I Came to Feed and Found Myself Fed

Feeling desperate and forlorn, you finally surrender to the Light-

Declaring ignorance and begging for intervention with your plight.

Supreme Universal Energy grants you forgiveness for the asking, 

And bestows grace upon you for faith everlasting.

You eventually learn the lessons set forth when you were born, 

And gratefully accept the opportunity to begin to transform.

And though you, at times, waiver between hope and feelings of dejection, 

Your soul is uplifted as God assures you of your perfection.

You endured many obstacles having ventured on your own, 

But absolute love has finally brought you home.

~ "Finding Your Way Home", Kim Hilliker

When I woke up early on April 03, 2019, four days before I was due to preach at a FAME Zion Church in Portland and got a text from their pastor telling me that I would be preaching on the topic "Rest" with Matthew 11:28. I looked up at the ceiling and asked God if He was bored or just in a funny mood. I also felt scared spitless for a few reasons; a) I was being asked to preach on a theme that has long been a stumbling block in my walk with my Lord b) I have only ever preached short homiletic sermons (8-15 minutes) and with this congregation, I was expected to give a full-blown sermon (20-30 minutes) and c) I was asked by a few ministry friends if the people at FAME Zion was aware that I am white, an Anglican and a woman to boot.

This was going to be completely new territory for me in all areas. I had never set foot in an African Methodist Episcopal Zion church, knew next to nothing about them except a few things I googled and was disclosed by my friend whose husband is the pastor, and for someone fresh out of Bible college and highly introverted, it was a terrifying opportunity. But, I had to push my nerves aside and get to work. Despite all my studying, contextualizing, praying, and advice seeking, I kept hitting brick walls and writer's block. Upon reflection, I see that I was far too busy trying to create the perfect sermon instead of really reading what Jesus Christ was saying and how it can apply to my life and the lives of the people who would be hearing it. I was also too caught up in my introversion and thinking that while the pastor and his wife like me that it would be a miracle if their congregation accepted me. One of the best pieces of advice I received was from a mentor who said, "If I can teach Muslim men and women in Oregon and Laos, you can teach the faithful at the AME Zion house of God!!" This note of encouragement I took on the train to Portland with me... and an unfinished sermon.

Fast forward to Sunday morning. I quickly finished the final bit of my sermon and carefully dressed in my alb and cincture with a prayer that I wouldn't foul the business up and disgrace God, my friend and her husband, my church, my ministry, as well as myself.

During the final minutes before the sermon, I printed off my sermon, met the receptionist and the two female reverends I'd be sitting on the stage with who prayed over me, and quickly reviewed my notes that I didn't get a chance to practice. Before I knew it, we walked onto the stage and the service began. What I witnessed next I still remember vividly and I think I will always remember the scene. A small group of humble saints singing their hearts in raw, passionate, and joy-filled voices. They clapped their hands and praised God with a fervent desire that I had never seen before. I have worshiped in many different houses of worship in many denominations in the three decades of my life. While I still feel spiritually fed by the hymns, Gregorian chants, and prayers of my church, I found that the praises I was hearing also were feeding a part of me I didn't know I was missing. I didn't know the lyrics but soon my hands were joining in the rhythm. As I gazed out on the worshipers I could feel their love of Christ flowing from them and it brought tears to my eyes. I bowed my head and asked God for His forgiveness for dismissing this congregation before they could have a chance to dismiss me. I realized that despite my best efforts, I wasn't immune to prejudices. I came in ready to accept what I thought would be the kind of dismissal I have received from persons of color that I have received in the past only to receive looks and words of welcome. I had walls drawn around my heart that crumbled like Jericho while I worshipped with the congregation.

Soon, it was time for me to give the sermon that came with me. Anyone who has preached once or many times will tell you that sermons take a great deal of energy. You spend a great deal of time and care in the preparation to make sure the context is understood and properly studied before coming up with a message that preaches Christ's message to others. When you give the sermon, that also takes a great deal of energy. You have to speak the words that God wants you to say, read the congregation and react accordingly, and keep your voice clear with good articulation. Even the short homilies I gave at my parish left me desiring a nap when I was finished. The FAME Zion congregation lent me their energy and gave me the ease to preach from my heart. As I spoke, I felt a burst of energy with every "Amen", "Yes Lord", "Praise God" that rang as I spoke. I could hear passion filling my voice and before I knew it, I ended my sermon in prayer. I was then asked by the reverends to join them at the altar and listened to them consecrate the bread and cups before I went with them to the people where I was invited to hand the cups of grape juice to the people who kneeled in front of me. I had never passed Communion before and it was so touching because I felt like I was part of the body of Christ.

I had the privilege to attend the evening worship the congregation participated in with another Portland church before having supper with them in their fellowship hall. I got to know individuals better and knew I'd be going back to Eugene with a new perspective.

Due to circumstances, my visit to Portland was extended by a week. I got to spend real time with my friend and we had many wonderful discussions on faith, life's struggles, and God's presence. I also got to listen to stories and thoughts of different members of the church. Towards the end of the week, the circumstances in Portland and at home hit me all at once and I broke down in tears wondering if I had made a mistake going into ministry. My friend comforted me and prayed with me before calling one of the reverends asking her to talk to me. That reverend and I spoke for three-quarters of an hour. She told me of her own struggles in ministry, her own road of discernment which helped me to see I wasn't alone. She also told me straight up that she sees my gifts and that God has me where He wants me and while neither of us knows what He will do with me in the future, that He gave me gifts for His purpose. I came to this congregation in hope that I would feed them spiritually and here they were feeding me! The next day after church, that learned lady of God presented me with a gift saying I'd understand why she was giving it to me when I saw it. Later on, I opened the bag and pulled out a beautiful black and gold framed quote from the book of Jeremiah in the Old Testament:

"For I know the plans I have for you" 

Declares the Lord

"Plans to prosper you and not to harm you,

Plans to give you hope and a future"

~Jeremiah 29:11

And she was right, I did understand why she gave it to me. Not only did it sum up her words from the night before, but I also confessed to being a Jeremiah from Jeremiah, Chapter 1. God was calling me but I had all the excuses in the world for why I wasn't qualified for His commission. Her gift touched me because she gave me the message I needed from God at a time I needed most.

On that same day, I went to my second Sunday at FAME Zion and joined the congregation in singing and worshipping with passion and my heart was full with joy and love for the people I have been spending those few days with. Throughout the service and after, I had member after member telling me that they expect me to come back sometime soon and that they consider me a member of their church family. They embraced me, prayed for me, and thanked me for being with them. 

The next morning I packed my bags and got on the train to Eugene. I was glad to be home in Eugene and it continues to be my home where my work and my life is. However, I will always remember those wonderful people with a tender smile and I look forward to reuniting with them in the future. I came to love a people with whom I thought I shared little in common save for faith in Christ. They showed me how wrong I was and were willing to bring a struggling preacher into their own. They say that home is where the heart is. I can truly say that I left a piece of my heart back at First African Methodist Episcopal Zion Church.

c-ya.

ke7ejx.