After Charleston, black churches straddle fine line between security, openness

[cole phelps]

After Charleston, black churches straddle fine line between security, openness

About 30 people, retreating from a humid Tuesday afternoon in Washington, D.C., fill the pews for an early evening vacation Bible study at Allen Chapel African Methodist Episcopal Church. A minister steps to the front of the sanctuary, both Bible and iPad in hand.

“Whenever you’re operating out of a pure and genuine heart, expect God to favor you,” Rev. Ronald Wilson tells the worshipers.

Outside church doors, in the bustle and hum of a neighborhood called Anacostia, police collect evidence in the shooting death of a 31-year-old man, gunned down just a block away a few minutes earlier.

The shooting, although unrelated to the church, serves as a stark reminder of the nation's persistent gun violence that two months ago hit closer than ever before when a white man killed nine people at a historic black church in Charleston, S.C. Now, churches such as Allen Chapel AME must confront their own vulnerabilities without undercutting what lies at the foundation of their faith — an open-door policy meant to create a safe haven in African-American communities.

CAN'T CHANGE THE GOSPEL

The long-standing practice and tradition of the churches, historically at the center of the black community, is to welcome all who want to pray. Anyone can enter the church for a Bible study or Sunday morning services, and that’s how it has been since the first AME church opened its doors in 1787. So when Dylann Roof, the 21-year-old charged in the Charleston shooting, entered Emanuel AME church on June 17, no questions were asked.

After the rampage, however, black churches contemplated whether the time had come to ask more questions when a stranger arrives. Many church leaders remain steadfast in keeping the church open, saying closing the doors would be antithetical to the church’s mission.

“To change the open-door policy would be to change the Gospel,” said Rev. Dr. William J. Barber II, pastor at Greenleaf Christian Church in Goldsboro, N.C., and president of the North Carolina NAACP. “That is not the way the black church has responded historically.”

The church belongs to the Lord, said Rev. Faye Daniels, an associate minister at New Ebenezer Baptist Church in Columbia, S.C. As people of faith, Daniels said they do not have the authority to restrict access to the church.

“The church is a gathering of believers, who are positioned and postured for the sole purpose of drawing people in,” she said. “To close the door and alter the open-door policy would be in total opposition to the whole purpose of the church.”

Short of closing the doors, churches are weighing other options. Since Charleston, churchgoers and leaders said they notice an increased vigilance among their members. It's not quite a sense of fear, they say, but people seem more cautious than they have in the past.

“We’re still deliberate in carrying out The Great Commission, but I think there’s a keen awareness, and we’re more vigilant of our surroundings,” said Rev. Dr. J. Anthony Josey, an ordained itinerant elder at Washington's Allen Chapel AME, referring to Jesus' instruction to his disciples in the Gospel of Matthew to spread his teachings. “Now I think along with the welcome comes an era of vigilance. That sixth sense kicks in now, whereas before maybe we had become a little bit more complacent.”

 

[cole phelps]

STEPS FOR SECURITY

In the weeks after the Charleston shooting, AME leaders distributed a document entitled, “12 Considerations for Congregational Security.” Chief among the suggestions for improving church security is prayer, but the document also calls for creating a security plan and team, improving communication, developing relationships with local law enforcement and securing and monitoring the church’s entrance and exit points

Black leaders also arranged town hall meetings for churches to review safety protocols and connect church leaders with law enforcement officials. Lonnie Randolph, president of the S.C. State Conference of the NAACP, said more than 150 ministers and church members attended a meeting at a local high school in Columbia, S.C., a few weeks after the shooting. They discussed ways to beef up security, such as community policing and improving camera systems within churches.

“Knowledge is power, and we are trying to do what we can to empower churches,” Randolph said. “It was an unfortunate event that took place, a very sad event, but we also know that this could have happened anywhere in America.”

Some churches considered adding metal detectors and armed guards, Randolph said, but those steps have yet to gain traction. Church leaders say such measures are too disruptive and inconsistent with the notion of a church as a sanctuary for worship.

“There has to be a distinction between the church and an armed garrison,” said AME Bishop Gregory Ingram, who is based in Philadelphia. “If every church had barbed wires and guards around it, it ceases from being a church. It becomes almost like a microcosm of all of things wrong in society, not a place with open arms.”

