Quote:
Originally Posted by Rusty Trichome
The church a man chooses to attend, say's a lot about the values he holds dear.
Were you a KKK member, (a "christian" organization) but you only attend meetings once a month, you would still be a friggin' KKK member. Guilt by association? You bet.
The Trinity United church he attends preaches division, hate, and a doctrine of superiority. Obama regularly attends and supports this church. I doubt that the preacher bites his tongue while Obama is in attendance. He doesn't change his sermons to fit into Obama's image. The values delivered to the congregation via a pulpit of hate, are appalling and racist.
The doctrine of the Trinity United Church of Christ holds dear the same devicive, racist tennents as the Nation of Islam.
Doesn't matter what color, trash is trash.
I agree with you about the KKK point you made, but I do not agree with you about the nature of the Trinity United Church. You say they are like the Nation of Islam. I say they are not. So we will probably have to just disagree on that. I didn't find that message of hate and divisiveness you were speaking about when I checked the link you posted to Trinity United Church. They are proud to be historically black, but I didn't see any hate there.
Quote:
It wasn't until after college, when I went to Chicago to work as a community organizer for a group of Christian churches, that I confronted my own spiritual dilemma.
I was working with churches, and the Christians who I worked with recognized themselves in me. They saw that I knew their Book and that I shared their values and sang their songs. But they sensed that a part of me that remained removed, detached, that I was an observer in their midst.
And in time, I came to realize that something was missing as well -- that without a vessel for my beliefs, without a commitment to a particular community of faith, at some level I would always remain apart, and alone.
And if it weren't for the particular attributes of the historically black church, I may have accepted this fate. But as the months passed in Chicago, I found myself drawn - not just to work with the church, but to be in the church.
For one thing, I believed and still believe in the power of the African-American religious tradition to spur social change, a power made real by some of the leaders here today. Because of its past, the black church understands in an intimate way the Biblical call to feed the hungry and cloth the naked and challenge powers and principalities. And in its historical struggles for freedom and the rights of man, I was able to see faith as more than just a comfort to the weary or a hedge against death, but rather as an active, palpable agent in the world. As a source of hope.
