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BY JOHN W. COLEMAN, JR.

Numerous churches in the Baltimore-Washington Conference celebrated Black History Month in February, recounting in various presentations the feats and faith of African-American heroes. But many black churches are grappling with the future today, challenged by changing realities that raise questions about their role and relevance in the black community.

The conference is the birthplace not only of organized American Methodism but also of some of the oldest black churches in the denomination, among them St. Paul UMC in Oxon Hill (1791), and three churches in Baltimore: Centennial-Caroline, which began as Dallas Street Methodist Episcopal Church (1801); Sharp Street (1802) and Christ (founded as Asbury in 1810). In Washington, D.C., Mt. Zion, Ebenezer and Asbury, established from 1812 to 1836, all emerged from majority-white parent churches, like their Baltimore counterparts, where mistreated black worshippers were confined to church balconies and second-class status. They left to worship and lead their own churches with freedom and dignity.

For nearly two centuries these black churches and others became centers of leadership development, communal activities and advocacy for social change, as they helped lead the fight for civil rights. Meanwhile, they grew through teaching discipleship and nurturing the spiritual lives of their members.

But progress has brought many changes over the past four decades and many black churches failed to adapt to new cultural and demographic shifts, along with the demands and frustrations of those who no longer saw the church as central to their lives or relevant to their needs.

Some observers, including several noted religion professors at major universities, have gone so far as to pronounce the black church’s demise. “The black church, as we’ve known it or imagined it, is dead,” Eddie Glaude Jr., chair of Princeton University’s Center for African American Studies, wrote in a Feb. 24, 2010, Huffington Post blog.

Glaude and his cohorts claim that black churches have withered and become powerless from their reverence for the glory days and that old-time religion, rather than seizing upon present-day challenges and opportunities for social relevance and transformation.

“Black America stands at the precipice,” wrote Glaude, citing overwhelming levels of poverty, incarceration, illness and helplessness that oppress black communities. While he sees “countless local black churches … working diligently to address these problems,” he considers them to be exceptions to the rule.

Glaude’s comments have since triggered contentious debates and reactions, pro and con, from church leaders and observers across the ecclesial spectrum. In recent interviews with several Baltimore-Washington Conference black pastors, some admitted that many black churches have been less than effective in adapting to new social realities, as they try to sing the Lord’s song in a strange land.

“Death of ineffective systems is needed to challenge the black church to once again become relevant, relational and responsible for the communities where we are called to do ministry,” said the Rev. Rodney Smothers, pastor of St. Paul UMC in Oxon Hill. His church, like many others, is building collaboration with local schools and other neighborhood partners to make more of an impact on its community.

“We can no longer sing the songs of Zion without understanding that our songs of life demand a fresh look at our advocacy and involvement in the lives of the people who compose our local communities – churched and unchurched.”

Still, most clergy see the rumors of the black church’s death as grossly exaggerated.

“Show me where its body lies, show me the bones, show me the tomb!” said the Rev. Cynthia Belt, pastor of Centennial-Caroline UMC. “The black church is still advocating for its people, still a refuge for people to get their needs met and still the place where the community runs in times of trouble.” As proof, Belt points to social service agencies, police departments and politicians who regularly call upon black churches for emergency help and social action.

Centennial-Caroline like many churches, is burdened by an aging, energy-draining, inconvenient building, as well as financial constraints that have only worsened under an economic recession that still holds many black communities in its grip. The congregation, which uses informality and welcoming strategies to attract more worshippers — such as coffee-house-style worship and Bible study on some Sundays — plans to sell its historic building and move to more modern, accessible quarters in East Baltimore.

At Asbury UMC in Shepherdstown, W.Va., sharing both sacred and secular wisdom through education is key to staying relevant and relational with the community. “Teaching is crucial to the life of any church, but particularly in the black church,” said the Rev. Rudy Bropleh, pastor. He believes the black church has lost its place at the nexus of its community because its teachings have not changed enough with the times.

“For my kids, the primary issue is no longer segregation and discrimination; it is economic equality and social mobility,” he said. “Thus, I can’t always preach from Exodus 12:51, where the Israelites were freed from Egypt; I have to also preach from Philippians 3:12-14, about working, attaining and progressing.”

And yet, Bropleh, a native of Liberia, added, “We must also become more intentional about missions. That is our weakest link. Seekers in 2011 are looking for churches that are lively, relational and mission-minded.”

Several Washington D.C. churches are using that very formula to seek spiritual and practical solutions to the woes of their communities. Douglass UMC works with other D.C. area churches in providing an array of ministries to help a growing and neglected population of female military veterans who struggle with physical, emotional, social and logistical problems.

Meanwhile, Emory UMC sponsors Bridges of Hope, a program of diverse offerings, like nutrition, fellowship, teaching, and job opportunities.

Emory, known for its dynamic, high-spirited, contemporary-style worship, also operates a transitional shelter for homeless families and advocates for more low-income housing through Washington Interfaith Network, a grassroots, faith-based social-change organization.

“The notion that the black church is dead is a myth,” said the Rev. Joseph Daniels, Emory’s pastor. “We have many examples of vibrant black churches, where congregations are doing social justice and soul justice, and where we are worshipping and proclaiming the Gospel of our Lord and Savior, Jesus Christ, in the midst of tough, painful socio-economic challenges.”

Professor Glaude recently defended his controversial assertion that the black church is dead. But he acknowledged that the debate he ignited is “really about turning over the soil so we can think about what it means to be black and Christian in the 21st century.

“In Christianity death never has the last word,” he said. “So to declare the death of the black church is actually to declare the precondition for its resurrection.”

Additional Reading

BMRC offers insights into the state of the black church