What are the religious and racial aspects of liberating U.S. democracy from authoritarianism? A recent conference at United Lutheran Seminary in Philadelphia addressed this question.
En route to the conference, I saw a social media post quoting conservative commentator Megan Basham saying: “It seems fairly obvious that much of the faculty and even those allegedly conservative seminaries are more progressive and more woke than the ordinary Christian in the pew. This, in turn, often leads to the pastor in the pulpit being more progressive and more woke than the church member he is shepherding. Do you think this is true? What do you think are the causes of it if so? And what do we do about it?”
During the conference, I had a chance to chat with Shonda Jones, dean of Texas Christian University’s Brite Divinity School. After reflecting on the profound impact made on us by the rigorous Baptist church history professor Bill Leonard — who taught me at Southern Baptist Theological Seminary and with whom she worked at Wake Forest — we turned our attention to the ongoing rigors of Christian ministry and how to prepare ministers.
Several conference speakers had stressed moving from merely talking about justice to taking action that might not be popular. So, I decided to use our time to explore Jones’ thoughts on the alleged discrepancy between pastors’ actual views versus what they share with congregations. I paraphrased Basham’s post and added personal context. Here is an edited account of our conversation.
BB: Twenty years ago, when searching for a position as a senior pastor, I created a dossier detailing my theology and my philosophy of leadership. A revered retired pastor — who had served one church for about 20 years — reviewed it. He said, “Brad, you’re never going to get a job as pastor with this. You’re being too honest.” I later confronted a group of local pastors why they had not publicly opposed an ordinance to post the Ten Commandments. A pastor angrily said to me, “I know what it means to take a stand, but that issue became a (partisan) bandwagon, and 75% of my members were members of that party. If I had taken a stand on that, they would have run me out on a rail.”
Jones: You know, the thing that keeps coming to mind is: Brite is a progressive institution. Students typically come to us because they already had that disposition, but we have, increasingly, a number of students who don’t even know what “progressive” means. So, we stand at attention. Because some students are coming because of proximity. So, we’re getting this from a new real-time diversity. So, I feel like some of our students are having to work out and negotiate and having these conversations with people in classroom spaces that will be like people in their congregations.
BB: Like your student this morning who was sharing about working in a “purple church.”
“How do you accompany people and not judge them? And how do you not become an accomplice in things that are not justice-making?”
Jones: That’s right. There’s this mix going on. So, part of what I think seminaries — divinity schools — have to do is talk to students. What you’re naming is not a theology problem. I think some of it is interpersonal skills; some of it is building trust and influence. Some of it is prioritization.
How do you prioritize the work that needs to be done in a particular setting? How do you name core commitments? And not necessarily go in hot with topics. Right? So, if we’re talking about core commitments, it comes off a little different.
It’s saying that, you know, I want all God’s people to be fed and have an education. So, I’m not getting into the voucher debate. I’m talking about a core commitment. And the how comes later as you accompany and come alongside people. So the possibility is to have students while they’re in their educational context at a divinity school to able to learn how to do that. How do you accompany people and not judge them? And how do you not become an accomplice in things that are not justice-making?
You don’t want to be an accomplice, but if you’re able to be clear on your core commitments and why it’s important, I feel like there are ways in which you journey with people. Because they also have some core commitments. And part of what you have to do as a pastor is learn: As I think about my congregation as a group of people, what are some of the commitments they’ve already claimed, and how do I gain synergy there and move them along?
Pastors who continue to serve in place where like, “Oh, if my congregation knew what I thought about this” — like for years — is weird to me. You know? Because I think there are opportunities to push people. And really, I think sometimes there’s a lack of trust with pastors and their congregations and their ability to move and think differently. But once you build that trust and influence, they’re actually looking to you to teach, to help them understand what it would mean to be a more faithful Christian.
BB: Yeah. That puzzled look on my face is because I asked some colleagues about creating a discussion group about how to address our current political climate, and one said, “Well, be aware I’m at a purple church, so I have to be very careful.” And I thought, “Careful about what?” And I appreciate your language of core commitments (because) what good is it if you’re just going to look the other way because you’re afraid you’re going to offend somebody?
Jones: That’s right. I’m a United Methodist. (Since coming to Brite) I am back attending my home church. They’ve had several pastors come through (while I’ve been away) and, most recently, the pastor is someone who we came up together; he was at Southern Methodist University while I was at Brite. There was a church council meeting. And the congregation generally is a Black progressive church in terms of social justice as it relates to race. And some work around LGBTQ stuff but not explicitly.
And I remember somebody in the congregation said, “I just don’t know where we fall on all this LGBTQ stuff and the trans stuff.” And the pastor — he’s a friend of mine — he said, “You know, I don’t see how we can claim to be for justice and not include everybody at the table — congregational life. He said, “I would need some help to understand that. As Black folks, how would we be able to explain our move toward justice (if) part of our work was to move people out?”
And people were nodding and saying, “Yeah, that’s right.” And they maybe hadn’t thought about it that way, but he didn’t think to himself, I need to hide what I think about that. He began to ask questions. He even started leading a sermon with a question: Let’s see what the text says. Right? So, it was an invitation to consider a different way of thinking.
“A lot of seminarians — especially in progressive spaces — haven’t done a lot of work to think through nuance.”
So, I think in divinity schools, this has been my experience in the last decade, a lot of seminarians — especially in progressive spaces — haven’t done a lot of work to think through nuance.
They haven’t done a lot of work to think through nuance or to build an argument or to think what another person’s embedded experience is like. All they know is “That’s wrong” and sort of this wagging the finger toward justice. So, their end (goal) may be really good, but in terms of them having really thought through all the kinds of possibilities of how someone else could wind up in a different space, they just don’t have the patience for it. So, it just comes off as judgmental.
I don’t think that’s helpful. And I think as educators, we have to help students slow down in the educational space and say, “Well, let’s think through that. It doesn’t mean I disagree with you, but I think you need to start formulating your thinking around it.”
BB: The image that just went through my mind is childbirth. That it’s an ugly, painful, messy business. But we can’t rush it. It has to be nurtured.
Jones: Yes. It has to be nurtured. And I think if, in educational spaces, if we’re demonstrating that to students, they then do it in other spaces that they go to, and they understand themselves and pastors and educators; they’re teachers.
BB: But when — to follow the childbirth analogy — when pregnancy become problematic and life-threatening, like needing to do a C-section or something radical to help: When church members’ beliefs become harmful to others, it’s time to not look the other way but to confront.
Jones: That’s right. I think there’s a role for confrontation and correction and all that. But I think you do that as you walk with people — as you sit by their bedside when their people are sick, and you bury them and all that.
So, not only are you very self-aware, but you become very aware of their context. And it doesn’t mean that you’re bending or compromising. It just means you’re operating with more information that’s more expansive in terms of deciding which moves you make.
Brad Bull is a freelance writer in Nashville, Tenn. He has served as a hospital chaplain, pastor, professor and therapist.


