Religion: Racial Christianity

Said President Benjamin E. Mays, head of Atlanta University’s Morehouse College (for Negroes): “I would tremble for the Christian cause if 50 Negroes were to enter an average local church in this country on a Sunday morning and ask to become members. Fundamentally we are afraid … to practise the Christian religion.”

Dr. Mays’s angry words reflected a new stirring among southern Protestants over the race question. Within the past month two bodies of Southern Baptists—biggest denomination in the South—have faced up to it in two different ways.

Meeting in Savannah, Georgia’s Baptist Convention got ready to vote on the report of its Social Service Committee: “. . . That the Christian people of Georgia be urged to apply the principles of Jesus in a serious effort to allay the growing race tensions so spotlighted by the lynchings in Georgia and the recent Columbians Inc. disturbances in Atlanta.” Up jumped ex-Navy Chaplain Joseph A. Rabun, 39, new pastor of the McRae Baptist Church, where rabble-rousing, Governor-elect Gene Talmadge is the leading lay member. Shouted Pastor Rabun: “That is not strong enough! We need to condemn with all our power race hatred.” Visit with Gene. Goaded by Rabun, who had served in the war with the Marines, the Georgia Baptists surprised themselves by going on record “. . . that all Christian people of Georgia, particularly Baptists, speak forth with every ounce of energy by word, deed and thought against the so-called patriotic groups which . . . claim race superiority which is neither American nor Christian; that we hereby proclaim . . . that no man shall be discriminated against because of race, creed or color.”

Last week, Rabun paid a Thanksgiving Day call on Parishioner Talmadge, who has long played footie with the K.K.K. Reported the new pastor: “He didn’t agree with me, but he didn’t tell me anything to make me abandon my principles. I realize I am in hot water, but I’m prepared for it.”

Much Too Strong. At the 116th annual convention of the North Carolina Baptists in Asheville there was no Pastor Rabun. Pressed for time during their first day’s session, the 1,000-odd delegates rushed through unanimous approval of their Social Service Committee report without realizing it contained the statement that “. . . segregation of believers . . . into racial or class churches is a denial of the New Testament affirmation of the equality of all believers at the foot of the Cross, and alien to the spirit of Christ, the Head of the church.”

Next day, indignant telegrams told them that this kind of Christianity was too radical for North Carolina. Shamefaced, the delegates took it all back.