Honestly, I never knew a whole-whole lot about Will Campbell who died yesterday–a life well- and long-lived in irreverence and in service of the just God in which he believed. I had friends who were friends of his, reporter colleague-friends who'd interviewed him, friends who'd met him. He lived on the other side of town, here in NashVegas. My favorite story via a friend who talked to him at a Southern Baptist Convention (SBC):
It was half-a-decade-plus, probably, into the Fundamentalists' hostile corporate-style take over of the SBC, then, at least, the largest Protestant denomination in the country. Something of which they are/were very proud. I know because I worked in the communications departments of their various agencies for 11 years. (Bet many of you didn't know that, did you?) (I try to keep it a secret.)
One particular year, Campbell showed up at the annual convention donning special attire for the occasion. (The collective body of Southern Baptist churches are called a Convention and then The Convention has a convention. Every June.) Since the kick-off of that 10-year successfully waged and won battle to claim The Convention back from the liberals, the Fundies–as we used to call them–made ummm, what's the superlative? Something besides horrific–which they were–declarations each June during their three day (or was it five-day Convention? My memory of the misery is partially blocked). Rev. Bailey Smith of the great state of Texas made the first. (Now remember I'm JUST the messenger here). "God doesn't hear the prayers of a Jew." (WHAT? Ummm. Wasn't Jesus a Jew?) All you little girls who grew up in SBC churches in the golden era of (the liberals, ha!) who decided to become ministers and are about to graduate seminaries?: "Women cannot be ministers." (Or, at least the ministers that lead and preach behind the pulpit of the church every Sunday.) Or, oh, yeah: deacons, either!) "Boycott Disney because they promote homosexuality." (Huh?!) And I think they were at it harping on the gay thing again last year. (And I think a very old Campbell came publicly, with a response, to the defense of love, justice and rights. Bless. The old radical. God love him.) That last proclamation (something damning about the way some people are born, meaning sexual preferences,) was years after they ousted every last damn liberal from the pews. But my memory lost track after "Eve tempted Adam and therefore women caused the fall of man and so therefore if you work for a Southern Baptist agency, you must pledge the Baptist Faith and Message and your wives must submit to you." (That one had a lot of hard-working professional Baptist SINGLE women scratching their noggins about just where in the heck they fit in. (And what about that "wives love your husbands" part and the fact that "submit," in the classical languages–Greek, Hebrew, yada–means "love?" (Great example of culture adulterating the context in which the text was written…Just sayin'.)
BUT, I digress. Or do I? It was the Will B. Dunn's and the Will Campbells (well, there was no other quite like) who kept reminding The Convention of its hypocrisy in the face of the loving God they said they served. And, as for that story I started to tell you a moment ago:
Campbell showed up (about seven-years in to the hostile takeover) sporting a railroad engineer's hat. Somehow the subject came up about the "why" of the hat. I suspect my friend who told me this story didn't have to ask "why" Campbell wore this hat. Campbell told him. Told everybody he encountered, I think . The reason he was wearing a railroad hat, he reportedly told my friend, was "because that's what's going on here!" (Railroading!) (Get it?!) (Ha.)
God is loving. God is love. Humans forget that of which they/we are made. Young women who begin questioning the inconsistencies of religious rhetoric when they are a mere eight-years-old and then find themselves as a young woman being embroiled in the ugliest of religious politics…well, it didn't help in a journey out of Christianity. But it was not the key reason for leaving the faith. Simply, I found, that for me, God was bigger than one path and one way. And all that railroading that Campbell spoke of? Well, it just helped me get a faster running start to catch that fast train the heck out of Dodge.
During this era, back in the 80s, I heard a prominent minister, the elected leader of The Convention, lie to the faces of a room crammed full of reporters….I came to realize that despite our human forgetfulness of the God in whose image we are made, we do make "mistakes." (Or, as less than optimal choices. There are no mistakes….Lessons. Lessons.) God does use even the most cracked and chipped of the vessels She creates. Even the minister of thousands in a downtown Southern mega city who lies to reporters. The one who eventually got caught in another string of lies about a series of affairs with female parishioners. He fell from grace, or at least human doled out grace. The grace of the forgetful. He's back in the pulpit. And back on t.v. And God can even be glimpsed in his messages. Like always.
Part of the journey, for me, is cleaning out the vessel so the light can shine through, in, out and from and remembering the vessel was created perfect, that I allowed life to crack and chip it. That sometimes the lesson is to crack even crack completely in two or into many pieces. And part of that allowance–on whatever level of consciousness–was/is to learn. So despite my disdain for the corporate church of my youth, again, it is MY truth that God works beauty for the best interest of all people, even me, even through the Baptists and other religions, and all people, including me, who too often forget the life and message and beauty of God and God's manifestations.
You can Google oodles about Campbell and his life and about the cartoon and the cartoonist who made him even more iconic. I have another story I could tell about that duo, but I cannot tell it publicly. I do not begin to do justice here to Campbells life of justice. He lived his faith during the Civil Rights movement when his church body (The Convention) remained stagnant. (Interpret: Segregationist.)
Will B. Dunn. R.I.P. Thank you. I hope you're having a grand time wherever you are out there in the cosmos, whatever form you have chosen or will choose to take in this next life adventure. And, bless. Bless us all. In our forgetfulness. In our woundness. And, when we remember who we are. When we live the words of that which we claim as our respective Truth. Namaste.
My Church of Christ friend, who is a Sunday School teacher, a preacher, a philosopher and a politic-er, Bill Peach, resurrected a couple of his past blog posts celebrating Campbell while he still graced earth with his presence. You can read them here: Brother Will. And, here, Obscenity. Enjoy. Bill's a fine thinker and a hell of a writer.
