All the divisive issues that torment and fragment American society came crashing down on the 3,400 delegates attending the sixty-third annual meeting of the American Baptist Convention in Cincinnati’s cavernous Convention Center last month.
The delegates agonized over Cambodia and Viet Nam; they were taunted by youths as being irrelevant, castigated by black churchmen for failing to live up to promises, blamed by women for sexual discrimination that keeps them out of denominational high places, and told that the convention faces a shrinking budget. And they got into a water fight over whether ABC delegates should be “immersed” believers. (They voted to leave the matter to the local churches.)
The issue of violence at home and abroad sent the first shock wave across the convention. The Resolutions Committee submitted a strong report charging that “America’s undeclared war in Southeast Asia” is seriously eroding the delicate balance of power between the executive and legislative branches of government. The resolution called on President Nixon to “implement his election promise to get America out of the conflict as speedily as possible, and to do so promptly by calling our fighting forces from Cambodia and by permanently stopping the bombing of North Viet Nam.” The resolution urged Congress to end appropriations for Cambodia by the end of June and all military appropriations for Viet Nam by the end of the year.
After heated debate, the delegates voted 1,109 to 699 to adopt a watered-down substitute resolution that said Nixon was within his constitutional rights in sending soldiers into Cambodia “with the stated intent of protecting lives of American soldiers and shortening the war.” The resolution commended the President for withdrawing thousands of troops from Viet Nam but did urge him to “finalize his election promises to get Americans out of the conflict in Southeast Asia.”
During the discussion on resolutions—though not the one on Cambodia—a group of young people, sprinkled with over-thirties, quietly paraded through the hall holding peace placards. Many Young Baptist Churchmen, who had spoken of the convention in scornful terms for not being “where it’s at,” participated.
The Executive Ministers Council of the ABC also voted to support “the youth in America who have gone the constructive route to bring about change through petition and persuasion.” The small pacifist segment in the ABC, represented by the American Baptist Peace Fellowship, seemed to catch new life in the convention and plans to raise $10,000 to pay for a staff man to increase the group’s visibility.
Dr. Edwin H. Dahlberg, the grand old man of the peace movement, reminded listeners at a breakfast meeting that “reconciliation must begin with the individual. The big job is in the field of evangelism and for people to be born again. Many protesters are forsaking the spirit of Christ for violence.”
The most dramatic moment in the annual meeting came in the wake of an impassioned plea by black churchmen for a relief fund for homeless and jobless blacks in Augusta, Georgia, and for an investigative committee from the ABC to visit Augusta to make a full-scale report on the recent slaying of six black persons there.
Sherry Johnson, 23, a senior at the University of Kansas, was one of several young people given fifteen minutes on the program to rap about their concerns.
“This may mean we may have to go to Augusta,” she said. “It may mean we will have to give up our summer vacations in order to raise a few dollars for the relief fund—which I would like to start right now.” The pretty coed then walked across the platform to where the black churchmen were sitting and dropped her gift into a shopping bag.
The crowd came cheering to its feet, and a long line of blacks began dropping in their contributions. Many whites followed; a total of $1,101 was collected.
Dr. Martin Luther King, delegate from Atlanta and father of the slain civil-rights leader, strode to the platform to denounce in loud terms his “Christian white brothers.”
“I’m disturbed about you white folks who kept your seats,” he shouted. “This is the American Baptist Convention—not the Southern Baptist Convention. I am disturbed that you are not concerned about what is happening to black people in Augusta, which is ungodly, unchristian, and unconstitutional.” The stocky, gray-haired minister received a roof-raising ovation from a large part of the convention.
The clerical delegates found themselves faced with the double-barreled option of whether to convert their Ministers Council into a professional organization or join a dissenting ministers union being pushed by Young Turks at the convention. Several indicated they would resolve the question by joining both. The newly formed Union of American Baptist Clergy served notice it plans militant action in the areas of salaries, placement of ministers, and contracts with churches.
The proposed professional organization would be called the Council of American Baptist Professional Leaders—a name most ministers prefer to the union label. It would mediate controversies between ministers and congregations, provide placement of ministers, and have a national senate composed of elected delegates from the state and area councils.
The only black person attending the union meeting was Dr. Thomas Kilgore, the dignified Negro ABC president from Los Angeles. Asked in an interview why no blacks joined the union, he replied: “In the black community, the black minister is king. And kings don’t join unions.”
Mrs. Donald N. Thompson, speaking for the American Baptist Women, said that if the convention didn’t nominate a woman president next year, the women would do so from the floor. She said the convention was now dominated by clergymen, and she proposed a rotating presidency—lay woman, lay man, educator, and clergyman.
Dr. Kilgore, who presided over the sessions with a cool head and a warm heart, was succeeded by the Reverend Roger L. Fredrikson, of Sioux Falls, South Dakota (see story following).
In his presidential speech Kilgore urged delegates—plus 1,700 visitors—to make the convention “serve as agent to lead in a pan-Baptist movement in America” embracing eight million black and eleven million white Baptists. The convention later passed a resolution creating associated organizations and inviting the predominantly black Progressive National Baptist Convention to become one.
The evangelical voice was heard loud and clear throughout the convention. Kathleen Norell, instructor in English at Prince Georges Community College in Maryland, Paul Henry, a doctoral student at Duke University, and Richard N. Ostling, religion reporter for Time magazine, participated in a panel. All three eloquently expressed evangelical views—on the arts (Mrs. Norell), social ethics (Henry), and mass media (Ostling)—elaborating on statements published in the January 2 issue of CHRISTIANITY TODAY.
The clash of the giants, however, was between theologians Dr. Harvey G. Cox and Dr. Carl F. H. Henry. Cox, with his full beard and coats of many colors, quickly established himself as the darling of the liberals; Henry was the undisputed champion of the conservatives. Both gave major addresses to the full assembly. At one point Henry chided his backers for applauding, explaining that the divine truths of Scripture should not be treated in the same manner as another point racked up by the home team.
Cox agreed with Henry that social ethics are not “determined by bureaucratic input” and that “we do not need a church which is merely doing more of the same” as welfare workers and VISTA volunteers. The conservative viewpoint seemed to prevail at the convention.
JAMES ADAMS
ABC’s New Prexy
The Reverend Roger L. Fredrikson, newly elected president of the American Baptist Convention, believes he will have to avoid labels if he is to be effective in his new position.
“I have to start with a free hand,” explained the soft-spoken pastor of the 1,800-member First Baptist Church in Sioux Falls, South Dakota. “I don’t want to get caught in the conservative-liberal issue. I want to be an agent of reconciliation.”
Dr. Fredrikson, 49, has a good record of keeping his balance when it comes to both theology and social action. He is probably the only card-carrying clergy member of Alcoholics Anonymous in his denomination. He got the card for work done in rehabilitating alcoholics. His church sponsors a half-way house for men out of prison called the Glory House and a popular downtown coffeehouse for young people called the Firehouse.
The Baptist pastor serves on an interfaith weekly television show called “The Open Door,” along with a Catholic priest and a Lutheran minister. He also has been involved with the evangelically oriented Faith at Work church-renewal teams that hold conferences for clergymen across the country. Fredrikson and his wife have three children: Randall, a second-year Harvard Divinity School student; Miriam, a sophomore at Ottawa (Kansas) University; and Joel, a high-school senior.
The ABC president says that in his new role he “symbolizes this particular Baptist family for a year. … I’m in the group that still believes there is hope for the church.”
