Nate took me to church
There is a difference between attending church and going to church. People attend church every week, but they don't really go to church. Attending church allows you to be seen. You get to shake hands with the pastor, hug the necks of little old ladies, say a few "Amens" during the service and check the box "being seen as a good person" off the list until next week. Walk the walk. Talk the talk.
When you "go to church" or when someone "takes you to church", you hear the Message. You feel the Spirit.
"Big Nate" is an associate pastor at a Baptist Church in Columbiana, Alabama. "Big Nate" is also an employee of mine. The only thing larger than Nate is his Personality. Nate's shoes are a size fourteen. A fourteen. He's a mountain of a man. A gentle giant. The strength of an ox. The gentleness of a lamb. When Nate smiles, there is room for little else to exist.
Big Nate started attending church with his Mama as a young child. He grew up in the very same church where he became a minister. He often invited me to attend service. Today, I finally made it. I planned on just attending the service. Not today. Today,Nate took me to church. I heard the Message. I felt the Spirit.
Nate's church is not like the one that I regularly attend. There is only one way to say it. I'm white. The congregation at Nate's church isn't. I sat in a pew next to a lady that later introduced herself as Nate's aunt. She wore a black and white polka dotted dress. She held a small fan and wafted it back and forth to cool herself. It was hot. The Pastor even commented at one point. "You think it's hot in here? It's a lot hotter in Hell." I felt myself leaning towards my pew mate to catch the small breeze that she was creating with her paper fan. The smell of her perfume was sweet and it complimented the softness of her complexion. Her make up was perfect. We didn't speak at first. We were both uncomfortable. Strangers. Two people with nothing in common. We sat quietly beside each other. I looked straight ahead. She looked down.
I felt the stares of some in the congregation. They were curious stares. Stares that said "Who is this middle aged white man? Why is he here?" I never felt unwelcomed. In fact, I felt wanted. These strangers wanted me there. They didn't say it. They didn't have to say it. I felt it. Nate took me to church today. I was no longer just attending. Nate took me to church.
Why did I wait until now to attend? His casket was large. The smile on his face was larger. Nate took me to church today. Nate was going home. I never heard him preach. I never heard him sing. It didn't matter, because today I got his message. Nate took me to church.
The choir sang. The pastor preached. Nate's aunt grabbed my hand. We said a few "Amens". We wiped away tears. We were no longer strangers. We were family. We were Nate's family. We are God's family.
After the service ended, this lone middle-aged white man walked from the grave with the congregation. I hugged the necks of little old ladies. I shook the hands of strangers. Family. It was a service like none that I have ever attended. Yes, Nate took me to church today.
The pastor spoke with me as I was walking to my car. He was well dressed. I could never do justice to a suit like that. "Nate is smiling because you are here. He would love to have you come back." I looked down at my shoes. I thought of Nate's size fourteens. His shoes were both literally and figuratively too big to fill. It was hot. I was sweating. "What time is the service in the morning?" The good pastor, in his tailored black suit with the bright orange tie, smiled. "11:15, My brother".
Nate took me to church today. Guess what. He's taking me to church tomorrow too. It's not a fancy church. It's old. The carpet needs replacing and the air-conditioner struggles to keep the building cool. The parking area is a mixture of dirt, grass, and asphalt. It's a small church. It's a proud church. It's a welcoming church. It's a church that's just a bit down the road Over Yonder.
When you "go to church" or when someone "takes you to church", you hear the Message. You feel the Spirit.
"Big Nate" is an associate pastor at a Baptist Church in Columbiana, Alabama. "Big Nate" is also an employee of mine. The only thing larger than Nate is his Personality. Nate's shoes are a size fourteen. A fourteen. He's a mountain of a man. A gentle giant. The strength of an ox. The gentleness of a lamb. When Nate smiles, there is room for little else to exist.
Big Nate started attending church with his Mama as a young child. He grew up in the very same church where he became a minister. He often invited me to attend service. Today, I finally made it. I planned on just attending the service. Not today. Today,Nate took me to church. I heard the Message. I felt the Spirit.
Nate's church is not like the one that I regularly attend. There is only one way to say it. I'm white. The congregation at Nate's church isn't. I sat in a pew next to a lady that later introduced herself as Nate's aunt. She wore a black and white polka dotted dress. She held a small fan and wafted it back and forth to cool herself. It was hot. The Pastor even commented at one point. "You think it's hot in here? It's a lot hotter in Hell." I felt myself leaning towards my pew mate to catch the small breeze that she was creating with her paper fan. The smell of her perfume was sweet and it complimented the softness of her complexion. Her make up was perfect. We didn't speak at first. We were both uncomfortable. Strangers. Two people with nothing in common. We sat quietly beside each other. I looked straight ahead. She looked down.
I felt the stares of some in the congregation. They were curious stares. Stares that said "Who is this middle aged white man? Why is he here?" I never felt unwelcomed. In fact, I felt wanted. These strangers wanted me there. They didn't say it. They didn't have to say it. I felt it. Nate took me to church today. I was no longer just attending. Nate took me to church.
Why did I wait until now to attend? His casket was large. The smile on his face was larger. Nate took me to church today. Nate was going home. I never heard him preach. I never heard him sing. It didn't matter, because today I got his message. Nate took me to church.
The choir sang. The pastor preached. Nate's aunt grabbed my hand. We said a few "Amens". We wiped away tears. We were no longer strangers. We were family. We were Nate's family. We are God's family.
After the service ended, this lone middle-aged white man walked from the grave with the congregation. I hugged the necks of little old ladies. I shook the hands of strangers. Family. It was a service like none that I have ever attended. Yes, Nate took me to church today.
The pastor spoke with me as I was walking to my car. He was well dressed. I could never do justice to a suit like that. "Nate is smiling because you are here. He would love to have you come back." I looked down at my shoes. I thought of Nate's size fourteens. His shoes were both literally and figuratively too big to fill. It was hot. I was sweating. "What time is the service in the morning?" The good pastor, in his tailored black suit with the bright orange tie, smiled. "11:15, My brother".
Nate took me to church today. Guess what. He's taking me to church tomorrow too. It's not a fancy church. It's old. The carpet needs replacing and the air-conditioner struggles to keep the building cool. The parking area is a mixture of dirt, grass, and asphalt. It's a small church. It's a proud church. It's a welcoming church. It's a church that's just a bit down the road Over Yonder.
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