Apart from the philosophical struggle, creating security plans for churches presents more practical challenges than other institutions, said Jiles Ship, president of Homeland Global Strategies, a New Jersey-based public and safety management and security consulting company. Ship, who spent more than 25 years in law enforcement, works frequently with black churches in the Northeast region.

The key for security with churches, he said, is being prepared and trained for all emergency situations including an active shooter, natural disasters and medical emergencies. Ship said he recommends churches establish a safety ministry to coordinate emergency management planning and assess risks.




Most churches, Ship said, don’t have security plans in place, and with roughly 350,000 churches nationwide, statistics on church security measures are not tracked. The perceived uptick in gun-related violence, however, has made churches more aware of the importance of implementing security plans, he said.

“We need to remember that the goal of the church is to reach out to those at all levels of society and to bring them into the church, so we cannot routinely screen out ‘undesirables,’ so to speak,” Ship said. “As church security professionals, we must develop non-intrusive and low-key planning and techniques.”

POLITICAL ACTIVISM REAWAKENED

Although physical security is one approach, many church leaders believe the way to avert violence is to address the underlying injustices that breed it.

For many African Americans, the church forms the center of their community. It is the place from which African Americans fought for their freedom and for civil rights. It is supposed to be a refuge.

"No public place is exempt anymore,” said Rev. Dr. Michael Bell Sr., the pastor at Washington's Allen Chapel AME Church. “Not a theater, not the church, not a school, not a college campus, not a mall. There is no place that is exempt from those kinds of incidents from happening.”

Roof’s actions have put the black church in a familiar position — back at the center of the battle against racism and injustices. When the AME church was founded, it was a leader in fighting slavery, and many churches served as stops on the Underground Railroad. The church also led civil rights efforts in the 1960s, but following passage of the Voting Rights Act in 1965, John Richard Bryant, the senior bishop of the AME church, said some leaders of black churches became more relaxed, as blacks felt race relations had improved.

Now, with the spotlight on police violence and systemic racism, church leaders are calling for black churches to tackle these injustices.

“The safest thing for the church to do is to address systemic racism, the racism that produced Dylann Roof. He wasn’t just a lone person,” said Barber, the president of the North Carolina NAACP. “It was the system and context and racism that produced him. If the church is going to be saved, it has to stand up and challenge that racism, whether it’s coming out of the mouth of politicians or where it’s rooted in the policies that are passed in our political processes.”

Pastor Bill Lee at Loudon Avenue Christian Church in Roanoke, Va., encourages civil discourse. He said he not only wants to have more conversation with his congregants about racial violence at Bible studies, but also with the community at large.

In Washington’s Eighth Ward, where Allen Chapel AME Church is located, Bell, the pastor, focuses on improving relationships among the black residents in the community. But Bell also reaches out to a predominantly white church in Springfield, Va., on issues of race relations.

One thing church leaders discourage: violent protests like the riots and looting in Ferguson, Mo., and Baltimore. The absence of violence following the Charleston shooting, church leaders say, painted a different picture of blacks in the media. Only a few days after the massacre, the victims’ families told Roof they forgave him when he appeared in a courtroom via videoconferencing.

“There was an opportunity for Christians, for African Americans to break the stigma that’s been attached to us when pain and suffering has been inflicted upon us,” said Josey, the ordained itinerant elder at Allen Chapel AME. “We’re not hoodlums in the streets burning up our community. We’re Christians, and this was an act against the Christian community and not just the African American community.”

'ALWAYS A PRIME TARGET'

About a weekbefore the Charleston shooting, a man entered Allen Chapel AME Church for the 8 p.m. worship service. Upon arriving, he ripped off his shirt, and Bell, the church’s pastor, said he appeared to be on synthetic drugs. Bell said he tried to embrace the man but was pushed away. Bell then asked seven of the men in the service to surround the man as a gesture of support.

Bell described the experience as scary, but the service went on, the congregation remained calm, and churchgoers continued singing hymns to God. Bell called police after the service, and they took the man to the hospital.

The man did not harm anyone, Bell said, but he entered the church as anyone is allowed to. Just like Dylann Roof did. It’s a risk that black churches around the nation still take every day.

“It’s important for those of us in the black church to understand that we will always be a prime target to those who want to do evil,” said AME Bishop Reginald Jackson, who is based in Orange, N.J. “Therefore, that’s a reality that we have to face, and a reality for which we also have to prepare for.”