It does not seem like 50 years since I received a phone call one March afternoon thanking me for a New Minister Profile I had published about the Rev. Branan G. Thompson. He had just come to the relatively new Colonial Avenue Baptist Church in Southwest Roanoke County.
People I have written about don’t usually do this though they are quick to point out errors in print. I appreciated this young native of Georgia who had just arrived with his pregnant wife. He had been serving two small Baptist congregations in Halifax County for two years.
It was 1968 at the height of the racial integration adjustment period. Thompson told me in his telephone interview that this had caused some disruption in the conservative Southside Virginia rural communities.
More recently, after his and my paths had crossed many times through mutual interests in Roanoke Valley religious/medical groups, he told me that his departure from Southside was entirely voluntary after the full acceptance of his more liberal views by his church membership. With a growing family, it was just time to move on.
And so, Thompson spent 30 years at the growing suburban congregation at Colonial and Electric Road. He and his late wife, Gay Frith Thompson, had two sons now established in the North. Gay, a graduate social worker, died of cancer early in this century. By that time Branan Thompson had retired after 30 years at Colonial Avenue.
Many changes had taken place in Southern Baptist leadership by 1998 with the “moderate” theological and cultural views of graduates of several seminaries, such as those in Wake Forest, N.C. and Louisville, Ky. being less favored. Before going to the Kentucky school –his wife took graduate social work there—Thompson had seriously considered becoming a professional counselor or a psychiatrist. When he came to Roanoke County he soon became identified with an ecumenical movement in which faith and mental health were integrated to bring about wholeness of a person through relationship to God. Over the past 35 years, there has been less support for this broad approach in Southern Baptist leadership.
Thompson’s ease with people of many religious and social groups –he’s also entertained with magic tricks as a hobby and enjoyed music and drama—led him into strongly supporting the once-influential Roanoke Valley Ministers Conference. His dual interest in healing and theology continues.
So, 20 years ago when he was asked to join the staff of Windsor Hills United Methodist Church as its minister to senior adults, he happily accepted. Now nearing 80 he’s decided to take a second retirement after 50 years as a pastor in the two congregations. He’ll stay at his home near Lewis-Gale Medical Center, enjoy travel with his sons and friends –he’s maintained a small touring service –keep learning. At a meeting of an interfaith group of mostly senior clergy he led a program last year in which they were encouraged to think “what you’d want on your tombstone.”
******************************************************************* Another faith-related organization I’ve followed closely through the years, Family Promise—formerly the Interfaith Hospitality Network—is also marking a milestone this year, its 20th Anniversary. Though not specifically related to Thompson’s ministry, it too is broad-based to offer a temporary home to households with dependents until a bread-winner can get a job
The unique feature about the program is its use of empty facilities at houses of worship where up to 14 persons, mostly women and children, can sleep and get nourishing breakfasts and suppers for a week at a time. Started by a layman at Christ Episcopal Church in inner-city Roanoke, it’s part of a national agency and currently involves about 30 congregations locally including my own in Salem.
If a church building is not suitable for people using sleeping bags or cots in vacant classrooms, it can be paired with one that has the space. The supporting neighbor church supplies volunteers and food for some meals In Salem College Lutheran’s building has room for sleepers while my church is providing some meals, shares in supervising the overnight guests, and offers help with children and transportation. Some volunteers choose to maintain a continuing supportive relationship with a family.
I’ve known most of the several executive directors; Marie Muddiman currently coordinates volunteers and helps market the ministry from a house owned by Salem Presbyterian Church. Now I supply a needed food during the week my church helps, such as peanut butter.
Family Promise operates with definite guidelines. No single men are accepted as they have other agencies for lodging. On the other hand, unmarried couples with dependents may stay together. Nor is the program evangelistic; many who are helped are not active in a congregation and this is not a primary goal. During the day, those who can work are helped in finding a job. Their children, if small, are cared for or taken to the school they once attended.
For church folk who can accept its guidelines, Family Promise has worked well since 1997.
