Formative Church Visit - Ninth Street Community Church

I was not always excited about worship as a child.  Still, when it came time for our family to make its monthly trip to Saginaw for worship at 9th Street Mennonite Church, I was ready.  It was not so much for the Sunday School because the teacher often kissed my face.  My attraction to Ninth Street was the way they expressed so much enthusiasm for praising God - it was so different from all my other experiences of church.  In my my memory still plays the recordings of people offering spontaneous prayers, constant sermon affirmation ("Amens" and "Yes, yeses") and testimonies of God's goodness from the congregation.  The memories may be over-sentimentalized. Yet, there is something in me that longs to worship in a congregation that that believes their participation is essential.  It wasn't until I was in high school that it occurred to me that the Ninth Street Mennonite Church was predominantly African American.

On Sunday, I was full of anticipation as BJ, Andy and my Mom and Dad drove to Saginaw for the worship that begins "sometime after 11:00 a.m.," as we were told.  We parked in the back of the building like we always had, but then decided to enter the building in front since we were, after all, guests.  "Oh come on into the sanctuary, there's still some time left for Sunday School," we were told, so we did...awkwardly aware of how out of place five white people were finding seats mid-way through Sunday School.  The teacher stopped teaching and the class of about twenty turned and applauded - just their way of saying "welcome."

Immediately following Sunday School ("sometime after 11:00 a.m.) the reunion began.  A number of people from Delores to Pastors Bill and Rex, to my former Sunday School teacher Geneva came over to say hello with handshakes and hugs.  Geneva claims it was her sister Grace that liked to kiss my face when I was a child, but I really think it was Geneva since she went down the row of us kissing each one down to Andy (he seemed uncomfortably ok with it).

With a little Sunday School report and music, worship was underway and we were all called to join in.  As typically ill at ease I am with being vocal and physically active in worship, at Ninth Street the worship atmosphere is naturally hospitable.  The theme of Bill's sermon ("If God makes sure birds have enough to eat, what do we have to get all worked up about") matched my memory of the congregation's focus.  Clearly, this is a congregation whose financial picture has been set in the frame of a rusting city, so Bill's statement that  "the rich people have as many money worries as the poor" called us all to recognize the care of God in our lives.

There is a rich stream of gratitude flowing through this little congregation.  They exemplify the healthiest people I know, whose lives express a deep gratitude for everything and everyone that has reached across a boundary and border to enrich and embrace them.  Their gratitude is offered to God for every simple grace in life ("I thank God for the gift of living another day") to appreciation for relationships with other people.

Thank you, Ninth Street Community Church for your witness to me of life lived with a faithful God.  Thank you for offering the way of following Christ to your community as shown in the welcome of Michael, a new believer, on Sunday morning.  May the peace of Christ sustain you and strengthen you as a community of the Gospel of our Lord.