Giving the Devil His Due

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Southern Pastor Works to Deliver His Flock From Credit-Card Debt

 

 

 

The Wall Street Journal | Wednesday, June 12, 2002 | ELLEN GRAHAM

 

NORFOLK, Va. -- Carl and Janice Beaver went to church one night recently owing $10,500 on a slew of credit cards. When they walked out two hours later, they were debt-free.

 

Now all they owe is gratitude to their brethren at Mount Carmel Baptist Church. About once a month the church holds a "debt liquidation revival," a foot-stomping, hand-clapping outpouring of music and financial generosity aimed at lifting members out of credit-card debt. How generous? The Beavers are the 56th family to have been "delivered" from debt since the revivals began about a year ago.

 

In a single night in May, church members not only raised the Beavers' $10,500, but an additional $5,400 to liquidate the debt of another couple, and there was $500 left over for next time. To date, the congregation has wiped out a total of $318,000 of debt.

 

Their feat is all the more striking because Mount Carmel isn't some suburban megachurch catering to the country-club set. It is in a vaguely seedy section of downtown Norfolk, and volunteer security guards watch parked cars during services. The church's predominantly African-American members are mostly under 50 and are drawn from across the economic spectrum. Many are from military families posted at the huge naval base here, home port of the Atlantic Fleet.

 

"The credit-card companies don't like me too well," says Mount Carmel's pastor, 48-year-old Bishop C. Vernie Russell Jr., an imposing figure with a graying, Santa Claus beard who accounts for all repaid debts in a pocket-sized, green notebook. But, he insists, "you can't serve your Master and MasterCard at the same time."

 

To an overextended generation accustomed to instant plastic gratification, Bishop Russell preaches the evils of 20% interest rates and the virtues of saving money and paying cash. At his urging, 1,000 church members have cut up their credit cards, and the shards are kept in a glass urn on the pulpit. People whose debt has been liquidated are asked to donate at least $300 at subsequent revival meetings to help other families.

 

This self-help refinancing project has had a salubrious effect on church coffers as well. As credit-card balances decline, disposable incomes -- and church donations -- have risen.

 

The amount tithed, for example, is up 25% in the past year, according to Bishop Russell. In addition to money collected at debt revivals, Mount Carmel takes in more than $2 million annually to fund operations and community-outreach missions, such as feeding and clothing the homeless. The goal is to have the 3,000-member congregation debt-free, except for mortgages and car loans. "When you do something collectively, it's better," Bishop Russell says.

 

Others' Good Fortune

 

Quivering excitement pulsed through the congregation as members streamed into Mount Carmel's sanctuary on a recent Friday night. The floorboards throbbed with the beat of a brass, drum and keyboard combo. Plump grandmothers in flowered dresses waved fans and handkerchiefs. Dressed-for-success working couples cuddled infants snoozing peacefully through the din. A phalanx of somber-suited deacons huddled before the pulpit.

 

Janice Beaver arrived figuring she'd "have a good time getting someone out of debt." For a year the 40-year-old retired Navy cook has regularly attended debt revivals, reveling in others' good fortune. But, she conceded, "You definitely hope the Lord will bless you too.''

 

Still, she had no reason to believe that she and her 43-year-old husband, Carl, also recently retired from the Navy, would be blessed that night. The bishop never chooses beneficiaries before arriving at church and says he has no special criteria for picking candidates. "The Lord gives me insight as to who should be called," he explains.

 

When the Beavers married two years ago, their credit-card debt totaled $40,000. Since then they have cut up their credit cards, increased their monthly payments and applied a bequest from Mrs. Beaver's grandfather to the balance. In the past year, they've paid off nearly $30,000 while starting second careers. They've also managed to give $200 and sometimes even $300 at each monthly revival meeting.

 

Perched in a pew up front, Mrs. Beaver smiled radiantly as she jabbed the air overhead and clapped in sync with the choir. "The devil is defeated, he is defeated," the congregation chanted. A troupe of young dancers in black T-shirts fanned out into the aisles, and soon everyone was on their feet, elbows akimbo, stomping and strutting. "Stomp, stomp, stomp on the devil!" they shouted.

 

Whoops of delight greeted the announcement that Earl and Lanitha Hudson had been chosen to get out of debt. Elder Ronda Russell, the Bishop's wife, summoned debt-free parishioners to come forward with offerings. "Thank you, Lord, for allowing us to have something to give," she said. "Those who can plant a seed of $1,000 get in line." Behind them came those offering $500, then $300, then $100, on down to those who gave small amounts. People wrote checks as they waited in line. Small children clutched dollar bills. The deacons collected and counted the contributions while the pastor snipped credit cards with large shears.

 

Finally, the good news resounded: "The Hudsons are out of debt!" the pastor shouted. A tide of joyful noise swept the sanctuary.

 

"We have $7,000 left," Bishop Russell announced. "It's time for somebody else -- Brother and Sister Beaver!" Janice Beaver gasped and sank down in her seat, as friends rushed to embrace her. "We need $3,500 more," Bishop Russell said, as people dropped checks and cash into a basket. "Here's $500. Here's another $100, $200," he shouted. The music swelled and people leapt to their feet. "We need $600 more. $182 more. $141. ... $36. ... $31." And then: "The Beavers are out of debt!" The choir and congregation sang out, "We got a victory!"

 

The next day Mrs. Beaver still felt like she was "floating on clouds," she says. "You would never think people would give so much to someone who isn't a relative. Some I don't even know. But they were there to help me like I was there to help them."

 

During Bishop Russell's 19 years at its helm, Mount Carmel has grown from 35 to 3,000 members. Three Sunday-morning services are needed to accommodate the crush. It was overcrowding that indirectly inspired him to begin the revivals.

 

'People Were Hurting'

 

How could he ask his congregation to support a new-building fund, he wondered, when so many struggled to pay their own bills? He remembered his own worries as a young father of three, juggling a mortgage, car payments and furniture bills. "A lot of people were hurting, but they hadn't complained and nobody was aware," he says. Some were in bankruptcy, others were in danger of losing their houses.

 

Turning to the Scriptures, he read in Acts about the early Christians who shared what they had with each other. The notion of following their example "was something the Lord placed on my heart," he says. He presented the idea of debt liquidation at worship the following Sunday. "The first revival was the hardest," he says, because there were no previous beneficiaries pledged to help the others. Still, that day $5,600 was raised. The biggest debt the church has tackled so far was $21,000, raised over three successive days.

 

Church members whose debts are erased bring their bills to Bishop Russell after the meeting. He goes over the figures, initials the statements and gives them to a church trustee who writes checks to the creditors.

 

Those newly freed from debt must attend a seminar on staying solvent. Then the pastor meets with them periodically to see where they stand. So far, he says, there have been no backsliders. "Once you get that weight off your shoulders, you never want to go back," says Mr. Beaver.

 

Still, money being the temptation it is, isn't it possible some people have joined the church simply to get their bills paid? Bishop Russell doubts it -- for one thing, the church hasn't had a sudden influx of new members since the revivals began. And every beneficiary has been a member for over a year.

 

He concedes that some members probably are growing impatient waiting their turn. But he points out that if a family is $8,000 in debt at 19% interest and is paying off only the minimum every month, it will take 55 years to retire that debt. "If it takes the church two years to get around to them, they are still 53 years ahead of the game," he says.

 

If current trends continue, everyone at Mount Carmel should be out of debt in another year's time, Bishop Russell estimates. He has told his flock he will be the last to be called for debt liquidation because, he jokes, "You guys will have so much more money then."

 

In fact, he says, he pays off the full balance on his single American Express card each month.