Today's Daily Lesson is from Mother Emanuel Church in Charleston, South Carolina:
We are in Charleston and last night Gabrielle and I went to the Wednesday night Bible study at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church, where just over a year ago nine church members were murdered in the sanctuary. The 22-year-old white person soon to be on trial for the murders admitted to the act and said he was intending to set off a race war with the killings. Instead, the country was inspired by the words of forgiveness which some of the victims' family members spoke to the defendant in an initial hearing. "Mother Emanuel" then became a symbol of hope and healing for our nation.
"Mother Emanuel" has been the mother church of the black community here in Charleston since 1804, when the church was founded for colored persons both slave and free. In 1822, the church was burned when one of its members, Denmark Vessey, was implicated in a slave revolt. In 1834 the state of South Carolina outlawed all black houses of worship, out of fear that the black church was becoming a site of resistance and organization amongst black slaves. Blacks in Charleston continued to meet underground in Charleston until the end of the Civil War. In 1865, the church came out of hiding and built the church which stands today just off Meeting Street, right down from Charleston's central square and the old slave auction house. The was when the church took on its name -- "Emanuel", meaning "God is with us".
I am a bit anxious walking into the church. I do not know what to expect and wonder if I will be welcomed. I also feel a little anxious, wondering if the church could be targeted again. I feel a degree of relief when I see police officer sitting in his car in the parking lot. As Gabrielle and I enter the church into the fellowship hall we are greeted with a broad smile by one of the members. "Welcome," the man says. "Here for the Bible study?" I nod and he leads us into the hall where there is a winding and worn staircase which leads into the sanctuary. "Welcome," another man says as we open the door to see both children and adults seated together. Tonight's Bible Study is a bit different and will be a bit chaotic as the half-dozen church members are joined by another half-dozen white visitors and tourists along with about 50 young children who are in Vacation Bible School. I feel right at home.
We gather near the back of the sanctuary while the children convene us with the Pledge to the Christian Flag, Pledge to the Bible, and Pledge to the Flag of the United States. As we stand together with our hands over our hearts in the sanctuary where the nine lives were taken, I am especially struck by the words to the Pledge to the Christian Flag:
“I pledge allegiance to the Christian Flag and to the Savior for whose Kingdom it stands. One Savior, crucified, risen, and coming again with life and liberty to all who believe. Amen.”
After the pledges, we sit for the rest of the VBS convocation as a firm and funny woman reminds the children of what they are studying this week: Joseph, the man sold into slavery whose grace and magnanimity towards his brothers stands today a sign of hope and reconciliation the world over. After the children depart for their downstairs study and crafts, we are left with a friendly and soft spoken layman named Keith, a City of Charleston police officer and the husband of the firm and funny woman who is leading the kids. Keith tells us we will be studying Joseph also.
We stretch across 4 or 5 rows of the old and beautiful dark oak pews and open the Word together. Visitors mostly pull out iPhones or use the pew Bibles, while the members open the covers of well-worn and marked personal Bibles. Keith leads us in our study and discussion and notes how long it is into the Joseph story before God's name is ever mentioned. Keith asks us why that is and one African American woman in an African-print skirt and top speaks up. "God was there. God is always there. Even when God is silent, God is there," she says. I think again to the meaning of the church's name: Emanuel, "God is with us".
As we continue to talk about the story women from the Altar Guild come and begin to dress the altar in preparation for Communion this coming Sunday. As they lay and neatly spread a white cloth over the table my mind goes back to the Pledge: "One Savior, crucified, risen". I am here because He was crucified here yet again; and I am here because he rose here yet again also. I am here because they put him in a hole in the ground just like they put Joseph in a hole; and yet the hole could not contain him just like the hole could not contain Joseph -- neither the literal hole nor the hole of bitterness and anger. One Savior, crucified, risen, coming again -- here in this sanctuary.
After the study Keith invites us to a Love Feast downstairs. As we make our transition I take the opportunity to thank and speak with Keith. "Your church is a witness for our nation," I tell him. "We've always had that spirit," he says, "and we're not going to let one person take it away. In fact, we have to pray for him also."
As we make our way back down the stairs into the fellowship hall we enter where the children have been being taught. "Tell me about the Love Feast," I ask Keith. "This is a meal of spiritual preparation. Sunday we will take Communion and beforehand we take the Love Feast, a little bread and some water, which we take to ready and cleanse us in case we have any bitterness in our hearts towards anyone. We take the meal and then pass the peace."
The Word has now been studied, the altar dressed, the meal partaken, the peace passed. "He is crucified, rise, and coming again with life and liberty to all who believe."
Tonight I believe. "Emanuel" -- even in this place, in this sanctuary. I believe, and this church helps me in my unbelief. Emanuel, God is with us.
