Monday, Feb. 06, 1984

Jesse Takes Up the Collection

By Richard N. Ostling

A presidential campaign enlists black churches' support

The Bethel Institutional Baptist Church is the oldest congregation in Jacksonville, Fla., with a magnificent organ imported from Germany in 1902. Services for the all-black congregation usually begin with hand-clapping gospel music from Bethel's choirs. But there was a very different service a few days ago. Amid shouted "amens" from the congregation, preacher after preacher mounted the pulpit to testify. "Blacks are God's chosen people," thundered one; "I do believe Ethiopia shall rise," shouted another. Then came the most celebrated preacher among them, Democratic Presidential Candidate Jesse Jackson. Standing under an arch outlined in blue and gold, Jackson delivered his message: "Some of you might not give $1,000, but you're gonna give 1000%."

It is a message that Jackson is preaching to black congregations throughout the nation in what is emerging as the first major presidential candidacy in U.S. history to be built largely on church support. Lacking a large organization and with a badly underfunded campaign, Jackson has turned to networks of black churches for volunteers and money. This support is vital, Jackson told a group of African Methodist Episcopal church clergy in Atlanta last week. "We must translate pulpit power into political power."

Clergy in black churches, who exercise far more influence over their members than is the case in mostly white denominations, consider the cause well worth pushing for, even if Jackson loses. The Rev. T.J. Jemison, the president of the National Baptist Convention, U.S.A., Inc. (N.B.C.U.S.A.), estimates that between 90% and 95% of the denomination's ministers support Jackson. Says Jemison: "Even if he's not successful, he will raise the hopes of young blacks and aspirations of blacks around the country." Los Angeles Baptist Pastor E.V. Hill, who is openly campaigning for the candidate, says that "Jesse Jackson is bringing us together." Jackson has also won endorsements from President James C. Sams of the National Baptist Convention of America and from Presiding Bishop J.O. Patterson of the Church of God in Christ, the largest U.S. Pentecostal body.

Unified church support for Jackson is still far from certain, but the potential is vast. The seven largest U.S. black denominations have nearly 17 million members in 63,000 congregations, and there are millions more blacks in other church groups. Attempts to tap this potent reservoir of support began in earnest last November when Jackson spoke to a Memphis convention of the Church of God in Christ. Since then he has been constantly on the move, giving articulate, passionate sermons in churches large and small, and raising funds in a manner indistinguishable from taking up a collection.

The Jackson campaign desperately needs to translate this gathering support into dollars. To date, it has raised something under $500,000, a paltry sum compared with the more than $9 million that has flowed into Walter Mondale's war chest. There are few large donations for Jackson. Instead, at every church he visits, members of the congregation are asked to come forward with gifts of as much as $1,000, and as little as $20. The technique is working. At the N.B.C.U.S.A. winter meeting in Baton Rouge in mid-January, Jackson told the 3,000 clergy and lay leaders, "I need your help, your endorsement, voter registrations, money and concern." He left the meeting with $25,000 in cash and commitments from prominent pastors to raise $5,000 to $15,000 apiece. Two days later he went on a three-day swing through Florida and collected thousands of dollars more from congregations.

Suddenly, the cash-raising ideas are tumbling furiously from the campaign organizers: an Atlanta workshop to teach church leaders how to raise money; a plan to get black congregations across five Southern states to raise $1,000 apiece on the same day; and a nationwide effort to persuade all members of black churches to donate $20 each in what could be the biggest single fund-raising event in U.S. political history.

The question increasingly being asked is, Just how far can a church go in supporting a political campaign without losing its tax exemption? Black churches have always welcomed political candidates to the pulpit, even before the civil rights movement. But the Jackson campaign represents a considerable escalation in political involvement. Such periodicals as the United Methodist Reporter and the Roman Catholic weekly America, have carried editorials suggesting that the effort for Jackson oversteps the proper line between religion and politics. The Internal Revenue Code grants tax exemption only to religious organizations that do not take part in "any political campaign on behalf of any candidate for public office."

Churches around the country are closely watching a suit brought in federal court in New York by the Abortion Rights Mobilization. It is seeking to bar churches from using tax-exempt funds or facilities to support pro-life political candidates. Washington Lawyer Lee Boothby, an authority on matters of church-state separation, thinks that if the suit is successful it could "make religious organizations much more circumspect."

Black churches are well aware of the problem, insisting that church members are being encouraged to support Jackson only as individuals. "No one, to my knowledge, is preaching 'go vote for Jesse' from the pulpit," insists Noble Sissle Jr., Jackson's Florida campaign coordinator. But enthusiasm can bring churches dangerously close to the mark. At the Baton Rouge meeting of the N.B.C.U.S.A., one pastor proposed that the denomination as a whole endorse the Jackson candidacy. "We can't do that," explained President Jemison, asking instead that members stand and give personal endorsements. As thousands rose to their feet, a smiling Jemison remarked, "We're not breaking any rules as a corporate body." --By Richard N. Ostling. Reported by Joseph N. Boyce/Baton Rouge and Jack E. White with Jackson

With reporting by Joseph N. Boyce/Baton Rouge, Jack E. White, Jackson