Back in the mid-1980s, I worked at The Charlotte Observer, in one of the most complex and fascinating religion-news cities in America.

Yes, that’s Billy Graham’s hometown. But during the years I was there, Charlotte was one of two or three cities south of the Mason-Dixon line in which there were more church people in another Protestant flock — Presbyterians — than there were Southern Baptists. Of course, lots of those Presbyterians were in churches that were as evangelical as any of the Baptists.

The Catholic diocese was, at that time, the smallest in USA — but ready to boom (which it has).

It only took a few months for me to realize that the city’s powerful African-American churches were not receiving the coverage that they deserved. This was especially true of the powerful, yet very private, Pentecostal congregations in the Church of God in Christ.

I signed up to receive stacks of church bulletins — looking for news — but I always seemed to hear about important events AFTER they had taken place, when it was too late to attend. When I missed a conference about the modern crisis in black family life, I immediately met with a few pastors requesting their help. I noted that they send me press releases about some events (like a program to honor a veteran church usher) but not about conferences of this kind.

Over and over I heard: We really don’t want coverage of negative issues that divide our people.

I thought of this when I saw the must-read Washington Post story that ran with this headline: “Covid-19 has killed multiple bishops and pastors within the nation’s largest black Pentecostal denomination.”

Much of the coverage of pastors who have insisted on holding face-to-face worship services has focused on independent white evangelical and charismatic congregations. Behind the scenes, there was a larger story taking place. Here is the overture, which is long — but essential.

The Church of God in Christ, the country’s biggest African American Pentecostal denomination, has taken a deep and painful leadership hit with reports of at least a dozen to up to 30 bishops and prominent clergy dying of covid-19, the disease caused by the novel coronavirus.

I do not go out of my way, as a rule, to praise the religion-beat work of one of my former students in the old Washington Journalism Center (which has now evolved into the New York City Journalism semester at The King’s College).

But it’s time to break that rule.

I say that because of a feature story by Katherine Burgess — a name to watch on the religion beat — that ran at The Memphis Commercial Appeal. The headline: “Bishop Mason built COGIC out of revival, the faith of former slaves.”

In roughly 40 years of religion-beat work, I know of no organization that is harder to cover than the Church of God in Christ (COGIC). As a result, this massive Pentecostal flock receives way less coverage than it deserves. I don’t think the denomination’s leaders are hostile to the press (although I have encountered one or two who were), but they certainly do not seek out the attention.

How many news-consumers in West Tennessee, white and black, know the history of this important institution or even know that it is based in their region? Thus, Burgess needed to start at the beginning, with the story of one man:

He preached in living rooms, in the woods and in a cotton gin.
When he returned from the Azusa Street Revival speaking in unknown tongues, Bishop Charles Harrison Mason was followed by just 10 churches out of more than 100 in the split over the theological disagreement.
Today, the denomination founded by Mason, the son of former slaves, is the largest Pentecostal denomination in the United States, with more than 6.5 million members.

Washington Post gets inside the painful COVID-19 crisis in Church of God in Christ

From Azusa Street to Memphis: Sometimes reporters have to tell old stories to new readers