Connie Stinson - Aftermath

I am just one minister whose charge is a little congregation comprised of little people. The fact that we sit right next to what some folk like to call the most powerful city in the world is a line I sometimes use to make me feel less small.

I took my small self to the New Baptist Covenant Celebration last week. A few of my colleagues-in-ministry, pastors of large congregations with publicly powerful people (a distinction that may or may not be significant here), returned home and reported to their congregations that the conference was, as had been feared by some, mostly comprised of political rhetoric, more “show” than valuable enterprise, after all. These colleagues criticized messages and those who delivered them. I found myself wondering if I attended the same event.

I can see that it would be easy to be cynical. Usually, it happens to those who have been burned or hurt or disappointed or all the above, a plight common among ministers, and likely more common among moderate Baptist ones. We tend to work long hours for little-to-no measurable gain and in little-to-no supportive company. It’s often a lonely job. One often ends up “doing stuff” that doesn’t appear to be ministry at all, which raises the probability that cynicism will eventually overcome. Being anything but cynical requires trusting in a future that usually doesn’t seem likely.

But today I’m not…cynical. In fact, for the first time in my adulthood, for the first time since I realized the Southern Baptist Convention would cease being the Church through which God called me as a female teenager to a lifetime of vocational ministry, I feel proud and grateful to be a Baptist! Now, again for the first time in my adult life, I feel as though I can confidently say to the world as well as to my un-churched neighbor, that I am one of “those Baptists” who cares about the state of our world and am resolved to do something to help…and that along with other kindred spirits the likes of which met in Atlanta last week, I am building relational bridges to share concerns and plan strategies to address them. I have already spoken with two other pastor friends (who had similarly positive responses to the meetings in Atlanta) about an urgent need to come together and begin the process locally.

Beyond acquiring a new sense of moderate Baptist identity, my inner spirit was fed last week. I was deeply moved by the convictions of others in the face of their weariness and loneliness. I shouldn’t have been surprised to discover that some highly visible public servants have been deeply discouraged, but I was. Perhaps I have been so consumed by my own troubles that I didn’t bother to think about the fact that others in “high places” might have similar ones. Through them, I was reminded of why I do what I do.

There are many Baptist ministers, lay and otherwise, whose hearts are breaking, whose bodies are fatigued, and whose spirits are hungry, but who still manage to carry on. Two-and-a-half days spent with more moderate Baptists than I have ever seen in one place gave me a glimpse of what-could-be if we did a better job combining forces, albeit our weak, broken, weary, spiritually deprived ones. Last week’s New Baptist Covenant Celebration gave this tired body and soul a good shot of spiritual adrenaline. It is the only like-event in my 52 years that has had this affect on me, but it might have been enough to keep me going.