Let Us Go to the White Church

Let’s Go to the White Church

It was so funny.  I tell my children that on Sunday, it is not a question of where you are going, but when.

So, I told them I was taking them to Elevation Baptist Church.  I said so because of my daughter.

She is on vacation, and goes with me to the stores.  Dollar General, an elderly black women said, “your looking good, and touched me on the shoulders.”  At Walmart, we were talking so well, she said, my daughter, you better go back and get her number.  Exposure is the problem.  Not being exposed to educated black women from churches and the “Southern Hospitality”.  So, I said, “I need to take yall to a black church again ……. Because I am failing to expose yall to that culture.”  But, the voting came in on Sunday. 

They came up with options.  “NO, we do not want to go to a black church,” they said.  They take too long.  “it is too much”, she said.  So, they ran down the list, and Hephzibah Baptist Church came up on “Their List”.  That was amazing that it was on their lists.  It was definitively not on my list.  

The look.  A person in a wheelchair came and sat next too us.  Then the remembrance of the conversation at Wendell Baptist.  My daughter said, “no I do not want to come here”.  There is nobody like me.  This is all white chicks, she said.  The sandals, the dress, the look, the talk.  “I am the only minority here”, she said.  I am not welcome, she felt.  I told her, that is how I feel when I enter each church.  I am the only one there.  I feel unwelcome.  But I go to make the difference.  I go to be that one to make the difference.  So, she immediately looked at me when she saw the “wheelchair lady”.  She smiled and grimaced.  It was so funny.  Then, she was in shock when the person stood up as the worship leader asked everyone to stand; she said, “ I felt bad”, but she understood the message.  I am, Rey, a loner in all these churches often, churches that are supposed to welcome the elderly and disabled. 

So, I entered the church with them.  I started the count down.  We go to one, and it did not happen.  Nobody was their to open the door.  The promise was, “You come here …… And I will open the door for you”.  The promise was, “We have greeters that will open the door and greet you.” We take the elevator, and their he was.  I inquired up as to the promise he made.  The response was, “they were there ….. you are late”.  So here is the repose, the condition, the disqualifier, the thing that does not make sense; is it not common place for people to arrive late.  Hum. 

No programs, no greeting, “I was late” supposedly.  The experience was still not welcoming and “loving” on visitors.  It was funny because the kids said “black churches are too emotional”.  There is one lady, they said, “that runs around the church screaming ‘Thank you Jesus’”.

The icing on the cake was two things.  My son did one of my maneuvers.  He said, “okay ….. we still got time to go to the Hispanic church”.  This tickled me pink.  This is something I always did when I was alone.  Visit two to three churches on one Sunday  And, he, my offspring, was willing to spend the whole day in church.  Then we, on the way out, counted down, will someone hold the door.  No, plenty of people around the door gathered, and no help, not even the person hidden behind the desk.  THE PROMISE BROKEN.  I drove to the vans, they are still not being used [almost crashed getting to them because people hurrying to leave]. 

The promise broken still.  Except, the broken promise came from the Shepherd.  And now, no programs, no Mary Lou, no smiles, no guarantee to feel welcome.  I looked for a program, wanted to know what was happening at the church, none to be found.  Something is wrong there, not sure what.  Nobody to fill her shoes.  Missed the smile and those expressions of love.  The cohesiveness.  The unadulterated love.  Love without bounds. 

They were happy when they left.  I was depressed due to the broken promises.  Key thing to learn, don’t come late; nuh, shepherds lie too.  God Bless.  

When we were entering, my daughter said, he is counting, here goes the blog, here goes the emails, he is about to piss people off; my son said, he is about to sue somebody.