John Worrell: Churchman

Retirement from active ordained ministry gave John Worrell the luxury of time to pursue fully a vision he had held for many years. John wanted to provide a dialogical forum through which Episcopalians could express a diversity of viewpoints on important church matters in such a way that they could also gain appreciation for those with differing opinions and perspectives. Moreover, he had developed a particular passion for breaking down polarizing environments in which church members were afraid or unwilling to disagree and would not talk to one another across the lines of conflict.

John grew up with an understanding that not only was there more than one side to any issue, but that mutual respect for differences was essential for the wellbeing of people. His birth and boyhood years in his mother's home town of Eagle Pass, Texas, thrust this view on him from his earliest days. There were two sides of the Rio Grande, one Mexico and one Texas. Residents of Eagle Pass and Piedras Negras worked hard to establish happy relationships with one another. On the U.S. side, Anglos and Hispanics took for granted differences in languages and cultures but depended on each other, often sharing in each other's language and customs. In addition, his mother insisted that he learn more than the then standard Texan version of history taught in public schools. She presented an alternative reading of the Anglo-biased Texas history course in the seventh grade. Even so, the influence of the dominant popular view was so strong that he was shocked by the title of Carlos Eduardo Castaneda's The Mexican Side of the Texan Revolution, which was on her shelves.

After his family moved to the tri-cultural city of Corpus Christi, his mother modeled both respect for those who were different and conscious rejection of stereotyping and prejudice. In days when racial integration in Texas could scarcely be spoken of, she met with leaders in the local black community and tried her best to break down divisions. One example comes from her taking John and his siblings to a black church one summer to assist with Vacation Bible School. One day, when his mother asked about a particularly beautiful song that the African Americans sang, the minister said it was the "Negro National Anthem," -- Lift Every Voice and Sing. Reflecting on how there could be two national anthems -- and why -- aroused John's awareness on the depth of the racial divide in this country and the mistrust and conflict that flowed from it. With that awareness came a commitment to reconciliation.

John's experience with the Episcopal Church, in which he was baptized as an infant, also added to his appreciation of the breadth and richness of human experience. The evangelical vision of church life was predominant in the Diocese of West Texas, but John developed a special appreciation for the Anglo-Catholic tradition as well. He grew to see two aspects of life in the one body of the Church.

Once ordained, John worked for reconciliation of the races. He supported integration of diocesan camps. At his second cure, in Beeville, Texas, he learned to frame the question as one of whether race or baptism would define membership in the Church.

In 1959, he came to the Diocese of Texas to serve at Beaumont's St. Matthew's Church and as Chaplain to students at Lamar State College. Shortly after arriving, a young black college student was confirmed in St. Matthew's Church. This new Episcopalian took part in sit-in demonstrations seeking desegregation of lunch counters and public facilities. A dangerous impasse threatened as city officials resisted. On the strength of their pastoral relationship, John went to a critical meeting about the crisis. Unexpectedly, he was designated as an unofficial emissary for the black protesters to business leaders and City of Beaumont officials. Along with other local clergy from both communities in the city, he aided a process that achieved a measure of justice in a peaceful manner. He came to know, practically, the reality that people with differing views could meet to reason with one another and find a good and peaceful agreement.

Similarly, after moving to Houston in 1965, he worked with an interdenominational, multi-racial group of clergy which was informally named the "Crisis Commission." They met regularly to build community and trust, strategizing how to avoid the violence and race riots that were spreading across America. Their strategies were opening conversation, learning to appreciate those on the other side, and finding the leverage to bring feuding parties together enough to at least prevent tense situations from getting out of hand.

John sought to use Autry House, which housed his ministry to students at Rice University and schools within the Texas Medical Center, as a meeting place for such gatherings. He passionately promoted processes that would put people with different perspectives at the same table, working to better understand one another. He labored to bring diversity into that holy place, seeking to sanctify it through reconciliation and understanding.

When John retired in 1990, he turned this energy and all his experience toward a venture that would promote his long-held dream. In the first issue of Nevertheless (NTL), he introduced his vision for "an independent publication within the Church" focusing on "church life ... moral choice, and ... the way church decisions are made and carried out." John wrote that he didn't want to waste time "expounding among those who already agree," favoring "a real conversation, requiring a certain intellectual rigor, as well as charity." Fearing a rising tide of "theological extremes" that offered "essentially a cannibalistic vision, a future of gnawed bones," he espoused a broad Anglican view that would not tolerate doctrinaire expressions, "especially with the implication that those who disagree are either wicked or fools." He invited "thoughtful articles and letters" that would promote Christian discourse while remaining free of "sarcasm, scorn, and ad hominem remarks." Uncertain of where the work would take him and any readers, he based NTL on this passage from Luke's gospel: "Master, we have toiled all night and have taken nothing: nevertheless, at thy word I will let down the net."

At the time, John perceived that the leadership of the Diocese of Texas used diocesan publications to promote one side of polarizing issues. This especially affected discussions about homosexuality, but it also fostered a suspicious and distrustful attitude toward the national Episcopal Church generally. It seemed to him that the expression of contrary views was not encouraged, and he believed that the members of the diocese needed an alternative to the diocesan party line to provide a balance of perspectives. In the early years of NTL, however, the counterpoint it produced led to an unintended reputation as a purely liberal publication. Over the years since then, he discerned, "official diocesan publications have grown more open to diversity, and in important respects the situation is much improved."

More generally, however, with the Episcopal Church at the national level growing increasingly divided and polarized, John envisioned NTL as a vehicle for promoting dialogue on important issues, not only as they affected the Diocese of Texas, but nationally and internationally as well. His efforts to present a diversity of views that might lead to an overall balanced approach were often frustrated, he surmised, because conflicts had deteriorated so far that opposing sides often refused to communicate with one another, except through invective.

Throughout the years, with his wife Vivian serving ably as a one-person production crew, he wrote, edited, and succeeded in attracting sound articles on a wide variety of topics. It was a labor of love for them and others who joined the NTL cause. In 2007, perceiving it was time for new leadership, the Worrells put out their last issue. Gratefully acknowledging the support that made possible seventeen years of publication, John wrote these parting words:

We never quite succeeded in providing, as we had hoped, a place where very different views were argued out in "charitable yet rigorous" debate, at least not often. Perhaps the times had already turned to discomfort with diversity and serious exploration of important differences in a shared environment. It is also likely that our willingness, on the rare occasions when it seemed needed, to question the wisdom or fairness of our Bishops gave us a partisan reputation we had not desired ... I hope that our shared concern for the success of the Gospel and the welfare of the Church will continue and grow. And, of course, we will share as well an interest in the next chapter in the story of Nevertheless!

Later, in an interview, John amplified his hopes and concerns. In retrospect, he said it was much harder to build the "conversations" to which NTL had been dedicated than those who founded the magazine had expected. In his experience, people willing to seek out those who disagree, so they might broaden their perspectives and understand "what the other guy thinks," are quite rare. Nevertheless, as he looks to the future he has a level of hope, a prayer really, that the Spirit will so move us that his dream can be consistent with reality.

As the spirit of NTL finds its continuing form, John remains hopeful that it may by some means and with new leadership become more successful in stirring up a diverse body of significant articles for thoughtful church people. This could raise the standard of civility and promote an awareness of and appreciation for the views of what lies on the other side of individual perspectives. He believes that such a successful venture will promote healing and understanding among the members of a church he loves completely.