Living the Gospel

Pentecost 6, Canon Nelson Pinder

July 9, 2023

Fr. Tim Nunez

May my spoken word be true to God’s written word and bring us all closer to the living word, Jesus Christ our Lord.  Amen.

As one of his last official acts as our diocesan bishop, Bishop Brewer set today as a feast day in honor of the Reverence Canon Nelson Pinder, who died a year ago tomorrow. As far as I know, we have no other such designations in the history of our diocese. I expect Canon Pinder will eventually be designated as a saint by the Episcopal Church. That says a lot, and there is a lot to say.

We met when he interviewed me in the approval process for ordination. Soon after I was ordained a few years later, we served together on the Commission on Ministry, the committee that helps the bishop oversee that ordination process. Nelson and I served together on it for eight years, seven of which I was the chair. That’s relevant here because for seven years, whenever I’d see him at a meeting or a diocesan function, he’d hail me in a very loud and booming voice “Mr. Chairman.” And he’d call me when he wanted to discuss a candidate.

I grew to treasure his friendship. He was technically retired when I met him. (I say “technically” because he was active in ministry until he died.) It was such a blessing to have his support and encouragement, his friendship and especially his counsel. Nelson was always looking for the potential in people, including me. I had heard about his ministry for many years, but didn’t really get it. I was stunned when touring the Orlando History Center in 2015. I turned a corner and there was an entire exhibit on Nelson, my friend Nelson.

Fr. Nelson Pinder was an African American priest ordained in 1959. He was called to Orlando, which was of course segregated at the time. And while he served an African American Church in an African American neighborhood, he began to work for Civil Rights, using the peaceful protests and commitment to non-violence as led by the Rev. Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr. He also founded a youth outreach program that was so successful the City of Orlando established a monument to his work with what became known as “Pinder’s Kids,” which stands on a corner by the new soccer stadium.

When I was appointed as Bishop Brewer’s Canon to the Ordinary, which meant I was his right hand and second in command, I learned something new about Nelson. When he had something on his mind and wanted to see me, he didn’t make an appointment. He would just come by the diocesan office. It didn’t matter what I was working on or what I had planned, when Nelson came into the lobby and boomed with his loud voice, “Where’s the Canon?,” my plans were set aside. He would come into my office and we would talk. And he would always drop some wisdom on me.

The very best one was when he came in to talk about a troubled priest. Nelson put his finger on the root of the conflict. He said, “If you don’t love them, and if they don’t know that you love them, you can’t do anything with them.” That is so true.

And isn’t that the Gospel. And isn’t that illustrated in today’s Gospel. I was hungry and you gave me food. I was thirsty and you gave me drink. I was naked and you gave me clothing. I was sick and you took care of me. I was in prison and you visited me. The provision of need is the essence of love, loving God through loving our neighbor. Demonstrating his love opens hearts to receive him.

(Note that Jesus himself needed each of those things at some point. We all do, figuratively if not literally.)

Clearly, Nelson Pinder was a radiant example of living day by day to fulfill this Gospel imperative Jesus gave to his disciples and the Church. I was blessed to see the fruit of that in a particular way.

During my time as Bishop Brewer’s Canon to the Ordinary, I was the diocesan firefighter. When there was conflict or trouble in a congregation, there I went. We had some trouble at Nelson’s former church, where he was still Rector Emeritus. Their rector eventually resigned and I helped them through their search process. It was during those hours of consultation and pastoral care that magnitude of Nelson’s ministry truly dawned on me. I saw it in person, tangible, real, and living.

It was one thing to hear about sit-ins at lunch counters and peaceful protests. But I found the fruit of those efforts in the leadership of St. John the Baptist. A woman on the vestry had been the first African American guidance counselor in the orange County Public School District.  She retired as the head of all guidance counselors in that school district. A man had returned after retiring from a long and successful career as an engineer then executive with the aerospace company Martin Marietta. Another woman had her PhD in Education. It went on and on like that.

One, Mable Butler, was the first African American woman on the Orlando City Council and later the Orange County Commission. She is now 96, and she lives on Mable Butler Avenue. How cool is that? I realized that their lay leadership was amongst the strongest in the diocese.

Because of the Civil Rights movement, and in many of their particular cases because of the specific efforts and encouragement they had received from Nelson Pinder in the name of Jesus, opportunities opened for them. Opportunity is a tremendous blessing, but it only means you get a chance. Then you have to perform. They had. All of them. Every vestry member and most of their lay leadership had advanced degrees and had become leaders in their fields. And they had come out of that segregated and depressed Washington Shores neighborhood.

All of that fruit was planted and tilled for decades by Nelson, for Jesus Christ. Now think about how it rolls forward. Nelson influenced children, youth and adults. They, in turn, became influential. Take for example that guidance counselor who grew to lead all the guidance counselors. How many children and parents did she bless? How many counselors did she coach who then blessed how many more children and parents? Do you see how God works through us?

This is a great story because it is part of the greatest story, the ongoing work of the Kingdom of God, breaking into the world and transforming lives. I hate that we had to have that struggle in 20th century America. It seems like it should have been won a thousand years or more before the first settlers landed at Jamestown, Manhattan Island and Plymouth Rock. Love your neighbor.  It’s that simple, yet it is so very hard to do. And we are still struggling to live it. Always struggling to live it.

And struggle we will, as long as God allows us to draw breath or until Jesus comes and tells us, “It is finished.” And, bye God’s grace, “Well done, my good and faithful servant.”

AMEN