LOVE IS THE WAY: A personal reflection by Barbara Presnell

On that particular Sunday at Grace Episcopal Church, the bishop was coming to confirm new members and preach. Born and raised in the Methodist church, I expected a visit by the bishop to mean one more yawn-inspiring sermon that went on too long while my stomach growled in anticipation of the chicken dinner awaiting me after the service.

I was a new Episcopalian, drawn to the church by members who treated me like I was one of them on my very first visit and, I admit, drawn to its traditions and rich liturgy and, yes, to all the kneeling, which my husband referred to as “aerobics.” To me, it seemed, well, reverent.

I was in for a surprise that Sunday, one that would shake my experience of “church” and open me up to a new way of understanding God’s place in our world.

The Right Reverend Michael B. Curry, Bishop of the North Carolina Diocese, the governing body of the central third of our state, processed behind the acolytes with their candles and crosses, behind the choir in their white and black robes, sporting the tall bishop’s triangular mitre on his head and carrying a shepherd’s crook. He seemed to be walking the pages of a centuries old text, but when he stood to preach, he removed the mitre, stepped away from the pulpit, and began to talk about what matters today.

I don’t remember the readings or the specific topic of that first sermon. What I remember is spoke to me, without notes, as though I was the only person in the room. He was eloquent yet folksy, a learned storyteller who could move in and out of dialect and language with ease. He spread his arms wide, the cloth of his robe waving, flowing. His wide smile often tightened with concern as he paced, back and forth, in front of the altar. I was spellbound. I couldn’t not listen.

All my years of turning my attention away from what I knew to be a boring sermon suddenly shifted. I was hooked. He was the only black person in a sanctuary of whiteness. Did he feel his difference? How could he not?

What I do remember is that he talked about love in a way I’d never heard before. And he talked about Jesus. He talked about God’s presence in this world we live in, and he made God matter right then and there.

Did he shake my hand afterward? Yes, I remember he shook my hand. I had never been so moved by a sermon. I carried his words throughout the next week and the weeks that followed.

From that Sunday on, whenever Michael Curry would make his annual visit to Lexington, I made certain I was sitting in a pew to hear him. I was pleased but not surprised when he was appointed the Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church of the United States, the first African-American to hold that position. I’d no longer hear him preach in the Grace sanctuary, but I knew he’d carry his message to the world. I didn’t know how his life would continue to impact mine, a white Southerner living in a white tradition.

Then Harry and Meghan got married, and in an unprecedented move, they invited the presiding bishop to deliver the sermon. I and the rest of the nation, lo, the rest of the world, tuned in.

“We must discover the power of love, the redemptive power of love,” he told the family and guests of the royal couple, quoting Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. “And when we do that, we will make of this old world a new world.”

“Love,” he said, underscoring the word by lowering his voice, “is the only way.” He stunned the British royalty that day with a sermon that went too long and some say upstaged the bride. His robe again moved as he moved, his words weaving from folksy to formal. Even though he directed his words to the young prince and his bride, he spoke to everyone.

And, one more time, crossing continents, he also spoke to me. So, when Grace Episcopal chose to study and discuss Curry’s book, Love is the Way: Holding on to Hope in Troubling Times, my interest was natural and strong. In this study group, we’ve been learning his life story which is filled with struggles I had no idea he’d endured: the early death of his mother, his legacy of slavery (his great-grandmother was a slave) and sharecropping; his family’s flight from a prejudiced North Carolina to a more welcoming New York; his public challenges in a political world; and his commitment to love no matter the circumstances.

The 27th Presiding Bishop of the Episcopal Church Michael B. Curry is the same man who stood in front of the altar at Grace Episcopal preaching love, using the same voice whose words entered my skeptical heart that first sermon day. But years have passed, and instead of getting better, it seems things in our society have gotten worse.

So, how do we begin to address problems that plague our world—racism, violence, gender identity phobias, bigotry, prejudice, hatred, poverty, war, hunger, and more and more? How can we care for others, especially when we don’t like them?

In his book, he offers practical steps, the kind of steps that often elude us as we ask, “What can I do?”

He has a plan. He has a way.

“Love is the way,” Bishop Curry says. “Love is the only way.”

“Imagine 50% of everybody doing this, and being successful even half the time,” he writes. “Politics, business and commerce, religious life, and community would be transformed.”

In his own words, we could make of this old world a new world.

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Grace Episcopal Church will sponsor a community discussion of Bishop Michael Curry’s book, Love is the Way: Holding on to Hope in Troubling Times, on Thursday, Jan. 19, at 7:00 in the Parish Hall. All are invited to participate in person or via zoom. The zoom link is below:

https://us02web.zoom.us/j/82867001079?pwd=dmhVVHljY09kS29MZnpnN3J5MHZxZz09

You don’t have to read the book to attend.

Please contact Barbara Presnell (bpresnel@triad.rr.com) or David Inabinett (dinabinett@bwspllc.com)

for further information or questions, or call the church office at 336-249-7211.