For the past few weeks, I have been avoiding the art of writing as if it were herpes. You would too if you had to confront as many personal, societal and theological contradictions as I’ve had to of late. The truth is that I’ve been engaged in an intense intellectual warfare—wrestling with the dialectic between the social world and the supreme supernatural society, struggling with the material and the transcendental, grappling with what ‘is’ and what ‘ought to be’. I just didn’t (and still don’t) know how to explain it all. Somehow, right in this very moment, I feel shouts of “go’n now, brother!”, “let it out,” and “go ahead and preach,” erupting within my spirit. It is to this compelling plea that I surrender. I can’t help myself. The cloud of witnesses in the cosmos would be grieved if I were to quench the fire within. Instead of voicing the Spirit-inspired babblings we Pentecostals are accustomed to, which I am sure would make no sense to many of you, I am being moved to reason with my disparate thoughts as I write. I entreat you to journey with me through Pentecostal landscapes in the United States, Jamaica and Trinidad, if just for a few minutes. Ready for the plunge?
The circuits extended across transnational Pentecostal communities have been re-charged by new jolts of gossip and despair. From the abuse of itinerant African American preacher, Juanita Bynum, by her estranged husband and pastor, Bishop Weeks III, to the false and empty prophesies about Jamaica’s 2007 election results by popular Kingston-based pastor, Reverend Phinn, news reports (saturated in additional commentary) have been dashing through charismatic Christendom. So what really happened, you ask? In essence, Rev. Bynum was punched to the ground by her husband, and Rev. Phinn told Jamaica’s former Prime Minister, Portia Simpson Miller, that she would win the election because God told him so…and she lost. I need not say that the characters of these fire-baptized ministers are now subject to much public criticism. While we await the verdict concerning the lovers, many in Jamaica have labeled Rev. Phinn a liar, and declared him ‘phinn-ished’. May the god who gave him the ‘prophesy’ rest his soul. HA!
I care not to cast judgment on these lovers and leaders; that’s not my place or choice, for I fully understand the frailty of spiritual and secular humanity. I am intrigued, however, by the expressions and expansion of these captive gossip-loving audiences. I cannot help but wonder, who are the real liars—the leaders or the lead? How did we come to construct ‘perfect’ purist Pentecostals? Were these Pentecostal icons revered idols as well? Who made them so? Are public perceptions based only on what the leaders say, or on imposed, lofty, unreal expectations as well? Do we not have room in our reasoning for the imperfections of the clergy? Why do they submit admiration to members of the clergy without cognizance of the possible weaknesses that abound within them? Can we afford to have spiritual sensibilities devoid of all pragmatism? Most importantly, why are so many Pentecostals alarmed? I can understand why some feminists/womanists, human rights activists, and justice-seekers would be disturbed by these unfortunate events. However, I would not be surprised if majority of the commentators are nothing but lovers of a hot, glorified, ghetto mess!
Believe it or not, I didn’t learn about these happenings until a Trinidadian preacher highlighted the incidents during his hour-long sermon entitled, “Call Him Up”. This brother went from admonishing parishioners to call on the Lord in times of need to reminding couples in the church to dial 999 (Trinidad’s equivalent to 911) when—not if!—attacked by a spouse, as if to suggest that marital abuse is to be expected. Thoroughly diluted in his Trinidadian tongue, the minister yelled “The blood of Jesus can’t block the fists from coming to your face. Don’t call me either. Call the police, I say, and tell it all to Jesus later.” “Now that’s a prophesy,” he quipped. You know me; I love to laugh and so I did until I had my fill. Don’t get me wrong, I was not amused by his comments; on the contrary I was troubled that he didn’t challenge his congregation to eschew violence in all its forms. I laughed because Madea was in my head, and I wondered what she would have said and done if she were in the pews. (For those of you who don’t know, Madea is the lead character in Tyler Perry’s plays such a Diary of a Mad Black Woman and Madea Goes to Jail). I could see her ‘bussin’ a cap and hear her shouting the immortal words of Sophia from The Color Purple: “All my life I had to fight!...I loves Harpo, but I kill him dead before I let him beat me.” At the close of the sermon—when I stopped laughing—I asked myself why is this minister highlighting foreign problems? (Yes! I do talk to and with myself…and no! I’m not crazy.) There are other worthy, more urgent issues in Trinidad (and the world) that we should raise holy hell about. Seeing that Trinidad has a robust economy and is the third richest country in the Caribbean according to a recent CARICOM survey, there should not be so many homeless people roaming the streets. Early childhood education should be emphasized more strongly. Religious bodies ought to be more invested in the development and wellbeing on the nations youth. My talks with scholars and theologians here in Trinidad have confirmed what ‘is’ and what‘ought to be’. What we can’t figure out so easily is how to transform what ‘ought to be’ to what ‘is’. Do you have any suggestions?
Every so often I catch myself critiquing all elements of society and the church and then I and ask, who ordained me Pentecostal cultural critic to the nations? Why am I not doing more? You see, it’s profitable (and selfish) for me to criticize society; it stimulates my intellect. My undergraduate training and personal theologies tell me that I am responsible for critiquing and transforming society. It is with this re-awakening that I’ve decided to work with the Catholic Commission of Social Justice to address some of the very issues mentioned above. And why am I not doing this with Pentecostal churches? I will tell you more in my next correspondence.
My beloved friends, I beseech you to stay far from crack... empty theologies and hollow reasoning. Whitney was right; crack is wack. What good is our thinking if it does not inform action? Of what importance are our judgments of Pentecostal lovers and liars if we don’t judge ourselves as well? Let’s chart some positive new(s) developments, shall we?
To the humanity in us all,
jr
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