Recently, Steve spoke with Rev. Dr. David Latimore, the Director of the Betsey Stockton Center for Black Church Studies at Princeton Theological Seminary. His teaching and research interests focus on the intersection of religion, race, and economic justice.
In talking with Steve, Rev. Dr. Latimore describes his transition from a successful career in investment management to a calling in theology and ministry.
You’re working on a book about the economic history of the Black church and whether it has been more influenced by economics or theology. So, tell me why you delved into that and why that was an important question.
I spent the first fifteen years of my career in investment management. And so was deeply steeped into economic thought, finance, and all of the permutations of that particular industry.
And later made the transition to a more direct and robust engagement in the life of the church. Oftentimes, ideas that were born out of the economic sphere were present in my thinking without my acknowledgement. As an example, I pastored the church in Joliet, Illinois for a number of years.
When I arrived there, I probably asked a question that is not unfamiliar to many men and women who serve in pastoral roles. What will success look like? And immediately, I said, well, we grow the congregation, and we grow the tithes and offerings, which was the primary source of funding for the church. And so much of my thinking was really reflective of a business model. Nothing inherently wrong with a business model, but a business model requires theological interrogation, and that’s what was missing.
And so, the work that I’m doing around the economic history of the Black church is first to simply tell the story, to what degree have economic phenomenon throughout the years influenced the identity and the praxes of all churches. But particularly the African American church because our history is so replete with examples of economic deprivation that often renders us more susceptible to the pursuit of economic progress.
So, every church has some temporal practicalities to deal with. Have you come up with a way to measure so you can be sure you’re leaning to the spiritual side of that equation and not so overburdened by the economic aspects?
Absolutely. So, there is no question that we are all bombarded both at the individual and at the institutional level with real material concerns. And ignoring material existence is itself its own danger. So, within the African American church, we have the language around this worldly perspective versus an otherworldly perspective.
This worldly is singularly focused on the concerns of the material existence. And the otherworldly is the perception that all our answers will come to us in the sweet by and by, and that has its own challenges. So, no question that we’ve got to deal with both eternal and temporal, both material and spiritual. We are each required to both be responsive to material needs that we face, but to not surrender our higher ideas to simply material existence.
Oftentimes when those decisions come up, the decisions are quickly made. We’ve got to have heat; we’ve got to have air. We want people to be able to come and attend our church. So, let’s expand the parking lot. Reasonable expectations of a church. But do they represent our highest priorities? Should I always pick places over people? Should I divert resources from the care of others to simply expand the parking lot?
I’m not suggesting that there’s anything wrong with that kind of careful deliberation, but what I hope that churches will do is always wrestle with these questions. And not simply privilege the infrastructure over the people that we’re called to care for, or the community in which we operate, because those concerns can take over.
I think it was Gandhi who said there are some people so hungry, the only way God can speak to them is through bread. You can’t really be concerned with the spirit if you are so desperate just to preserve your own life. So how is economic justice tied to people’s spiritual lives?
Well, I think you’ve rightly quoted Gandhi and really spoken to the core issue. Within economics as an example, we see a phenomenon toward being asocial. And asocial simply meaning that we privilege the focus on the individual over community.
We understand what baskets of good give us the highest satisfaction, and oftentimes we prioritize individual satisfaction over any communal investment. Except where the communal investment works to the benefit of the individual. The gospel that we pursue is very different. It thinks of communal first and foremost. What can I do for others?
And so, what does that look like when we come together in these communities of church? How do we demonstrate a faith beyond our own agency and a commitment to the care of others? So economic justice requires me to look at the broader context and say, can I be successful?
Can I be satisfied if the men and women who walk by my church every Sunday or Monday through Friday are going without while I enjoy so much?
How does, or does this even tie in with this phrase that I hear about the prosperity gospel?
There are challenges within the African American community because of the history of socioeconomic deprivation. There has been a real responsiveness to this idea that our faithful service to God will result in our material prosperity.
