Mnimi

5 - Church & The Coffee Belt

I'm sitting in the back pew of a Southern Baptist Church, surrounded by women in bright dresses and big hats, and men in somber suits and shiny shoes. Me, I'm wearing vintage corduroys and a blue t-shirt with white lettering that reads COESXIST using different religious symbols from around the world. I'm really starting to realize how I should have put more thought into the outfit. 

They're all dancing, singing a song to Jesus with their hands are up in the air their feet stomping around. I'm sitting down, hoping nobody notices. I tried to make the people around me remember that I'm unable to stand up because of a stomach condition, but these people aren't distracted at all, so the memory wouldn't go in. Instead, I think they just became suspicious of me, because ever since I tried it they've been giving me these weird sideways looks.

I really thought they'd be distracted with the singing and the dancing. I guess despite all the action, their thoughts are all focused on one thing - Jesus. I was never big on the whole Jesus thing. I get the appeal, I suppose.

Got lots of deep, dark shit hidden in your closets and need someone to talk to about it without feeling judged? Bam! Jesus.  

Feel like everyone hates you because you're no good at anything and your parents and teachers always told you you'd never amount to much if you continued to live that way, so you really wish there was someone who loved you no matter what you do? Bam! Jesus.

The list goes on.

I don't know. I guess it all sounds a bit too good to be true. Maybe it's because I've seen too many people's memories - you know, the scary dark stuff - hidden under layers and layers of Jesus Loves Me memories, and typically what ends up happening there is that much of the dark scary stuff, unable to surface under such weight in their conscious minds, instead just burrows itself deep into their unconsciousness where they no longer have to deal with it directly.  That's when it becomes part of their worldview, and when it gets that far, it's hard to ever lose it. Lucky me, I'm pretty sure that's what I'm facing here with Timmy's dad. And who knows? Maybe with Timmy too.

"Joshua 1:9 tells us to be strong and courageous, My Friends!" says the Minister, descending from the pulpit and walking down the center aisle. He's loud and full of energy, and his Afrikan accent only adds flair to his sermon.

"It tells us, 'Do not be frightened or dismayed, for the Lord your God is with us wherever we go!"

"Amen, Lord Jesus!" yells the woman to my right.

"Isaiah 12:2 Says that surely!" the Minister trots down the aisle pointing fingers at the ceiling and smiling from ear to ear. "Surely, God is my salvation!"

"Hallelujah!" says a man from somewhere else in the church.

"I will trust!" says the minister, "And not be afraid!"

The choir begins to hum and stomp in unison, and the minister runs back to the front of the church where he joins in on the stomping and adds some rhythmic clapping. The congregation begins clapping with him, so I stand up and do the same. Won't help my cause to be the odd man out here.

"For I know!" the Minister begins to sing and the choir echos his words.

"This I know. (This is know)

That the Lord. (That the Lord)

Won't let me go! (Won't let me go)

He's got plans. (He's got plans)

For these hands. (For these hands)

Make me prosper. (Make me prosper)

Help me stand! (Help me stand)