My Early Story - (2)

 

A Little Church in NW D.C. - PART ONE

 

Howard Wall's church was in Seat Pleasant, MD, too far for me to travel. I did visit Howard one weekend and attended his church, which was Southern Baptist - some of my best friends are Southern Baptist, no kidding. They had a visiting preacher that Sunday and his message was from Matthew 23. I recall Howard commenting about the fact the preacher used the RVS, which meant nothing to me at the time.

 

I visited the local Presbyterian Church in Georgetown by going to speak to an associate pastor. He gave me a booklet which explained the church year, church symbols, vestments, and the like. I'd only been reading the Bible for a few weeks, but when I realized that he didn't know where the Lord's Prayer was, and I did, well that sealed the deal - I thought the Lord's Prayer was probably more important than vestments and symbols.

 

I visited a Baptist Church in Georgetown, it was a communion Sunday. The folks were gracious and invited me to take communion - I guess that was my first communion come to think of it. They were all elderly, which was neither here or there to me in terms of age, but it was all rather subdued.

 

There was a cashier at the Food Mart who invited me to her church. I first went on a Wednesday night. I must have taken the bus, or maybe I rode with her, I can't remember. After the prayer meeting the pastor, Walter Veasel, drove me to the apartment I shared with my Dad on Wisconsin Ave. I returned on Sunday.

 

It was a little church, and other than the pastor's children I was the only one under 30, and I'm not sure there were many under 40. I guess there weren't more than 40 people on a good Sunday. They were old time Pentecostal - of course I didn't know what being Pentecostal meant anymore than I would have known what being a Seventh Day Adventist meant. I knew about the Washington Senators and NY Yankees, and I knew who in my old neighborhood were Baptists, Presbyterians, Catholics, and Methodists, and I knew that my classmate Donny Rothenberg was Jewish, but beyond that Pentecostals were like a hockey team to me - I'd never seen ice hockey and didn't know the rules.

 

The excitement was great on Sundays, the exuberance intoxicating, and the praying...well I'd never heard praying like that - not that I'd ever heard much praying. The people were serious about religion. More importantly, they welcomed me as best they knew how.

 

I often think back to that little church when I read the latest and greatest ways to reach youth. That church didn't have a youth program. It didn't have good music. It didn't have anyone my age. But those people welcomed me as best they knew how and I came back. We make things too complicated.