Black churches struggle to blend youth, tradition

c. 2008 Religion News Service CLEVELAND _ A battle between good and evil, God and Satan, is taking place at Emmanuel Baptist Church on Halloween night. In the front of the sanctuary, teenage dancers act out a story of young people overcoming the temptations of the streets. One by one, they resist drugs, sexual advances […]

c. 2008 Religion News Service CLEVELAND _ A battle between good and evil, God and Satan, is taking place at Emmanuel Baptist Church on Halloween night. In the front of the sanctuary, teenage dancers act out a story of young people overcoming the temptations of the streets. One by one, they resist drugs, sexual advances and violence. It is the first night of a weekend Youth Explosion, and a band blasts contemporary gospel music in the church on Cleveland’s East Side. The Rev. David Cobb Jr. knows that many older members consider this type of topic and style of worship too worldly for church. But he also knows that young people want a better balance in church life, from sermons that pay attention to the problems of youth to opportunities for dance, drama and contemporary worship. Therein lies the challenge for many black churches, where aging congregations confront a generation whose music, technology and dress clash with century-old traditions. Nowhere is the struggle more striking than in inner-city congregations. These churches have stayed in the neighborhoods where youth face poverty, violence, drugs and unemployment. But many of these churches find that a majority of their members live in the suburbs. The number of people with decades of ties to city churches and traditions is dwindling. In a generation with fewer attachments to church than any in modern history, relaxed dress codes, expanded musical styles, increased participation in services by young people and the use of video screens and Web sites are no longer merely an option, many black church leaders say. “If you don’t change, you’re going to be obsolete,” says the Rev. Larry Macon of Mt. Zion Church of Oakwood Village, about 20 miles southeast of Cleveland. Cobb said he is challenging “sacred cows” in music and dress as fast as he can. He uses rap singers, praise dance teams and the Youth Explosion to reach young people in the neighborhood around his church. The pastor hears the murmurs from older members who object to jeans and sweat shirts or dancing in the church. But he is committed to building a “blended” congregation of young and old. “I would define myself as a true blended pastor,” Cobb says. “Most pastors are only blended in their minds. When it comes time to put up or shut up, they shut up.” There is a lot of David Cobb Jr. in 15-year-old Brandon Baldwin. Cobb, whose parents divorced when he was 8, found a spiritual and personal refuge in Little Zion Baptist Church in Atlanta, where members rallied around him and his family. When three of the older deacons died, and with them the objections to drums in Sunday services, he became the drummer at Little Zion. Brandon, whose mother died three years ago after a heart attack, finds love and support at Emmanuel Baptist. Under Cobb, he became the church’s drummer. “I love this church,” Brandon says. “Despite everything I’ve been through in the past, this church is the first thing on my mind.” Cobb, 35, and Brandon, who lives a few blocks from Emmanuel, both want to bring in more young people so they can find the same joy in church. The church recently hired a music minister for youth, and Cobb is thinking about adding more contemporary music on Sundays. Among other plans are creating junior deacons and junior trustees so young people can have a say in the spiritual and administrative life of the church. The changes cannot come too soon for Emmanuel’s youth. Jazmine Blue, 16, a member of the praise dance team, says when she tries to encourage her peers to come to church, they say, “No man, church is boring.” “I don’t want to listen to a lot of older people with their old boring songs” all the time, she says. But to older church members, hip-hop and rap _ Christian or not _ represent violence and drugs. The tension is not new. Gospel great Thomas Dorsey, who used the popular music styles of the 1930s to write such church standards as “Take My Hand, Precious Lord,” once was labeled “too bluesy” for the church. What gives the issue of music a special urgency, church observers say, is that one can no longer count on succeeding generations to come through church doors. Pew Research Center surveys found only 14 percent of respondents ages 18 to 29 attended church more than once a week, half the percentage of those 50 and older. In his grandparents’ day, Cobb says, “Everybody went to church. Church was mandatory until you die.” In his mother’s day, that changed to “you had to go to church until you were 18, then it was strongly recommended.” “Today, it’s basically you can go if you want to,” Cobb says. When they do go, they increasingly “church shop” rather than automatically attend where their parents and grandparents went. For those churches who stay in the city, some in sanctuaries that date back 60 or 70 years, it is critical not to let traditions such as suits and ties for men and dresses for women get in the way, many church leaders say. “You don’t have to just have one way to praise him,” Cobb declares to his congregation at the fall youth day service. “We are just happy to see young people today, praise God.” (David Briggs writes for The Plain Dealer in Cleveland.) DSB/DEA END BRIGGS Photos of youths at Emmanuel Baptist Church are available via https://religionnews.com

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