The Rev. Calvin Hastie shares experiences of his decades of serving God, country and his community

Calvin Hastie's call to ministry began long before the pulpit, the robe or a title was bestowed upon him.

Rather, it began as a young man raised in Sumter's New Bethel Missionary Baptist Church by a mother who was a devoted church clerk for 40 years and his father, a trustee and a deacon, who worked for $42 a week to feed the family in the 1960s. They practiced work ethic by example, a lesson his memory attached to their determination and the dedication of a deacon who could not read nor write but believed in Hastie.

"He was always encouraging me and many other young folks in the church, too. He'd say, 'I see something special in you.' Of course, my attitude at the time was, you don't see nothing in me," Hastie shared with a laugh. "But when I graduated from high school, he was there. When I graduated from college, he was there. When I graduated from law school, this old deacon was there in Columbia, just still letting us know that I'm supporting you and I'm proud of you."

That kind of support - in tandem with the manners his mother instilled in him - took Hastie to heights he had always dreamed of and knew he could achieve but couldn't place on a timeline.

After graduating from South Carolina State, he would serve in the U.S. Army for two decades, rising through assignments that eventually took him to West Point as instructor and then the Pentagon. He would cross paths with Gen. Colin Powell, the then-chairman of the Joint Chiefs of Staff who showed him that compassion in leadership is not optional, it's imperative.

"I met him one time, walking down the hall, and he was just asking me who I was, where I was from. I said I'm from Sumter, South Carolina, and I'm going home because my mother is sick. Six months later, I saw him again, and there are thousands of us at the Pentagon, and he stopped me again and said, 'How's your mother doing?'" Hastie shared. "I forgot about the first meeting with him."

But he couldn't forget the compassion he was shown. Determination, faith and compassion - characteristics Hastie has witnessed in real time by leaders in all stages of his life. And would emulate in the years to come.

After retiring from the Army in 1992, he pivoted to law school and graduated in 1996 before spending a decade with South Carolina Electric and Gas Company in Columbia. His determination provided him with stable work and the best pay of his life. But each weekend he returned home to Sumter, he found himself stewing over what he saw: littered blocks, severed bonds in the community and young people drifting down an unproductive path. One day, his mother cut through his complaints: "Why don't you do something about it?"

In 2006, after moving back to Sumter with no job and no place to live, he opened his law firm and ran for city council. Voters in Ward 3 elected him to council in 2010, and two years later, he was named South Carolina's Juvenile Public Defender of the Year for his work with youth.

From then until now, he has faith in what he knows what his hometown and its people are capable of. He knows it's capable of being clean, which is why he, his wife and several community members can be seen picking up trash on the weekends. He knows it can be stable, which is why he launched an initiative pre-COVID, "Dream Team," in partnership with Greg Thompson to help folks get back on their feet and in a job; about 50% of individuals who went through the program are still employed, Hastie said. He knows it deserves the best, which is why he advocates for the replacement of the Manning Avenue bridge, a new art center, a second phase to a monument to honor African American pioneers of the area.

But with all his determination to be better and his faith in his community to deserve the best, he also knows that he can't achieve anything without compassion - and he'd answer the call.

Hastie's pastoral call came while he was already serving, first as deacon for 20 years, then a licensed minister at New Bethel and then as pastor at St. Matthew Baptist Church since 2019. Six years into this role, he and the congregation are still pushing past comfort and going into the community. The church recently held a service in South Sumter Park, leading residents in the area to step outside their homes to listen to the word of God and the praises being sung. Beyond that, each week a group of men from the "Clean Slate" program, many of whom are formerly incarcerated, attend services. Three have already joined the church, Hastie said.

"We're trying to let folks know that we care for them in that community, and I just think that is so important," Hastie shared. "I think it's just important that we all give back, especially those who God has blessed, and I'm certainly one that God has blessed throughout my entire life. So, I'm going to spend the rest of my days trying to help those I can help."

But if he was willing to go outside the lines of comfort to better his church and his community, he had to do the same for himself. Just before the pandemic, Hastie returned to the classroom, enrolling in Covenant Theological Seminary's local program, attending night classes in Turbeville before sessions were moved to First Baptist Church in Sumter. COVID halted the program for months, and when it resumed, only a thesis and ministry project were left. His project centered on how to attract youth back to church and focused on how traditional methods of teaching the gospel won't work for this current generation. Instead of pages of text, the project was formatted as a guide to be used by congregations, filled with interactive puzzles, quizzes, QR links, short videos and so much more.

"It taught me that you can't continue to do the same thing the old way. We grew up in an old structure. I learned that people, the children specifically, learn differently now," Hastie explained.

This innovative, interactive project earned Hastie the highest GPA in his graduating class in 2025.

With his doctorate in hand, Hastie understands that while his titles have changed, his calling - to care, to respect and to build - has not. There will come a time for him to rest, to enjoy the fruits of his labor. For now, there is a community to keep and a congregation to care for. And as long as he continues to show up, he knows there is nothing Sumter can't do.