Irhonda's Invitation
I have been in Baton Rouge Headquarters Since the 12th, and inherited the cot in the networking room when Jaime moved from the cot into a hotel. In the evening of September 15th my supervisor looked at me and said, "j'Orel, you need to take a few hours off." He dropped me off at the mall near the Red Cross HQ building. I was hungry for pizza, so went to a walk-through pizza place inside the mall. A young black girl named Irhonda served me, and when she saw my Red Cross ID, she said, "Bless you, I will keep you in my prayers." I asked where she went to church, and she said that she sang in the choir at the Greater New Guide Baptist Church on Fairfields Avenue in Baton Rouge. She invited me to come hear her sing. She said it was only a "stones throw away; only a few blocks".
I would learn on more than one occassion that in the south, stones can be thrown a very great distance. I checked on the city map and the church was, in fact, four miles from the mall and the old Wal-Mart building where the Red Cross headquarters was located. But never mind-- I was determined to attend and hear a real Baptist gospel choir in person for the first time in my life.
So the next Sunday I took a few hours off and drove over to Irhonda's church on Fairfields. The church was an expansive brick building with seven wide steps leading from the sidewalk up to two arched front doors. As I arrived, black families in their Sunday clothes were visiting on the steps before going in to the sactuary. I went in and found an empty spot in a pew up front, to the left. I was the only white person in church.
It was the Sunday that the youth choir sang, and a large group of young people sat up front in the choir loft behind the pulpit. When they sang, they were directed by a very energetic young woman, accompanied by a pianist and a drummer who enthusiastically and unequivocally set the beat. During every song several women around the congregation stood up and rocked and sang with all their might.
It was an amazing experience. When there was music, which was almost all the time, everyone in the church moved, many waving their arms in the air, all synchronized to the beat. One of the women who rose and sang during the songs was sitting next to me, and she reminded me of Aretha Franklin. Wow, could she get it going! Seeing all this commotion during the music made me think about our Presbyterian Church back home, and how we, by comparison, sang our hyms stoically and without passion. We would occassionally joke about how Presbyterians are God's "Frozen Chosen", since we seldom moved or showed any emotion during a service. Between songs, I turned to Aretha and said "If you look at me and I'm not moving during the music, don't call 911-- I'm Presbyterian." She laughed, although I'm guessing I was the first Presbyterian she had ever seen in her life.
The sermon, "Where is your heart?", was an impassioned and sobering treatise on Mathew 6:19, God's admonition to us to store up our treasures in heaven, because where our treasure is, there is our heart. The Minister made many references to Katrina, referring to the recent hurricane as the modern equivalent of moths and rust and thieves. His sermon was puncuated by numerous "Amens!" and other enthusiastic affirmations. I went away with a good intellectual grasp of Mathew 6:19, but as it would turn out, God had something special planned for me later regarding this verse.