Moriah Gonzalez: Church Visit 3

Salem Baptist Church of Chicago

752 E 114^th St, Chicago, IL 60628

October 19, 2015

African American Church

The worship service was energetic and unlike anything that I had been part of before. Women were dressed in their finest and men in full suits. Upon entering, I was immediately greeted by older women who spoke highly of their pastor, Reverend James. This was common throughout my interactions with others; the congregation nearly venerated him. There were large photos of him in the lobby, he was on the cover of the bulletin, and when he got up to speak, the congregation fully expressed their admiration. I have always attended churches with rotating teaching pastors, so this experience was quite different than what I was familiar with. Additionally, my experiences with mega-churches have always been casual and almost impersonal; at Salem, I could not have gone unnoticed. Perhaps this was because obvious racial differences, but it seemed as if members of the congregation went out of their way to welcome everyone, giving it the feel of a small church.

In addition to the congregation’s esteem of Rev. James, the musical portion of worship was exciting. It was led by a worship leader- many times Rev. James- accompanied by a gospel choir that neared 50 people. The congregation seemed to be composed more of women than men, and most women engaged their full bodies in worship: singing, raising their arms, shouting, crying, and dancing. At times, some women had to sit because they were overwhelmed by the music or pastor’s call. This lasted throughout the duration of the service, including the sermon. The congregation was actively involved, shouting “Amen” after nearly every sentence.

The service lasted a good while; the sermon along lasted an hour. This was challenging for me, but not at all for the rest of the congregation. However, the most obvious difference was that everybody was black except for myself. I admit I was insecure about this. Because I felt out-of-place and because I was constantly acknowledging the fact that I was in an African American church, I had an expectation that the church would be repetitively affirming this fact. They did not, which came with much understanding after reflecting upon this. Their community was normal, and they felt the greatest sense of community among each other. There was no need to acknowledge “differences” because among them, there were no differences.

I am more commonly familiar with notions to God the Father and sermons reflecting the nature of the Holy Spirit. Regarding Salem Baptist, there was a significant Christological approach: one that was constantly affirmed. God the Father and the Holy Spirit were mentioned, but the worship songs, scripture cited, and words of Rev. James continuously acknowledged Christ as “Redeemer” and “Savior.” There was no denying that all praise was given to Christ.

Moriah Gonzalez: Church Visit 2

Austin Stone Community Church - St. Johns

500 E St. Johns Avenue, Austin, TX 78752

October 5, 2014

Lower Socioeconomic Class

I went home for a weekend and decided to attend the Austin Stone at St. Johns. I have many friends who have served as volunteers here, and have said wonderful things. The service is a nondenominational church of considerable size for its young age. Nearly everything element of worship mirrored what I am familiar with, except the actual congregation. By way of dress and social interaction, the members could be easily distinguished from my regular context. I found them timid and shy at first, but after approaching many members, they were friendly and welcoming.

Because this was a familiar environment, I felt as if I was able to fully engage in worship, rather than approaching my visit as an ethnographic study. I liked being in a place where I could “predict” what was coming next in the program. It allowed me to focus more on fellowship with others and full attention to the service. Reflecting upon this later, I found it interesting that my level of comfort determined so much of my experience within church.

This church is a branch off of one of Austin’s largest churches, planted in the poorest area of the city with some of the highest crime rates. I found this interesting. The new building stood out amongst the old, dilapidated structures. The church had a myriad of resources that they would not have otherwise been able to afford, including volunteers. This was particularly unusual. The volunteers were obviously of higher socioeconomic status and were not members of the community. This was somewhat off-putting; it seemed unrealistic and almost as if the church community of St. Johns was a charity cause. I initially felt cynical and angry at myself for thinking this way, but after sitting, I was even singled out by the volunteer coordinator. She asked if I was supposed to be serving coffee with other volunteers, and was surprised when I said I was just visiting. It did not seem one. Differences between individuals were accentuated in this environment.

The sermon was obviously catered to the audience, altered from its form in the mother church. It was mentioned many times that God was Provider, and he would meet needs. I had always assumed this but never thought about it extensively. I had always taken this fact about God for granted, as if it was a given that I would be provided for…. Even that I would be the sole provider of myself, divorced from God’s care. This element of worship served as a great reminder of this important truth.