I am a Presbyterian and in addition to the question of predestination, a belief of ‘what will be, will be’ the denomination is known for carrying out its affairs “decently and in order” as the saying goes. This is generally true for most of the church services I attend. It is no overstatement that as a congregation, we enter into the sanctuary respectfully, are seated, perhaps carry on a quiet conversation with a friend until the music begins then congregational silence prevails other than the singing of hymns and perhaps a responsive reading. Sometimes the members are unfairly referred to as the ‘chosen frozen’ because of their somewhat staid worship demeanor. The preacher is generally the only person who speaks in moderate tones, otherwise the worshipers listen but there is no outward response, ever. I suspect this is true for most ‘traditional’ white protestant churches or at least the ones I know about however there are of
course variations. But I attended services recently, a funeral of a very popular, well educated and a relatively young, promising person, an African American whose services were far from typical from my ethnic point of view. My comments here are made with great respect, but the services were way beyond any worship experience I have ever known.
My friend and I arrived thirty minutes early, we thought for the 2:00 o’clock service but upon arrival we faced a parking lot already filled (literally hundreds) causing us to have to park in a large field behind the impressive church. The entrance to the modern sanctuary already had attracted a sizeable crowd which caused me to think the line was already forming to enter the building. I was mistaken. We were personally escorted into the spacious auditorium and seated at the back; only four pews were then occupied with the remainder marked as reserved. The remaining and waiting visitors all entered en masse on command at the appointed time, marching at the direction of white uniformed ushers, representative of the funeral home. Too, there were several similarly dressed ladies who was present to assist, I assume, those who might show signs of being overcome with grief. The event was choreographed with precision, a necessity because of the
large number of people in attendance, estimated to be nearly 500. A prominent culturally unique dress statement was the hats worn by many of the older ladies.
Meanwhile the music had begun and the 100 voice choir had started to perform with great expression, the clapping of hands and body movements keeping in time with the upbeat amplified accompaniment. I actually could feel the sound waves in the bulletin I was holding. Since the pews were now all filled, chairs were brought in to accommodate those still waiting to be seated.
Those present were occasionally “moved” to participate in the service by singing along with the choir, by standing with arms uplifted and adding their personal response to the words being spoken from the pulpit. This was not done in a disorganized, frenzied manner but as the congregation’s respectful gestures for the time, occasion and place. This church surely follows the biblical admonition recorded in Psalm 100:1, 2 – “Make a joyful noise to the Lord, all ye lands. Serve the Lord with gladness; come before his presence with singing.”
The service was lengthy by my standard but when you consider the number of those who officially participated, its duration was understandable. In addition to those providing the music, there were 7 preachers, 3 ‘friends’ who gave eulogies, a spokesperson from the funeral home, 2 soloist, several visiting ministers and a number of ‘evangelists’ (not yet ordained pastors) who were recognized from the pulpit plus choral selections all culminated with a powerful, emotional eulogy by the charismatic senior pastor of 19 years. This was not the typical Sunday morning 20+ minute sermon. The preacher who gave the physically demanding eulogy was dressed in a white robe and frequently made use of a cloth to manage his perspiration. He used a variety of texts in his remarks, scripture, personal remarks, family memories and a number of familiar hymns that brought about audible responses from those present. The sermon was highlighted by the ability of
the preacher to create in the congregation a gradual emotional response, a crescendo that would frequently erupt into emotional responses from the congregation. This was a familiar sermonic technique he used often and apparently was expectantly well received by his listeners.
Near the end of the service, the ushers came and removed the chairs in the aisle so that the casket might be rolled to the front entrance of the church for the final ‘viewing’ a tradition that I have not witnessed in my funeral experiences. It was nearly 4 o’clock then. In addition to the viewing, there was the final ritual of burial. I assume that by 5 o’clock, the service had been completed.
What mostly impressed me was the feeling of responsive, congregational joy that was obvious to anyone present. For some like me, a white person, it was unusual; for most present, however, it was obviously what was expected, indeed a joyful, predictable occasion. After all, the bulletin cited the event not as a sad leaving home occasion but as a happy Home Going one.
Heaven awaits!
Bill Lee, PO Box 128, Hamer, SC 29547
