When Jerry Holsopple visited Los Angeles in 1992, he wasn’t there as a tourist.
The renowned videographer decided to put his life on hold to travel coast to coast in wake of the Rodney King riots, a reaction to the acquittal of four police officers from excessive force charges. Holsopple spoke to those trying to keep the peace, unearthing the stories he believed the mainstream media wasn’t covering.
On his way back, Holsopple met an American man returning from Bosnia — a country in Southeast Europe that had just entered a war of its own. After exchanging stories of their experiences in the violent regions, the man invited Holsopple to meet members of the Immanuel Mennonite Church. The church didn’t even have a building at the time, but this new congregation, in Holsopple’s eyes, understood the oppression people faced around the globe.
“I met people that actually cared about what I was working on, because I worked on really hard and difficult subjects and I wanted a place that could integrate trauma and the reality of the world into what they believed,” Holsopple said.
Holsopple is a professor of visual and communication arts at Eastern Mennonite University in Harrisonburg. He teaches his students to wake up to the realities of the world and recognize the injustices people face every day, just as the congregation at Immanuel does. While he may approach teaching a video-editing course differently than sitting down with his fellow choir members, he carries his values on his sleeve wherever he goes.
As if his students need any reminder, the sign sits right outside his office — a symbol of inclusivity during a time when he believes the country severely lacks it. On his walls are photographs of the people who’ve made him into the man he is. These individuals are from countries all over the world, from Lithuania to Poland and Bulgaria to Costa Rica.
For one project Holsopple is working on, his goal is to fill a wall with photos of some of the more traumatic places he’s visited, such as Holocaust sites in Europe, calling it “The Remnants of Hell.” As the photos run along the wall, however, they’ll transition to photos of those influential figures in his life.
Twenty-three years after first meeting the congregation, Holsopple is still at Immanuel, playing in the choir and alternating between instruments ranging from the mandolin, guitar and banjo to the ukulele, bouzouki and hurdy-gurdy. He even released an album, “But Until Then — We Will Dance,” alongside fellow members of the church’s choir in 1999.
On Easter each year, Holsopple leads the music for the church service. He writes monologues from the perspective of those who witnessed Jesus’ crucifixion, including both the people who were there as well as others who might not even be talked about such as Pontius Pilate’s wife.
Call him a little biased, but Holsopple believes music is the best way to preach to a congregation.
“I think we have way too many sermons in church — don’t tell my pastor — because I think the sermon is not always the best way to communicate,” Holsopple said.
However, his musical talents aren’t the only way Holsopple has assisted the church.
As local Mennonite churches began posting the “We're glad you're our neighbor” sign in front of their buildings, requests started pouring in to have the sign written with other languages. Bucher enlisted the services of Holsopple, who digitized the sign and helped organize their production on a larger scale.
As the sign continues to spread its reach, Holsopple isn’t pausing to pat himself on the back. His name isn’t even on the sign’s website and frankly, he prefers it that way. He just hopes the message of the sign doesn’t get lost in all the fuss.
“In life, we sit around conference tables trying to figure out the big strategy: ‘How are we going change this?’ and we don’t even show up,” Holsopple said. “I don’t feel like I’m a genius or super special. I just show up and I try to care for people, I try to listen — and things happen.”