One Sunday I overslept and missed the regular Protestant service, but there was another one. "Gospel Service" at 10 hundred.
Jesus wanted me in church, so I went.
It was a black service. No white people at all.
Except for one skinny, pious, white boy.
I was ushered in to a back seat, the only one open, by the back wall.
After the worship service, yes, a very black worship service, but no, not like the one in the Blues Brothers, the minister gave a sermon about personal responsibility that has stuck with me ever since.
"I get people come to me...ah...they say...pastor! I need money...ah... for my children to eat...ah..."
He suddenly stops and leans on the pulpit and says, in a conversational voice:
"But you had enough money to buy those fortay faaave dollar jeans dincha!?"
While we often self segregate, and if thats a choice it shouldn't be disparaged, its not good if you can't, or profoundly feel you can't, mingle.
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branchandroot
no subject
Date: 2006-08-26 06:53 am (UTC)That meant, every Sunday I went to church.
One Sunday I overslept and missed the regular Protestant service, but
there was another one. "Gospel Service" at 10 hundred.
Jesus wanted me in church, so I went.
It was a black service. No white people at all.
Except for one skinny, pious, white boy.
I was ushered in to a back seat, the only one open, by the
back wall.
After the worship service, yes, a very black worship service,
but no, not like the one in the Blues Brothers, the minister
gave a sermon about personal responsibility that has stuck
with me ever since.
"I get people come to me...ah...they say...pastor! I need money...ah...
for my children to eat...ah..."
He suddenly stops and leans on the pulpit and says, in a conversational
voice:
"But you had enough money to buy those fortay faaave dollar jeans
dincha!?"
While we often self segregate, and if thats a choice it
shouldn't be disparaged, its not good if you can't, or profoundly
feel you can't, mingle.