I received the email on Tuesday. It came to me and to the others who are either formerly or currently a part of the Empty Hands Fellowship in Franklin, TN. It came with a simple subject line.

“Denny Denson is with Jesus”

I am way too far away to participate in the visitation and memorial service that is taking place as I type this blog. I will just throw in my own memories, and salute to his life from half a world away.

It was sometime in the mid-90’s when I first met Denny. Our church at the time was in a very affluent and white downtown Franklin, TN. It’s not that affluent and white is bad … I just remember at that time feeling that God might have more for our church. So, I crossed the proverbial tracks (well, it wasn’t literally across the tracks … but it was on definitely on the other side of town) and began prayerwalking in a neighborhood that was really quite the opposite of the neighborhood our church was located at the time: poor, not-white (mostly black and hispanic), typical inner-city problems of drugs and alcohol abuse. It was the beginning of a journey for me. At that time I wanted to meet people not like me. It was during one of these walks that I was passing by the “First Missionary Baptist Church” and really felt that I was to go inside and meet the minister. I went into the building and was greeted in the sanctuary with a rather friendly “Can I help you?”. When I explained to the man that I was a pastor of an all white church with a desire to understand integration issues, and how we can work together for God’s Kingdom across racial lines, the man’s face lit up like the fourth of July and he invited me to sit and talk. And talk we did. For two hours. That was a true Divine appointment, and my first introduction to Denny Denson. I remember walking away from that meeting thinking that this was one of the most God-centered men I had ever personally met in my life. Indeed, he still is.

Our relationship grew over the years. Our church eventually changed locations and moved into a building that was on that side of town, and not too far away from his church. Denny was never threatened by that. In fact, he was excited and helpful. He took me with him several times visiting homes in the “neighborhood”. I would just watch and listen as he would masterfully deal with a wide range of people – from young drug addicts and dope dealers to little old grandmothers who would insist we come in for chittlins and cornbread. I was always encouraged when we would do this. I remember him telling me once, after dealing with some teenage boys heading down a wrong path, “I’m going to make a ghetto pastor out of you, yet.” I smile today – because, although I still don’t consider myself a ghetto pastor (I’m not that good), I learned so much from this man of God.

Denny was a spiritually sensitive man. Which could be considered a strange thing, considering that back in the 60’s he was a “Black Panther” quite literally raising hell on Chicago’s south side. Once, while he was sharing his testimony with me, he looked me straight in the eyes and said, “Bernie, there was a day when I would have just as soon have shot you as looked at you.” That makes for an uncomfortable moment, actually. But then he’d break into his smile and say, “But I love you now, brother. Jesus has made me a new man.”.

It was his past experiences as a Black Panther that enabled him to deal so beautifully with the troubled people of his parish. We were prayer walking together one evening and came across a man with bicycle coming out of Strahl Park (a park located between our two churches). The man said something quite unintelligible, and Denny waved his hand at him and said to him quite harshly, “I don’t want to talk to you.”

Okay, I thought. That’s an interesting response.

We walked closer and the man stopped, and said something else that I couldn’t understand.

“You get outta here, I don’t want to talk you.”

I was thinking that maybe Denny was being a tad harsh. It was pretty clear at this point that the man with the bike was quite intoxicated.

The man then said something else, and Denny immediately softened. “Floyd, there you are. You know that I am here for you, and I’m waiting. I’m waiting for you”. Denny gave Floyd a hug, and we went on our way. Denny saw and understood that we live in a spiritual world, with spiritual entities – and that is what was really controlling Floyd. He brushed it away and talked to the person. That was the epitome of Denny to me.

I had the privilege of praying with Denny almost every week. A small group of Franklin pastors would always meet for prayer and fellowship on Thursdays. I loved hearing Denny pray to his “Master and King”. The few times I was able to join him (and others) for fried chicken afterwards, was always a blessing. (Denny loved his chicken!) My only regret is that I wasn’t able to join him more often. He was a man at whose feet I should have sat a lot more while he was on this lonely planet. I still sit at his feet today.

I told Renee’ this morning, that Denny really had a lot of influence in my life. He probably never knew it. Shame on me for not taking the time to tell him. Shortly after our first meeting, Denny invited me to the Franklin Ministerial Association (an African American fellowship of pastors), and there I realized for the first time in my life that I am a white guy. A very white guy. As I sat in the meeting (the ONLY white person there), I realized that this is what minority culture faces every day. All the time. For the first time in my life I really began thinking differently about cross-cultural and cross-racial relationships. I remember discussing this numerous times with Denny. His insights were always forward, timely and helpful. Here I sit today, in a place where once again I am a ‘white guy’ (i.e., not Asian). Denny’s influence spreads from Franklin, TN to Central Asia.

I never knew Denny to be afraid of talking about death. He was always making comments about the inevitability of eternity. I always appreciated that, as well. His comfort with eternity seems fitting today. He’s finally home.

Well, now you’re there, brother. I know your homecoming was even better than expected. I am so happy that you are with the Master. I look forward to the day I’ll be home and can join you, as well.

I seriously hope there’s fried chicken.

Media:

Williamson Herald

Tennessean

In the Studio With Michael Card (Interview with Denny)(MP3)