One church
African American churches might be known for their audience participation, but this was my first African church experience. Caught between an uncontrollable desire to join in the dancing and self-awareness of my lack of rhythm and grace, I swayed and clapped and barely noticed that three hours had passed.
The Missouri United Methodist Church has a covenant church relationship with Malhangalene United Methodist and its members are more than aware of this fact. Our visiting group of 11 were the personification of the church's financial, logistical and prayer support.
We were the recipients of lavished hospitality and gratitude. Some churches in the U.S. take a few minutes to greet guests and make them feel welcome. They might be asked to fill out a visitor registration card or stop by an information desk for a complimentary coffee mug. Not here.
Several dozen women gathered only a few feet in front of us and danced and sang their hearts out in welcome. You'd have thought we were their long-awaited family. Then they lined us up in front of the church to bestow gifts. Onto our shoulders they hung hand-woven basket bags. The men received woven straw hats. The women were wrapped with capallanas, meters of fabric that serve as a skirts, shawls, baby carriers and limitless other possibilities. And we all received two-cheeked kisses.
After the service the church provided lunch, for the entire congregation. Beans, rice, shima (a porridge of extremely thick grits), cassava, chicken and stewed greens filled the corner of a back room. Dozens of glass bottles of soda lined a guest table where we sat. Everyone else sat outside, in chairs lining the church's walls. I wondered how recently the congregants had eaten, and why grown women held out weathered wrists and unashamedly asked for the fluorescent bracelets we were handing out to the children.
There were not enough bracelets, t-shirts or necklaces to go around. There was not enough nourishment to last the week. But that wasn't why we had come. This was one meal, one trinket, one visit to remind us that we are one church, one faith, one hope, one Lord. Still, I can't help but feel we got the better end of the visit.
The Missouri United Methodist Church has a covenant church relationship with Malhangalene United Methodist and its members are more than aware of this fact. Our visiting group of 11 were the personification of the church's financial, logistical and prayer support.
We were the recipients of lavished hospitality and gratitude. Some churches in the U.S. take a few minutes to greet guests and make them feel welcome. They might be asked to fill out a visitor registration card or stop by an information desk for a complimentary coffee mug. Not here.
Several dozen women gathered only a few feet in front of us and danced and sang their hearts out in welcome. You'd have thought we were their long-awaited family. Then they lined us up in front of the church to bestow gifts. Onto our shoulders they hung hand-woven basket bags. The men received woven straw hats. The women were wrapped with capallanas, meters of fabric that serve as a skirts, shawls, baby carriers and limitless other possibilities. And we all received two-cheeked kisses.
After the service the church provided lunch, for the entire congregation. Beans, rice, shima (a porridge of extremely thick grits), cassava, chicken and stewed greens filled the corner of a back room. Dozens of glass bottles of soda lined a guest table where we sat. Everyone else sat outside, in chairs lining the church's walls. I wondered how recently the congregants had eaten, and why grown women held out weathered wrists and unashamedly asked for the fluorescent bracelets we were handing out to the children.
There were not enough bracelets, t-shirts or necklaces to go around. There was not enough nourishment to last the week. But that wasn't why we had come. This was one meal, one trinket, one visit to remind us that we are one church, one faith, one hope, one Lord. Still, I can't help but feel we got the better end of the visit.
posted by Catherine's Blog at 4:22 AM
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