The Black Church

The Black Church

For as long as I can remember, I've had a bit of a harder time identifying with others than most people.  I've always felt a bit... disconnected.  Even when surrounded by loving and familiar people, I've felt a bit of a distance.

The "Black Church" is a prime example.

I was at my friend Tommy's house, and we were just hanging around talking and doing a whole lot of nothing.  Tommy was my best friend, and his mom felt like an extension of my own family.  If I was awake, not at school or not at work, I was most likely with Tommy.  His mother came home from work, and considering WHO and WHAT she was, the tone and subject matter of our conversation changed instantly.  Instead of a particular girl we were both interested in for very carnal reasons, we were suddenly talking about video games.  It's funny how that happens.  WHO she was was Tommy's mother.  WHAT she was was a Bible Believing Baptist who was not so timid as to not literally hit you with the Bible if you strayed too far.

"How about the graphics in that new Need for Speed video game!"

She and Tommy started talking about some folks I didn't know, so I somewhat tuned them out (probably part of why I sometimes feel disconnected from people).  Eventually, something in their conversation hit me that woke me back up.  She said, "They live right next door to the black church."

"Black church?" I asked.
"Yeah, the black church," she answered, as if I'd know EXACTLY the church she was talking about.

I mean, why wouldn't I?  Who doesn't know the black church?  How can you drive past it and not know it?  It's freakin' obvious.  It's...  it's...  why... it's BLACK.

My mind raced.  Fearing that mild humiliation of not knowing the obvious, I frantically tried to recall the black church. Surely, I'd seen it.  Surely, I knew where it was.  Surely... surely... surely I wasn't so oblivious to the world around me to not notice a black building with a steeple!  What am I?  An idiot?


Apparently, I am, was, and always will be.

Of course, she wasn't referring to a building painted black as I had imagined. She was referring to Prospect AME Zion Church.  Prospect AME Zion Church... the church of black people.

I never let on that I was actually trying to remember a building painted black.

I never let on that I didn't know that the term "black church" meant a church where the congregation was all black... er... "African Americans."

I was, of course, ashamed of my ignorance.


Now, I'm 40, not 17.

Now, I'm actually rather proud of the fact that I had no clue.  I'm impressed that my mother raised me in THE SOUTH with no clue of such racially tinged colloquialisms.  I'm proud of the fact that I simply do not care about your race.  Screw you if you do.

The church I attend now is not white... it's not black... It's a rather good reflection of the community in which it's based.  The term "church," when found in the New Testament, is more accurately translated as "gathering of people" or even "congregation."  I like that.

I shall not attend a "black gathering of people," because my pale skin would spoil the definition.

I shall not attend a "white gathering of people," because I doubt I'll ever live in an area where everyone is white, and I'd feel weird in a room full of honkies.

Instead, I attend a "Jesus loving gathering of people..."  and in that respect, we come from many backgrounds and in many shades.