What Shunning Looks Like, and Why
Every time I sit down to write, I feel overwhelmed by just how much there is to say.
If nothing else happened from this day forward, I could write for years and never run out of stories to tell. There is that much history.
And yet, my family keeps giving me new material.
Just when I think I know what I want to write about next, something else happens—another incident, another contradiction, another story that feels impossible to ignore.
So every time I sit down to blog, my head spins: Do I tell you what happened years ago, or do I tell you what happened last week?
Today, though, I want to slow down and focus on Dad.
It recently occurred to me that many of you reading this know the story of his excommunication, but you may not know much about what his life actually looks like today—where he lives, what he does, the health issues he faces, or just how physically close he remains to the people who no longer speak to him.
Those details matter. Because to understand what shunning looks like in practice, you first have to understand the life of the person being shunned.
His Health
Let's start with Dad's health.
In 2020, Dad underwent open-heart surgery. Initially, he came through the surgery without any major problems. But a few weeks later, he developed a fever, and we learned that his surgical wound had become infected.
He was sent to Emory, where doctors treated him from June through mid-October with powerful antibiotics. The medication would seem to work for a while, then Dad would regress. This cycle continued for months.
Then, at an appointment in late October, Dad was told that after reviewing his cultures, they discovered one had been missed. He had been treated for the wrong bacteria.
The infection was Gordonia, a rare bacterial infection. His treatment was changed, and thankfully, the new antibiotic worked.
But by then, Dad had spent roughly six months on extremely strong antibiotics. Although the infection was eventually eliminated, his health has never been the same.
Today, he deals with significant joint pain and balance problems that make him susceptible to falls. He has braces for his legs and sometimes uses a cane to help steady himself.
Where Dad Lives
To fully comprehend Dad's isolation, you need to understand where he lives.
I pulled up Google Earth so you can actually see it, as it’s important to highlight his proximity to others.
Location A — Dad's home, where my parents lived together
Location B — Beckie Hall Whitaker and Randall Whitaker's home; Randall is the current pastor of JCC
Location C — Lynda Hall's home
Location D — Deidre Martin's home; Deidre is Kay Hall's daughter
Location E — Kay Hall Salter's home
Location F — Brandi and Ashley Hall Salter's home
These aren't people scattered across different towns or even different neighborhoods. Dad is surrounded by them.
They pass by his house several times a day—in cars, on ATVs, on bikes, and on foot. And, yet, they never bother to say hello, stop in or ask how he’s doing.
You might reasonably ask: How can I know they don’t engage with Dad when he doesn’t talk to me?
Because I was raised in this church. I've watched this happen before.
In fact, I watched this same kind of separation affect Dad's own parents, my grandparents, Thurman and Blanche Salter.
One story about my grandmother Blanche has stayed with me for years—she would often stand to see her children drive by in their cars, never able to simply hug or talk to them, often bending over in grief from the sheer pain of it. I can hardly tell that story without crying—this is the kind of cruelty that is born only from evil.
What Does Dad Do All Day
Dad is licensed in water management and monitors water systems for several local schools.
These days, much of his routine consists of driving to Dublin a few times a week to check those systems.
Beyond that, his world has become incredibly small.
And there is another layer to his isolation that I think people outside JCC may have difficulty understanding.
Dad continues to hope that he will someday be allowed back into Johnson Chapel. Because of that, he has every incentive to avoid doing anything he believes could jeopardize his chances of returning—including becoming too involved with people outside the church.
The very hope of someday getting his family and church back can also keep him from building a new life outside of them.
People have asked some version of this question: Why doesn't he stop hoping they'll let him back in and simply go live his life?
I don't think he will. At least not as long as my mother is alive.
Dad loves her unconditionally. And as long as returning to JCC represents a path back to her, I think he will continue holding onto that hope.
And Then Something Occurred to Me
This week, something finally crystallized for me.
I’ve spent the last 6 months trying to figure out how things changed so fast. After hearing in November that he was no longer pastor, I was worried things would go back to the way they were with Dad years ago. But I didn’t expect it to be this severe, this harsh, and this fast and long.
The silly reasons JCC claims got him excommunicated are much too shallow for this kind of treatment. It’s much deeper. Here it is:
I remember being shocked when Dad became pastor of the church, given the way he had been treated throughout his life. Everyone was shocked, my mom and her entire family were not expecting Herbert Hall to say the words “God wants James to be the next pastor.”
God, and only God, made that happen. It’s the only way, the only answer. And I will always believe God did it because he wanted this church on a different path.
But, the Hall Family always resented that appointment. They’ve never been fully satisfied or truly accepted Dad’s position in their hearts. And as soon as they got the opportunity to push him out, they seized it immediately.
But pushing someone who's had pastor status out of the pulpit would not eliminate his influence.. So, they had to go a step further.
And, that readers is why my dad is not allowed to attend Johnson Chapel Church anymore.