusion of gays in the church. The new minister followed up on
his October sermon, for example, by issuing a personal statement on November
19 lamenting the passage of Proposition 8 in California, which overturned
the California Supreme Court decision extending marital rights to
homosexuals.
Yet it would
be incorrect to understand Forbes as in any sense an opponent of gay rights.
To the contrary, during his pastorate at Riverside, the church began to
celebrate same-sex unions in 1991, put strong inclusive language in it
mission statement in 1992, and in 1997 adopted the Lamda Legal Defense funds
resolution on same gender civil marriage. He often took to the road to
support gay rights, including the right to civil marriage, speaking and
leading services at conferences and other events.
In 1996, for
example, he showed up for a conference on homophobia in minority communities
in Denver even though black church backlash had led the local pastor to
withdraw his offer to serve as host. The Denver Post reported on July
17, 1996 that the pastor’s letter of withdrawal described homosexuality as
“an abomination before the Lord.”
The Post
conveyed Forbes’ calm response: Many black denominations “are just starting
to address homosexuality openly. There are many white denominations with
deep discomfort in talking about gays…but black churches seem to have a
unique set of problems confronting the issue.”
When, in 2000,
the mostly black Eastern North Carolina Association of the UCC voted not to
accept an “open and affirming” startup congregation as a member, Forbes
indicated to National Public Radio’s “All Things Considered” that he
understood black church reluctance, although he disagreed with it. “I would
say that it is true that many times black people, who themselves have been
stigmatized…tend not to want the added burden of a position that might be
considered to be sinful.”
So the
grievance of white Riverside liberals—and perhaps much of the chest thumping
about the abandonment of Riverside’s social justice tradition—has to do with
little more than insufficient zeal for a social justice issue that they
cared particularly deeply about. What Forbes declined to do was shift into
rhetorical hyper-drive to criticize African Americans for failing to embrace
gay rights.
In that
hesitation, Forbes is certainly far from unique. Take Renita Weems, an
African Methodist Episcopal cleric and scholar who addressed black attitudes
towards gay marriage in her blog
www.somethingwithin.com November 20.
“There are
many who do not put the gay rights movement and the civil rights movement on
par with each other,” she wrote. “Why not? Because they don’t see gay rights
as a civil rights issue, perhaps? Because they see gay rights as a lifestyle
issue and not a human rights issue, perhaps? Because they think
homosexuality is a sin or just plain wrong, perhaps?”
In that forest
of perhapses, Weems argued in favor of civil unions for gay partnership, but
not marriage. She, like many black church leaders, was wrestling with press
coverage attributing the defeat of gay marriage in California to black
voters. A string of opinion pieces in mid-November argued as much, based on
exit polls showing black voters rejecting gay marriage at rates of about 70
percent, compared to bare majorities in other groups. (Subsequent polling
indicated that the number may actually have been less than 60 percent,
virtually identical to the rate among Latinos.)
At the present
time, Braxton, a full generation younger than Forbes, is willing to increase
the decibels on gay rights, although he had not yet named names. In his
November 19 statement, he quoted the church’s 2004 position on gay marriage
at length, and associated himself with it.
“In an attempt
to embrace all committed-relationships, the Church will take the bold action
of no longer distinguishing between same-sex unions and (heterosexual)
marriages,” he wrote. “All ceremonies among two committed, loving adults at
The Riverside Church will be recognized as marriages….We further commit our
resolve to support efforts leading to the development of social policies and
laws that enable same-gender loving couple’s access to the privileges, legal
protections, and benefits of civil marriage.”
The statement
put Braxton way out in front of most other black clerics, in the company of
Jeremiah Wright, another black preacher who made his career leading a UCC
congregation. Indeed, Braxton shares with Wright a public commitment to Afro
centric theology, which often drives white Protestants, and certainly
conservatives, crazy.
But Braxton’s
Afro centric style is part of a package with substantial appeal to Riverside
liberals, white and black. Like Forbes, Braxton is the son of a Southern
black church pastor, but he comes with the sort of high octane intellectual
pedigree associated more with Riverside’s old mainline establishment heyday.
A Jefferson Scholar at the University of Virginia who went on to win a
Rhodes Scholarship, he earned a Ph.D. in New Testament from Emory University
and taught at Wake Forest and Vanderbilt before assuming the pulpit at
Riverside.
He can readily
accommodate Riverside mainliners who yearn for sermons studded with
footnotes and texts lifted from the headlines. “One can do Afro centric
scholarship and still be diverse,” he told interviewers from the Columbia
University undergraduate daily on September 24. One key aspect of
Christianity, he said, “involves us loving God with our minds. I hope to
bring serious, high-level conversation to Riverside Church.”
Braxton’s
embrace of the cause of gay rights was, it seems, intended to send a message
to the church’s white liberals, hungry as they are for a champion on an
issue they care deeply about but haven’t been able to move forward. They may
not get a lot of Bach back on Sunday mornings, but Braxton seems willing to
use the prophetic eye to scrutinize the black church’s comfort zone.
While this
formula may not bring balm to the perennially troubled Gilead on Morningside
Heights, it might reconcile white oldtimers who have been complaining loudly
since the early 1990s. And there is no current sign of black backlash. It
may be, as was apparently the case for Jeremiah Wright, that a sufficiently
vigorous Afro centric worldview will give Braxton whatever legitimacy he
needs in the eyes of black congregants.
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