From my mid-20s on, I had a dream. My dream was much like the Reverend Martin Luther King's, although it was on a much smaller scale Even so, its roots are similar. Let me explain.
I wanted to belong to a black church.
So, just like Dr. King, I wanted to see a World where whites and blacks could freely worship together, a "Beloved Community" of believers. Yes, Dr. King was a civil rights activist, but he was much more than that: he was a follower of Jesus Christ. He spoke of the church's segregation when he stated, "We must face the sad fact that at eleven o'clock on Sunday morning when we stand to sing `In Christ there is no East or West', we stand in the most segregated hour of America."
Pretty darn profound and pretty darn true, both then and now.
Getting back to MY dream, why did I want to attend a black church? From an early age, I loved black music: Motown, Soul, R&B, Gospel. I grew up in a diverse community in South Jersey and I believe that is where it all started. My brothers and I would always joke about being "part black" and I think that is because of the music we loved and the "soul" that we felt in our hearts much of the time. Also, both of my brothers had dance moves that most white men can't pull off.
I think another thing that drew me to black churches was the emotional aspect of it. I'm an emotional person and I loved the freedom of worship, the way black people just, in my perception, "let it all hang out" without being concerned about how they were viewed. If you watch black Gospel singers, whether you agree with what they are singing or not, you will probably be blown away by the freedom of worship and passion on display. I know I was, even before I wanted anything to do with Jesus.
We also grew up with two very Southern parents that had two very Southern opinions on things, if you know what I mean. As kids, we wanted very little to do with those attitudes so I suppose some of our music choices and beliefs were born out of a rebellion against our parents' prejudices.
I remember my dream the most vividly as I sat on the porch of my Great Uncle and Aunt's house in St. Louis decades ago. They lived in a very diverse neighborhood meaning they were in the minority. As I sat there that day, I remember seeing black people walking to church. I don't recall if it was a Sunday or not, but the memory is so alive in my head. As I sat there, I could hear the sweet sound of Gospel music spilling out of the church onto the street. I thought to myself, "God, I would love to be part of a place where I can hear and sing that kind of music. How I would love to attend a black church!" I had dreamed of this many times before, but the dream became solidified on this day.
Years flew by and I pushed the dream to the back of my mind, thinking it would probably never materialize. I started attending anything but that type of a church. Try as we might, and even though we lived in a very diverse neighborhood much like my Uncle and Aunt had, we attracted very few people of color to our local church. Maybe one of the reasons was because our music selections resembled northing like the music I heard in St. Louis that day. But a bigger reason goes back to what Dr. King said; Sundays were the most segregated day of any other.
When that church folded, I needed something new. God led me to Colorado Community Church where I have attended, off and on, for over 14 years. It was the healing balm that I needed after going through a very traumatic church implosion. But it was more than that: it was a black church where I could feel comfortable. Why? Because it wasn't just a black church. It was a red, yellow, black, brown and white church that had the "feel" of a black church.
Our Pastor, Robert Gelinas, is black and is an amazing, humble man of God. He built a church, with a lot of faithful people, into one that fulfilled not only his dream, but a young girl's dream (mine). Knowing that I would be slightly, if not very, uncomfortable in an all black church, he sent me to a church where I can be me. I get to worship God in a very welcoming environment where, I might add, there are Republicans, Democrats and Independents. And I get to hear great black Gospel music regularly, the same type that I had longed for years earlier.
I have also benefited from being with those who are much more free in their worship than I. Every time our Pastor says something that hits a nerve or inspires, there are claps, amens and hallelujahs that boldly ring out and, seriously, always make me smile. I've never been more sure of where I belong on a Sunday morning than at this church.
Is is always easy? Hardly. Do I always agree with everything our Pastor says? Of course not. But what I am determined to do is listen to the difficult things, pray about them and see how God wants me to respond. I have resolved to stand firm because truth is preached and truth will set one free. And, in small way, I feel I am being part of the solution, not part of the problem; our church is a shining example of the solution.
When I think back on how God gave me this desire in the first place, then saw fit to grant it, I'm humbled and amazed. I don't know why because my God is one who longs to give me the desires of my heart. But I honestly never would have seen this coming! Even so, I am grateful.
My blog is about the way I wish things were. While my church is as diverse of one as you will ever see, most are not. Colorado Community Church is definitely breaking the mold by establishing a wonderful multi-racial community. But, for the most part, churches are still one of the most, if not the most, segregated parts of society.
I wish this were not the case; I wish more churches were like ours. The kingdom of Heaven surely will be.