Since the age of about 9 or 10, my family has been a part of the local church. We always attended ALL of the Sunday services and mid-week bible studies. And of course we always paid our tithes and offerings (lest we be accused of robbing God). I was very fortunate to have a father in my life that took our family to church every Sunday. For us, going to church was more than just some ritual, it was part of the foundation of our family. In addition to going to church on Sundays, we would go home and mom would always have the “Sunday” meal already prepared and waiting for us in the oven. During service, all I could think about was those chicken wings and baked mac and cheese waiting for us at home. Just when it seemed that the preacher was about to finish his sermon, he would always chime “this is my first closing”. After about the 3rd one, I already was about to jump on my chair and just go insane. The nights we would have communion were just what the doctor ordered, not because of the symbolism behind it, but because I just wanted some snack to hold me over and those mints my mom kept giving me were just giving me more gas (Hey, I was very young at the time icon smile Where are all the strong men in the church? (a personal story) )

My father was a very hard-working man who did not like to take hand-outs from anybody. As a college drop-out, he worked hard to move him and his family ahead in life. When he moved to Philadelphia from the south, one of his first jobs was driving an ice cream truck (Mister Softee to be exact). Eventually he landed a job (with the help of his brother-in-law [my uncle]) working in a steel factory in N.E. Philly. Over the years, this man went from an entry-level position to a superintendent with about 100 or so people under him. He dealt with racism like you would not believe (if any of you are familiar with N.E. Philly back in the day, you know exactly what I am talking about).

Because my dad was moving up the “ladder” at the plant, naturally he was able to buy things that the family desperately needed, like a new car. In 1976, we became the proud owners of a green Cougar with white leather interior. I can still smell that new car smell to this day. Unfortunately not too many days after this, our car was stolen from our North Philadelphia home. This was the last straw for my dad, so he decided to follow the mini migration at the time of black folks moving from Philly to the suburbs of New Jersey. Living in the suburbs did not change this self-determination characteristic attitude that my dad had when we lived in the city.

Eventually, my family became Christians and we attended this church not that far from our suburbia home. Like all the other men, my dad followed the usual trek that most men are expected to follow when they join the church: He became an usher, and later he became an alter worker. This was all fine and dandy for my dad at first, but there was something inside of him that wanted to do more than working in the church.

So later, my dad got involved in the prison ministry where he later became a chaplain. It was something about being around other men that energized him. In addition to this, he would from time to time have his male friends to come over where. His little “get-togethers” with these men eventually turned into an ministry he started called “Men be Men”. His main focus for this group was to establish a vehicle where men could be themselves regardless of racial make-up, background, etc. He mainly associated with men that were outside the church.

Well, as word got out in our church of what my dad was doing (trust me, he was not doing this on the “sneak tip” nor did he have any reason to do so), the rumors began to fly all over the place. The main rumor was that my dad was trying to bring division in the church. Because most of the men that my dad associated with were black (not by choice, but by where we lived and worked), he was also accused of trying to create a racial division in the church (this church that we attended was mostly white with a white pastor). Then there were the impromptu “interrogations” by various ministers and the sermons where our family was talked about without mentioning our name. My dad made every attempt to involve this church in what he was doing, but their position was pretty much “if we ain’t doing it, you shouldn’t either.”

It was also during this time that my dad felt the need to try to work with the local churches in the area to get them to come together to talk about how they could work together. I do not have the time or enough words to tell you how much pure HELL my dad had to endure from our own church. Because our church was one of the largest in the are, it was almost “below” them to join such an initiative–especially one that was being led by just a member (not a minister). A couple of churches did however join with this initiative and our initial “Unity day” went off without a hitch. It was wonderful to see pastors in the area coming together, not because someone just got shot, but because they saw the rift between them and wanted to do something about it. My dad was just a facilitator of this gathering–he wanted the pastors to be seen before the people.

It did not get any easier for us at our home church after this event. I can remember hearing my dad crying in the other room to my mom wondering why the very people that claim to love him as a brother in the Lord were treating him as some bastard. It was like my dad had so much inside of him that needed to come out, but church bureaucracy wanted it to stay bottled up.

Eventually, my mom and dad finally left that church to attend a predominately black church in the area. Sadly, they encountered some of the same “control” crap that they experienced in their last church.

I have already given you a whole lot to read so far, so I will stop the story right here.

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The reason why I took all this time to talk about my early experiences with the church is so that you as the reader can see exactly where I am coming from and to hopefully show my deepest sincerity on this issue (in other words, I am not just talking on the side of my mouth when addressing church issues).

In many of our churches today, pastors are intimidated by men who, like them can make a difference. In all of my travels from cost to coast in this country, I have seen situations like my dad’s being played out over and over again. I have also observed two types of men in the church: The pretty boy “yes men”, and everyone else.

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Pretty boy “yes” men

These are the men that strive to be just like the pastor. They talk like him, walk like him, dress like him, aspire to carry his books to service, etc. These brothas will do just about anything to get the attention of the pastor. You will usually find these men sitting on or near the front row of just about any church. You usually cannot be a part of this exclusive group unless you are either a minister, or aspire to be one. If it is not your goal to do full time ministry, then forget about being included in this group. In many cases, you will see these guys operate in the role of body guard to the pastor.

For the men who have no desire to be like these pretty boy “yes” men, they are given the following options:

1. Become an usher

2. Sing in the choir

3. Teach Sunday school

Men who do not want to do any of these options pretty much do not have a place in the church except to drive their wives to service.

The true nature of men is to build, fix, and/or improve the world around him. When this inner-need for fulfillment is stifled by a person (someone you barely know) who declares himself as a leader, or a “father” in your life, most men will turn away from this type of leadership. In other words, for most men, trust does not automatically come with someone’s title (pastor, bishop, etc.)–it comes through relationship. A man is not going to pattern his life after another man just because the “other man” is a pastor–yet this is what many churches expect from its men.

Churches must begin to allow their men to be themselves without feeling intimidated. The true nature of a pastor is to be a servant to the people, not just to settle in the role of leader. Jesus could have done it all by Himself, but He chose to die, be resurrected, and return to heaven so that his disciples could do the work. All Jesus did was to lay the foundation. It was those that followed that were charged with “spreading the gospel (or good news)”. Jesus knew that at some point He had to get out of the way so that His followers could mature by doing the work themselves. There is no reason why men should “waste away” in a church for years and years while the communities around them are unaware of their existence and potential to improve the world around them. Men should feel free to be who they are as men (as described above) without feeling as though their every action has to be sanctioned by a bureaucratic church system.

Another point to think about. Many of the opinions of men (and women) are forged in constructive debate. In most churches today, if you even differ with the pastor in any way, you are out of the “program” (ask any church-going person when was the last time they vocally differed with the pastor on a particular issue). A pastor may be appointed as “a man of God”, however, he is not the ultimate authority on God’s word (i.e. they are not little “Jesus’ “). It is this ideology that has silenced the voices of many in the church whose contributions could have made a difference in the effectiveness in a ministry. The truth is, if you as a church-goer feel intimidated in anyway to disagree with your pastor, you may need to re-evaluate your membership to that ministry.

There are many men in churches out there that are like my dad (that is why I took the time to share with you part of his story): strong, filled with purpose, and a desire to improve the world around them. Unfortunately, most churches today are designed only to empower the man within the walls of the church while the rest of the community continues to deteriorate.

****Please note: I do realize that there are some churches out there that are being effective in their communities by not categorizing their men as I described above. Unfortunately, they are far too few of them.




 

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