LET’S TALK : I spread my wings in church
Posted on Sunday, May 11, 2008
URL: http://www.nwanews.com/adg/Style/225457/
After reading last week’s column about the challenge of choosing friends who won’t embarrass you should you seek a high-profile position, my editor suggested I follow up with my perspective on the black church.
“[Rev. Jeremiah ] Wright mentioned that the attack on him is an attack on the black church,” he said. He feels that since I have been a part of this institution, I’d be a natural to speak about the black church.
Many may disagree as to my qualifications to do such, but hey, I’m flattered.
Funny thing is that for the first few years of my life, I didn’t realize there was a “black” church. Until my parents separated and my mother moved back to Little Rock with my siblings and me in tow, I thought all churches were like the Waynesville, Mo., church I was used to... integrated.
I remember coming here as a 6-year-old in 1968 and being surprised that we were going to attend the “little brown church” not far from our new home, and being even more surprised to see that all the members were black.
Thus began my experience with the black church — the small, country black church in particular. It is indeed a place where Wright-like fiery sermons are delivered — some of which may be considered controversial by some but the majority of which highlight the need to trust in the Lord and govern one’s self based on that trust.
But it’s about a lot more than the Sunday sermons.
The black church I came to know was an extension of home... a place that nurtured and prepared its young parishioners for adulthood. (Well, it certainly did the latter if it was small enough and in bad enough need of workers. And if your mother happened to be one of the church movers and shakers, thought you were more talented than you actually are, and consequently volunteered herself and you for everything that came down the church pike. )
It was a place where you learned to say your childhood Christmas / Easter speeches by memory... or else. It was a place of unofficial recitals, during which a kid plunked the piano, organ or other musical instrument before a captive, not necessarily captivated, audience.
It was a world in which a kid dutifully modeled at fundraising teas after cutting a zillion leafshaped invitations out of green construction paper and inscribing them by hand. It was a place where, during Sunday-afternoon programs, a kid was drafted into serving as master of ceremonies or giving the welcome address or giving the occasion address and / or singing a solo as well as singing in the choir.
In other words, it was a place that trained a kid to be an event planner, speechmaker, diplomat, corporate executive and / or fundraiser — as well as minister, pastor, deacon, deaconess, worship leader, Sunday School teacher, Sunday School superintendent and / or Vacation Bible School principal. In general it trained kids to stick their necks out and be responsible leaders... including those kids who, like myself, once resigned themselves to going through life being followers only.
The black church of my experience remains a world in which the pastor and deacons / elders are just a shout away. A place that serves as the village it takes to raise a child.
It was a place that certainly has its problems — even in small rural churches, people don’t always get along, and sometimes they fail to get along quite famously — but, in general, is a place whose members treat each other like family... and often are anyway.
I’m not sure what my church upbringing would have been like had I continued to attend that integrated church in Waynesville, Mo. But I’ll bet quite a few people reading this grew up in the same type of nurturing and preparing environment, regardless of their church’s racial makeup.
The provision of such an overall environment is part of the true measure of any church. Especially “the” church — of which all of us “church types” are supposed to be a part, regardless of skin color, denomination, doctrine, or the ferocity controversy level of the sermons. Can I get an amen and an e-mail ?
hwilliams@arkansasonline. com