I knew Zion Temple First Pentecostal Church was going to be outside of my comfort zone (most weeks of this experiment have been), but I have been concerned that my visits are actually fanning the flames of bitterness and resentment I feel toward other Christians. That was not one of my original goals. I figured a Pentecostal church is about as far away from my personal ideology as I can get, so this Sunday was sort of a test. Am I really maturing through this process? Is God really softening my heart? Or am I just full of hot air?
I knew Zion Temple was a predominantly black church before I arrived, but I didn't realize I would literally be the only white person in attendance. (I estimated there were about two hundred people total.) That didn't bother me, but I definitely stood out, which made me feel like everyone was watching me, which made it a little awkward. I encourage all church leaders reading this book to visit a church way outside of your comfort zone at least once a year to remind yourself how newcomers feel when they walk into your building.
The entire service lasted two hours and fifteen minutes, and much of what I saw was familiar. Worship, an offering, a message. But the whole experience felt like church on crack. Not necessarily in a bad way. The worship was amazing. So loud, so much energy, and so moving. Tastes vary, and that’s great, but Zion Temple had my kind of worship.
Tithing was interesting. Instead of passing a collection plate, everyone formed two lines and walked up front to drop their offerings into a box. It was interesting how much accountability this created. If you stayed seated, people knew you didn’t tithe. I began my visit in the balcony, so I got a free pass. About thirty minutes into the service, I decided to join everyone else down on the main floor.
And it was just in time.
It’s hard to explain what happened before the pastor began his message, but it was wild. First, a couple of ushers walked down the aisles and passed out paddles. For fanning themselves? Was it some worshipping device? Do they spank the bad kids? No idea. Then, all holy broke loose. People jumped up and down, and danced, and screamed at the top of their lungs, and … it was chaos. Attending a Pentecostal church is a workout. One woman literally waved her arm the entire service. Over two hours of arm waving. If I raise my hand for ten seconds, my muscles burn.
It was hardcore worshipping. I tried to capture some of it on video (because there really are no words to explain it), but I couldn’t get my camera out in time.
The thing about Zion Temple was that everything felt genuine. I don’t think anyone was putting on a show. They actually record the service and broadcast it on public television (times are listed on their Web site if you want to watch the service next Sunday), so who knows how much of what I witnessed was spontaneous and how much was manipulated for television.
Of course, not everyone stood and jumped around. Lots of people sat quietly in their seats. Just like any church, there was a mix of personalities and preferences. The pastor’s message definitely had lots of energy, but I had a hard time following him. Often, it just seemed like he was screaming to get the congregation fired up. I think his overall point was that God builds our faith through daily tests so we’re ready for life’s big tests. He used the story of Abraham to help make his point.
Near the end of the service, Zion Temple had a baptism (using their super-cool baptismal), an altar call, and time for one-on-one prayer.
A few things stood out:
1) In Pentecostal churches, “Amen” is like a period. They literally say Amen after every sentence. Even during the announcements.
Next week we are having our fall picnic. Amen. We need someone to bring potato salad. Amen. And cornhole sets. Amen. Directions are posted outside on the bulletin board. Amen. I hope it doesn’t rain. Amen. Anyone want to carpool? Amen.
2) Two seats in front of me, a woman breastfed her baby during the service. Ewww …
3) I love old, black women who wear amazing hats to church. I wanted to take pictures of every single one, but that might have been rude. It seems like such a fun ritual to bust out your newest, loudest hat every Sunday morning and show it off to the congregation.
Overall, I am not a fan of church services that last longer than two hours. I’m just worn out by the end. Zion Temple’s style isn’t exactly my cup of tea, but low-energy churches can definitely learn something from high-energy churches like Zion, especially regarding worship.
For some reason, it is a very specific type of Christian that seems to push my buttons, and the folks at Zion Temple Pentecostal didn’t fit that profile. They just seemed like they wanted to love Jesus, and it’s hard to argue with that.
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
I knew Zion Temple was a predominantly black church before I arrived, but I didn't realize I would literally be the only white person in attendance. (I estimated there were about two hundred people total.) That didn't bother me, but I definitely stood out, which made me feel like everyone was watching me, which made it a little awkward. I encourage all church leaders reading this book to visit a church way outside of your comfort zone at least once a year to remind yourself how newcomers feel when they walk into your building.
The entire service lasted two hours and fifteen minutes, and much of what I saw was familiar. Worship, an offering, a message. But the whole experience felt like church on crack. Not necessarily in a bad way. The worship was amazing. So loud, so much energy, and so moving. Tastes vary, and that’s great, but Zion Temple had my kind of worship.
Tithing was interesting. Instead of passing a collection plate, everyone formed two lines and walked up front to drop their offerings into a box. It was interesting how much accountability this created. If you stayed seated, people knew you didn’t tithe. I began my visit in the balcony, so I got a free pass. About thirty minutes into the service, I decided to join everyone else down on the main floor.
And it was just in time.
It’s hard to explain what happened before the pastor began his message, but it was wild. First, a couple of ushers walked down the aisles and passed out paddles. For fanning themselves? Was it some worshipping device? Do they spank the bad kids? No idea. Then, all holy broke loose. People jumped up and down, and danced, and screamed at the top of their lungs, and … it was chaos. Attending a Pentecostal church is a workout. One woman literally waved her arm the entire service. Over two hours of arm waving. If I raise my hand for ten seconds, my muscles burn.
It was hardcore worshipping. I tried to capture some of it on video (because there really are no words to explain it), but I couldn’t get my camera out in time.
The thing about Zion Temple was that everything felt genuine. I don’t think anyone was putting on a show. They actually record the service and broadcast it on public television (times are listed on their Web site if you want to watch the service next Sunday), so who knows how much of what I witnessed was spontaneous and how much was manipulated for television.
Of course, not everyone stood and jumped around. Lots of people sat quietly in their seats. Just like any church, there was a mix of personalities and preferences. The pastor’s message definitely had lots of energy, but I had a hard time following him. Often, it just seemed like he was screaming to get the congregation fired up. I think his overall point was that God builds our faith through daily tests so we’re ready for life’s big tests. He used the story of Abraham to help make his point.
Near the end of the service, Zion Temple had a baptism (using their super-cool baptismal), an altar call, and time for one-on-one prayer.
A few things stood out:
1) In Pentecostal churches, “Amen” is like a period. They literally say Amen after every sentence. Even during the announcements.
Next week we are having our fall picnic. Amen. We need someone to bring potato salad. Amen. And cornhole sets. Amen. Directions are posted outside on the bulletin board. Amen. I hope it doesn’t rain. Amen. Anyone want to carpool? Amen.
2) Two seats in front of me, a woman breastfed her baby during the service. Ewww …
3) I love old, black women who wear amazing hats to church. I wanted to take pictures of every single one, but that might have been rude. It seems like such a fun ritual to bust out your newest, loudest hat every Sunday morning and show it off to the congregation.
Overall, I am not a fan of church services that last longer than two hours. I’m just worn out by the end. Zion Temple’s style isn’t exactly my cup of tea, but low-energy churches can definitely learn something from high-energy churches like Zion, especially regarding worship.
For some reason, it is a very specific type of Christian that seems to push my buttons, and the folks at Zion Temple Pentecostal didn’t fit that profile. They just seemed like they wanted to love Jesus, and it’s hard to argue with that.
JOIN THE CONVERSATION
