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Guest Column

Joy envelops a guest of this little church

By JACK BRAY
Published December 31, 2006

A smile can be fetching, a laugh can be infectious, but joy is contagious.

Recently, an African-American friend of mine invited me to attend a Sunday service at his church, Bethany Christian Methodist Episcopal Church in Clearwater.

It was there, on a beautiful, bright, blue-sky morning, that I saw joy. If you've ever seen it, you know what I mean. And here's the best part: You catch it. You are indefensible against it. It overwhelms you. You are suddenly joyful.

This is a small congregation. As a Catholic, I'm used to throngs of people at Sunday Mass, so a smattering of people at a small church is a dramatic change for me. But their joy filled the place.

The service lasted 2 1/2 hours. That's right, 2 1/2 hours. The last time I attended a Catholic service of that length was, well, never. (Good Friday doesn't count because the tradition is that Christ's agony lasted three hours.) No one knew that I would be attending, so this was not a special show for me. It was, my friend told me, the "usual."

As soon as I pulled into the small parking area, I was welcomed. Granted, I was the only white man in attendance, but sensing my possible discomfort, everyone made me feel that I belonged. Great feeling. First hint that joy was living there.

Inside, I first noticed the piano player and the drummer practicing quietly. Their choir, I guess, of three young girls and a boy was singing softly. Everything about this church was small or few. Except the joy that each possessed. That was big. Huge.

The centerpiece of the service was the pastor's sermon. She based it on names and how they don't really mean a thing because, she said, "God knows who you are and is always there with you."

Writing about this preaching does it no justice. You really had to hear the passion in her voice. It brought everyone, one by one, to their feet, praising Jesus. Jesus, mind you, not her. Yes, it reminded me of all the movies about revival meetings in tents. But this was in a small church in Clearwater with a small congregation, and I was there.

Her sermon lasted a little more than an hour. Unless someone is a clone of the late Bishop Sheen, a Catholic priest who preached for an hour would hear about it from his parishioners. Trust me. One-hour "homilies" just don't happen. And, yet, she held my attention and used no notes for all that time. She seemed like, as I told her later, God's Energizer Bunny.

It was an extraordinary experience. How nice that it happened at this time of year when Christ brought joy to the world, a joy that I felt in a little church in Clearwater.

Jack Bray is a retired broadcasting executive who lives in Dunedin.

[Last modified December 30, 2006, 22:17:44]