We are in Charleston and last night Gabrielle and I went to the Wednesday night Bible study at Emanuel African Methodist Episcopal Church, where just over a year ago nine church members were murdered in the sanctuary. The 22-year-old white person soon to be on trial for the murders admitted to the act and said he was intending to set off a race war with the killings. Instead, the country was inspired by the words of forgiveness which some of the victims' family members spoke to the defendant in an initial hearing. "Mother Emanuel" then became a symbol of hope and healing for our nation.
"Mother Emanuel" has been the mother church of the black community here in Charleston since 1804, when the church was founded for colored persons both slave and free. In 1822, the church was burned when one of its members, Denmark Vessey, was implicated in a slave revolt. In 1834 the state of South Carolina outlawed all black houses of worship, out of fear that the black church was becoming a site of resistance and organization amongst black slaves. Blacks in Charleston continued to meet underground in Charleston until the end of the Civil War. In 1865, the church came out of hiding and built the church which stands today just off Meeting Street, right down from Charleston's central square and the old slave auction house. The was when the church took on its name -- "Emanuel", meaning "God is with us".
I am a bit anxious walking into the church. I do not know what to expect and wonder if I will be welcomed. I also feel a little anxious, wondering if the church could be targeted again. I feel a degree of relief when I see police officer sitting in his car in the parking lot. As Gabrielle and I enter the church into the fellowship hall we are greeted with a broad smile by one of the members. "Welcome," the man says. "Here for the Bible study?" I nod and he leads us into the hall where there is a winding and worn staircase which leads into the sanctuary. "Welcome," another man says as we open the door to see both children and adults seated together. Tonight's Bible Study is a bit different and will be a bit chaotic as the half-dozen church members are joined by another half-dozen white visitors and tourists along with about 50 young children who are in Vacation Bible School. I feel right at home.
We gather near the back of the sanctuary while the children convene us with the Pledge to the Christian Flag, Pledge to the Bible, and Pledge to the Flag of the United States. As we stand together with our hands over our hearts in the sanctuary where the nine lives were taken, I am especially struck by the words to the Pledge to the Christian Flag:
“I pledge allegiance to the Christian Flag and to the Savior for whose Kingdom it stands. One Savior, crucified, risen, and coming again with life and liberty to all who believe. Amen.”
After the pledges, we sit for the rest of the VBS convocation as a firm and funny woman reminds the children of what they are studying this week: Joseph, the man sold into slavery whose grace and magnanimity towards his brothers stands today a sign of hope and reconciliation the world over. After the children depart for their downstairs study and crafts, we are left with a friendly and soft spoken layman named Keith, a City of Charleston police officer and the husband of the firm and funny woman who is leading the kids. Keith tells us we will be studying Joseph also.
We stretch across 4 or 5 rows of the old and beautiful dark oak pews and open the Word together. Visitors mostly pull out iPhones or use the pew Bibles, while the members open the covers of well-worn and marked personal Bibles. Keith leads us in our study and discussion and notes how long it is into the Joseph story before God's name is ever mentioned. Keith asks us why that is and one African American woman in an African-print skirt and top speaks up. "God was there. God is always there. Even when God is silent, God is there," she says. I think again to the meaning of the church's name: Emanuel, "God is with us".
As we continue to talk about the story women from the Altar Guild come and begin to dress the altar in preparation for Communion this coming Sunday. As they lay and neatly spread a white cloth over the table my mind goes back to the Pledge: "One Savior, crucified, risen". I am here because He was crucified here yet again; and I am here because he rose here yet again also. I am here because they put him in a hole in the ground just like they put Joseph in a hole; and yet the hole could not contain him just like the hole could not contain Joseph -- neither the literal hole nor the hole of bitterness and anger. One Savior, crucified, risen, coming again -- here in this sanctuary.
After the study Keith invites us to a Love Feast downstairs. As we make our transition I take the opportunity to thank and speak with Keith. "Your church is a witness for our nation," I tell him. "We've always had that spirit," he says, "and we're not going to let one person take it away. In fact, we have to pray for him also."
As we make our way back down the stairs into the fellowship hall we enter where the children have been being taught. "Tell me about the Love Feast," I ask Keith. "This is a meal of spiritual preparation. Sunday we will take Communion and beforehand we take the Love Feast, a little bread and some water, which we take to ready and cleanse us in case we have any bitterness in our hearts towards anyone. We take the meal and then pass the peace."
The Word has now been studied, the altar dressed, the meal partaken, the peace passed. "He is crucified, rise, and coming again with life and liberty to all who believe."
Tonight I believe. "Emanuel" -- even in this place, in this sanctuary. I believe, and this church helps me in my unbelief. Emanuel, God is with us.
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