My childhood is littered with memories of different kinds of church services. I grew up as a military kid, and on top of that, my dad was a chaplain. This often meant that we attended whatever chapel service that my dad was assigned to. Sometimes, those services were the typical contemporary service–not much fanfare, three to six worship songs, a sermon, and a little potluck or fellowship at the end. And then, when I was 8, we moved to Nebraska and my dad was assigned to what the Air Force calls the “Gospel Service.” This was quite a change to my family’s normal Sunday routine! At the Gospel Service, church often started with praise and gospel-style music that was full of joy and life… and often went longer than anyone planned. People from the congregation gave testimonies. Sermons were passionate affairs, and they were interwoven with musical interludes from a Hammond organ. It usually wasn’t until around 2 or 3 PM that we would all break from the service for a potluck that frequently lasted through the evening.
A few months ago, I was vividly reminded of my experiences at the Gospel Service. My friend Kennasha (one of the midwives with My Sister’s Keeper) asked me to photograph the pastoral installation service of her husband, Lorenzo at Mount Gilead Baptist Church. Attending this service reminded me of what I want in a church community.
Church is fans waving and hands raising. Church is a child sleeping on her mother’s lap. Church is music you feel deep in your soul. Church is the laying on of hands and the giving and receiving of prayer. Church is the symbol of handing the microphone to a newly chosen pastor, knowing the weight of responsibility he’s accepting. There’s nothing quite like it anywhere else.
That’s my kind of church service too!! Beautiful photos; I almost felt like I was there with you.