< Previous page

"Bill Finlator's value, in great measure, lies in the fact that he makes you think," one of those friends, former UNC President Bill Friday, said when Finlator retired. "He stirs people where they need to be stirred."

Finlator acknowledged that he enjoyed doing the stirring. "I'm not afflicted with overweening humility and self-effacement," he once said. "On the other hand, I can't do the things I have done and avoid publicity. When you speak on issues of great concern, that is the time for vigorous statements, not namby-pamby mutterings."

When a church board member asked Finlator whether he preferred a photograph or a painted portrait at his retirement, he replied, "How about a stained-glass window?"

Over the years, Finlator was the target of pickets, hate mail and midnight telephone threats, none of which deterred him.

"In my dreams, I wanted to be something the Bible called a prophet," Finlator said last year. "I wanted to be the kind of person that read deeply and tried to relate the prophetic words of the Bible to what is happening in the world."

Though his political views might have been more palatable in the more liberal enclaves of New England, Finlator never forsook North Carolina or his independent Baptist nature.

Because of Finlator's controversial sermons on racial and social injustice, his became a familiar name in North Carolina and beyond. From behind the pulpit, in the pages of newspapers and in countless protests, Finlator challenged Baptists to reject conventional attitudes and raise their voices against inequities large and small.

The state chapter of the American Civil Liberties Union was formed in his church. He invited the National Organization for Women to meet there. He was chairman of the N.C. Advisory Committee on Civil Rights.

"He was part of a generation of preachers who came out of the progressive-to-liberal stream in Southern Baptist life," said Bill Leonard, Wake Forest University divinity school dean. "They stuck their necks out when it wasn't safe and spoke in ways that gave courage to a great many others."

Forced retirement

At the heart of Finlator's Southern Baptist roots was a belief that people had the right to interpret Scriptures in the light of their own understanding and to speak out when conscience dictated.

Speak out he did. During Finlator's tenure at Pullen, dozens of families left the church, angered by his views.

Concerned that Finlator's views were pushing people away, a committee of the deacon board eventually called their pastor to a meeting. They begged him to vary the subjects of his sermons. Finlator listened. Then he asked the deacons to pray with him.

"Father, I thank you for these good people and the burden they have shared," he said. "But Father, I pray that you will give me the courage to go on preaching the sermons you have laid on my heart, even if every member of the church leaves."

Eventually, Finlator paid a price for his outspoken views. In 1979, he sent a letter to President Carter urging the federal government to put financial pressure on the state university system to more fully integrate. Some church members, many of whom worked at N.C. State, were so angry that they began to push for his retirement. They succeeded in 1982, a year ahead of his original plan.

Still, other church members remained fond of him. He was invited back to preach several times, and Pullen's fellowship hall was named in his honor.

In his retirement, Finlator and his wife Mary Lib attended Binkley Memorial Baptist Church in Chapel Hill, a liberal stronghold.

At home in Raleigh, he read widely in philosophy and classic literature, as well as the leftist publications The Nation and The New Republic. He wrote fiery and reflective dispatches for the religious and secular press. And each morning he made his wife a breakfast of bacon, eggs, toast and coffee.

Last year, Finlator and his wife moved from their home in Raleigh's Cameron Village neighborhood to Springmoor, a Raleigh retirement community.

"She said, 'He loved me, he loved his children, and he loved Pullen Church,' " his son said Tuesday.

In Finlator's final sermon at Pullen, "My Departure Is at Hand," he told his congregation, "I have often been in the fray -- not often enough for my conscience; too often, perhaps, for some of you. I leave you with a deep sense of gratitude and finality."

For the many followers of Bill Finlator, that gratitude is mutual, and now eternal.

* * *

Finlator is survived by his wife of 64 years, Mary Elizabeth "Lib" Finlator; his son, Wallace Finlator Jr.; two daughters, Elizabeth McCutchen of Farmville, Va., and Martha Finlator of Alexandria, Va.; and eight grandchildren.

A memorial service is scheduled for 2 p.m. Friday at Pullen Memorial Baptist Church, 1801 Hillsborough St., with a reception to follow in the church's Finlator Fellowship Hall.

< Previous page