There is certainly a substance of truth there. I serve a God that can and often does answer our needs. What I want to suggest, though, is the notion that God [can] prosper us even if our material existence suffers. So that prosperity is not simply defined or tied to material existence. We believe we have a God that, though I suffer, God is there. It does not mean that God is unconcerned when material conditions are working in disadvantageous ways to human existence. It simply means that I cannot define the God that I serve or the gospel that I believe in and measure its impact simply by how well I’m doing.
And for me, that’s not just theology, that’s been my own journey. I grew up in a relatively impoverished community. I did not realize that I was impoverished until I got to college, because I had what everyone else had.
Because of that background, when I went to college, my thought was, well, I’ve been poor once. Let me not repeat that. And I started in management consulting, moved to investment management, and experienced the material success that comes with that. But at a certain point, I started to serve vocationally as a pastor in a small church in St. Louis. I quickly realized that to be smart is not the same as being a good pastor and that I needed additional training. I had a conversation with my wife, and we made the decision that we were going to step away from the investment management arena, and that we were going to pursue theological training.
And it proved to be the best decision that I’ve ever made for both me and my family. We learned some things about our God and ourselves that have enriched our lives in profound ways.
I wonder if you’d walk us back just a little bit to the home you grew up in and the role that faith played there.
So, both my parents are deceased, but their presence and their spirit lives with me. I grew up in a very religious home.
My parents were not formally educated. Both had some elementary school experience but hadn’t gotten much past that. But both them and the extended family were deeply steeped in their faith. I grew up with Bible quizzes and learning large passages of scripture, and it proved to be of tremendous value.
By the time I was on my own when I went to college, like most students, I exercised greater liberty in the activities that I was engaged in. But there was always a constraint. There was something about the way in which I had encountered God in my youth that helped me. And so, I’m incredibly grateful for that upbringing and the knowledge of the word, which obviously as I became a pastor, became invaluable.
You talked about the way you had encountered God as a young person, and how would you describe that? Was it just a sense of presence or a strong belief? What was that for you?
I can look back at multiple times through my life where God has been operative and present, but I didn’t always recognize it. And it wasn’t until later when I looked through a different lens, I could see the way that God operated. I, like most of the young folk in my church and my surroundings when I was approaching graduation, was planning on enrolling in the Marine Corps. My mom was a typist at the government center in St. Louis. She was, as mothers often do, bragging about my academic performance, my son has done so well, etc. A woman who worked with my mom recommended, well, you should have him take the ACTs and SATs. I wasn’t planning on doing that, but something about her presence really influenced my mom to say, you ought to at least try it.
And having taken the exams and having done well, she then encouraged, well, why don’t you consider college as well? It had never been on my radar screen. My parents didn’t go to college. Many of the folks in my church hadn’t gone. But it was that woman’s presence there that planted the seed.
It still required me to do my part, but I can’t ignore the fact that God was always there providing. So, I can look back on my life and I can identify God’s careful presence, developing things that have richly blessed me much later on.
I’m wondering if, because you can look back, you see the hand of God. Did that prepare you for when you felt this change to leave your profession and to go into ministry?
Yeah, I certainly believe that it was a call. Our ability to hear from God is often sharpened in moments where it requires sacrifice. It is in the moments where there’s something at stake that I think can often increase the acuity of our spiritual listening to the voice of God.
I think that our trust in God was not guaranteed. There were lots of doubts along the way, questions that we raised. But ultimately we decided we were going to bet on God, and not our own ability. And that in part was the result of the upbringing that I had. It was in part the result of the help that I had through my wife and family. And it was in part the result of just God’s Grace in surrounding us with folk that provided a good influence for us.
So, again, in ways big and small, I see too many places where God has been present and I celebrate that.
This transcript has been edited for clarity and length. Listen to the full interview at https://www.byuradio.org/episode_296.
Also, listen to an extended interview on the In Good Faith YouTube channel:
Steven Kapp Perry, host of the In Good Faith podcast, talks with believers of all walks of faith. This podcast aims to highlight the personal experiences of believers, collecting stories of hope and inspiration.
Art by Joseph Vorst (1897-1947).
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