At the peak of controversy swirling around Trinity United Church of Christ last year, Rev. Otis Moss III faced criticism and death threats, questioned God’s plan and even weighed whether he should leave.
“I think there were many points where I felt, ‘God, what are you doing?’” Moss said, reflecting on the year’s events at President-elect Barack Obama’s former church. ‘Here we are in the midst of a major shift, an interesting time in American history, and a church becomes the central focus for a campaign. . . . There were moments when I was just like: ‘I can’t handle this.’”
In his first interview since Obama left the Protestant church on Chicago’s South Side, Moss spoke candidly about how the intense scrutiny on Trinity affected him personally and derailed church ministries. Moss also discussed his relationship with Obama and conversations with the campaign staff about the candidate’s decision to leave Trinity.
Almost immediately after Moss took over as pastor in March, sermons of his predecessor, Rev. Jeremiah A. Wright Jr., sparked a national debate on religion and race. Trinity was vilified and attacked. The church suffered financially and emotionally.
On Sundays, media swarmed the church, pressing members for comment. Protesters parked themselves across the street from the entrance, bludgeoning the faithful with vitriol and insults as they made their way inside.
Security costs for the church skyrocketed to $40,000 weekly, diverting money from missions in Mississippi, New Orleans and nearby Chicago neighborhoods. Church attendance dropped, as more members stayed home to watch worship on the Web. Some expressed doubt about Moss’ leadership. Others, like Obama, struggled with whether they should find a new church.
Now, Moss and the more than 6,500 members of his congregation have emerged from the storm, recounting painful lessons and preparing for the future. They attend church knowing a former Trinity member became the nation’s first African-American president. They now believe the spotlight can be a positive force and are hopeful their faith values might be used to minister to the world. They look to the new year as a chance to redefine Trinity.
“It wasn’t Obama. It wasn’t Jeremiah Wright. It was Trinity that was under attack,” said Rev. Clyde White, an associate pastor who came to Trinity nearly 30 years ago. “I knew we would come out better and stronger for enduring the attack. Now we can accomplish what Rev. Wright wants. We can accomplish what Rev. Moss wants. We can accomplish what God wants.”
Looking back, Moss knew taking over Trinity from Wright would be tough. Elders questioned where Moss, the 38-year-old “hip-hop pastor,” would lead them. Those doubts grew after snippets of Wright’s sermons surfaced on the Internet in March, sullying Wright’s legacy and disrupting Moss’ already difficult transition. Outside the church, conservative pundits bashed the church’s Black Value System as anti-white and hateful.
“No one has ever been asked to transition through trauma and to lead a church that literally has the focus of the world upon them,” Moss said. “There was nobody to call and say: ‘How did you deal with this?’ We were writing the playbook as we went along.”
When Obama decided to leave Trinity, Moss said he wasn’t surprised. The candidate first expressed his concerns to Moss at an Easter dinner in 2007, shortly after announcing his bid for the presidency and rescinding an invitation for Wright to say a public prayer at the event. Obama did not want to cause trouble for the church and suggested then that a time might come when he would have to leave, Moss said.
After the Wright controversy unfolded in March, Moss made a decision to distance himself from Obama.
“As things ramped up, I made a decision that I don’t want to be in between,” Moss said. “I didn’t want to put the church in the middle of anything. . . . All we want to do is be a church.”
As media coverage and church denunciations escalated, Moss hired security and spent more time consoling church members. Those efforts stole energy and resources from other projects that he had envisioned during his first year as pastor. Travel plans to the South were scrapped. A hip-hop worship service for young people failed to come together. A new environmental ministry stalled. The launch of the revamped church Web site was delayed.
At the same time, the pastor’s two young children were being questioned about Trinity at school. The usually laid-back Moss confessed he felt overwhelmed by stress.
In mid-March, responding to outrage over Wright’s sermons, Obama delivered a landmark speech about race in America.
Soon afterward, another Trinity controversy erupted when Rev. Michael Pfleger, the firebrand pastor of St. Sabina Roman Catholic Church, preached a sermon at Trinity in May that ridiculed Obama’s chief opponent in the primary, Hillary Clinton. Six days later, Obama left the church.
With Trinity under relentless attack, Moss said he and church members faced a decision: Should they lash out or turn inward?
Moss chose to turn inward.
Establishing new rules, Moss banned cameras and recorders from church. Reporters required approval to enter. Church members were instructed not to speak to any media.
In that dark period, Moss wondered whether he should return to Cleveland, where he had turned down an opportunity to lead his father’s church. He sought counsel from his parents and his wife.
“There were a lot of late-night conversations,” said his wife, Monica. “I kept reminding him that this was not a hasty decision. God sent us here.”
His father, the civil rights leader Rev. Otis Moss Jr., shared stories about the Rev. Martin Luther King Jr. and how the persecution he suffered led him to consider leaving the civil rights movement.
The young Moss drew strength from those talks.
Church leaders also looked to Scripture. White, the 71-year-old associate pastor, turned to his Bible, anchoring himself in passages that spoke of reconciliation, facing the unknown and trusting God.
“None of us knew how God was working through this,” he said.
In the midst of the media blackout, a renewed sense of purpose began to permeate the congregation. In the fall, Moss unveiled a new “Imagine” theme for Trinity, in which members were encouraged to visualize their ideal church.
Shortly before Election Day, signs emerged that Trinity’s darkest days were done. Moss launched the church’s new Web site and plans were starting for his official installation in 2009.
Younger members like DeJona Hawkins, 16, seemed less discouraged by the church controversy, and instead focused on Obama as an inspiration and dreamed he might someday return.
“I would be happy if he decided to come back because that’s where his motivation came from,” she said.
Longtime member Sadie Triplett, 88, noted a transformation in Moss, and said: “Trials come to make you strong.”
Indeed, Moss said the struggle ultimately helped members accept him.
“People were experiencing such great pain and they had to look up at the pulpit at the person who was too young, not from Chicago—all those X’s next to my name,” Moss said. “That is the person who now has led us through . . . one of the most difficult time periods any church in the history of the United States has had to experience.
“That was a grace moment,” Moss said softly.
On New Year’s Eve, when many black churches observe Watch Night, Moss gave his congregation a preview of his first Sunday sermon for 2009.
“This chapter has closed,” he said. “It’s time to turn the page. God has great things for us. Eyes have not seen. Ears have not heard. A new ministry is beginning.”
Source: Chicago Tribune
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