For years, I asked the Lord to place me in a position to best serve Him and His people. Consequently, the Lord sent me to “The Bluff” at the age of 25.
Upon accepting the call to lead Pilgrim Baptist Church, one of Atlanta’s historic congregations, a dual mantle of shepherd and social justice was thrust upon my broad but untested shoulders.
After surveying the surrounding community, conscience persuaded me that congregational preaching and administration was only half the battle that accompanied the demands of this inner-city pastorate. I soon realized the more daunting task was launching a new pastorate in an area that’s been rejected and relegated to an elephant graveyard.
When they were known as places with black businesses and friendly and considerate neighbors, and anchored by engaged and thriving churches, the English Avenue and Vine City communities were preferred settling destinations for families.
Many community leaders and professional people reared generations of families in homes that have been reduced to aesthetic eyesores on blighted streets. Drug trafficking, gang activity and prostitution are now commonplace. In a community that once housed entrepreneurs, working-class jobs are scarce even for the most skilled laborers.
However, the image of our community seems to be as unfairly tattered as the homes on English Avenue. As I walked the neighborhood streets, I embraced children who only receive meals at school during the academic year. I talked to intelligent young men well-versed in law because of having stood on the wrong side of the courtroom. I spoke to single mothers who were evicted from slum housing.
Upon examining the struggles in our neighborhood, my humanity begged me to ask: Does God care about what happens in The Bluff?
Holy Scripture identifies Nazareth as the armpit of the Roman Empire. Nazareth was so far below pedestrian, it was widely accepted nothing good could come from it. Yet from the ghettos of Nazareth came the greatest example of sacrificial love, unbridled service and transformative power. God cared about all of His creation to the degree that He allowed Himself to be glorified from those reduced to spiritual, political and socio-economic weakness.
Upon this reflection, I realized God cares about what happens in The Bluff, but my church must also care. Meals must be served. Job fairs must be fair. Clothes must be distributed. Tutoring must be available. Counseling must be offered. Community centers must be re-opened. Sports stadium revenue must be evenly dispensed. Quality homes must rebuilt. Guns must be bought back. And above all, the Gospel must be preached.
The mantle of this ministry must shoulder the commitment to not only speak to those worshipping inside stained-glass walls, but also speak for those outside those walls. There can be no joy of neighborhood resurrection separate from the toils of community cross-bearing. If we commit to this labor, something good can come from The Bluff.
The Rev. Eric George Vickers is senior pastor of Pilgrim Baptist Church in Atlanta.
