Church's offer to pay 'had definite impact'
Incentives for whites to attend services end, but Shreveport still abuzz 04:39 PM CDT on Saturday, September 6, 2003
SHREVEPORT, La. – Bishop Fred Caldwell's $5-an-hour offer for whites to
attend his mostly black church is over, but not before igniting a
race-relations discussion that still has people talking.
"It has clearly caused a conversation about some important issues in the
Shreveport community," said Greg Hunt, pastor of Shreveport's First
Baptist Church. "If the story dies out, I hope at least the questions
he's raised have stimulated folks to care."
Bishop Caldwell of Greenwood Acres Full Gospel Baptist Church is now a
celebrity in this northwestern Louisiana city of about 200,000, with
about the same number of black residents and white residents.
Mr. Caldwell says he was inspired during a sermon a few Sundays back to
offer $5 an hour to any white person who would visit his church on
Sundays, $10 an hour on Thursdays. The offer ended last Sunday.
It was a way to diversify the congregation, he said, and to make the
community take a look at itself and begin to change.
"They are still talking about it," he said. "A lot of people have become
unsettled who were in their comfort zones. Now they are forced to take a
look at themselves, and, oftentimes, people don't like doing that.
"It has had a definite impact. And it's not going to go away, because
it's a psychological thing – that a black man would pay white folk to
come to church."
The $5 offer was not just a novel way to fill the pews, diversify the
congregation and save souls, said Dr. Rodney Grunes, head of the History
and Political Science Department at Centenary College of Louisiana.
Just to integrate one church would be a job well done, he said. To force
change in the power structure would be monumental.
"To have a change either in the power relationships in the community, or
in the segregation of churches, I think it's certainly more than a
gimmick, and clearly has possibilities," Dr. Grunes said. "But the
history of the community makes it a major challenge."
Bishop Caldwell, 57, and others say Shreveport has its share of racial
problems.
"Racial prejudice here runs deep," he said, adding that he thought some
white ministers might be afraid to speak out on such problems for fear
of losing their jobs.
Mr. Hunt of First Baptist said that's not necessarily true.
"Though that may be true of some congregations, it would not be true of
ours," he said. "We are primarily pink as we can be, but we do have
black members, racial and ethnic diversity, people from a variety of
cultures and language groups.
"This is a church that would have had people in the early '70s standing
in the doors to prevent a black person from coming in to worship on
Sunday morning. But I have seen measurable and conspicuous change. The
racist perspective has been marginalized."
1998 effort
Mr. Caldwell said the effort yielded meager results.
Shreveport race relations were back in the news in March when protests
erupted after police officers shot an unarmed 25-year-old black man,
Marquise Hudspeth, in the back. The officers said they mistook his
shiny, metallic cellphone for a handgun.
In the wake of the protests by black community leaders, which resulted
in the resignation of Police Chief Jim Roberts, a group of white
residents formed an opposition group called "Back the Badge" to stand
behind police. Mayor Keith Hightower, a Democrat known as a moderate,
came under criticism for attending a meeting of that group and not
showing up for the opposition's "march for justice."
Mr. Hightower denied that Shreveport has racial problems any worse than
other cities.
"There's going to be some racial tension in every city across the
country, every day," he said.
"Sometimes there's a sparkplug. Sometimes tragedy is taken advantage of."
The new police chief, Mike Campbell, said the Justice Department is
still investigating the Hudspeth shooting and should issue a report in
60 to 90 days. He said most of the crime in town, like crime in cities
everywhere, is a socioeconomic issue. Much of it is drug-related, and
the crime rate goes up and down with the economy, he said.
Chief Campbell said he sees Bishop Caldwell's gesture as an opportunity
to network and mend fences.
"It has been the talk of the town," he said. "I've heard pros and cons
about the idea. But I think it was an effort on his part to network with
the white community. I see it as very positive, as far as opening lines
of communications."
Some people didn't think it was appropriate to pay people to come to
church, he said, "but if that's the way we have to open things up, I'm
not opposed to anything."
'Glad to be invited'
"I would feel guilty accepting the money," Tricia Ward said after one of
the first services at which money was offered. "But I was glad to be
invited. That's what it took to make me feel at ease."
Bishop Caldwell said he paid $945 from his pocket, although he recouped
part of that through donations from visitors and members. He said 125
whites visited the church in August. Only one couple – who had recently
moved to Shreveport – joined, he said.
"The $5 deal and the $10 on Thursday sustained them for the month of
August," he said. "The Lord blessed them the last week with a permanent
job. ... That's the stuff that miracles are made out of."
Dr. Tom Hood, a sociology professor at the University of Tennessee and a
board member of the Society for the Study of Social Problems, said
Bishop Caldwell's actions point out a problem that has been written
about since the 1930s: that the church is a conservator of cultural
values and the most segregated institution in society.
"The most segregated hour of the week is at 11 on Sunday morning,"
Bishop Caldwell said. "This is not about $5. It is a way to force people
in this community to take a good look at ourselves and begin to change."
Glynn Wilson is a free-lance writer based in New Orleans. The
Associated Press contributed to this report.
|