Chapter 6: Higher Ground and the New Georgia Baptist Church

Sunday
July 7, 2019

Chapter 6: Higher Ground at the New Georgia Baptist Church

I’m pressing on the upward way
New heights I’m gaining every day
Still praying as I onward bound
Lord plant my feet on higher ground

My heart has no desire to stay
Where doubts arise and fears dismay
Though some may dwell where these abound
My prayer, my aim is higher ground

And so today’s diary entry begins. The lines above are one verse from a hymn sung during today’s service at Jay’s house of worship, the New Georgia Baptist Church. Nattily dressed in a blue jacket with baby blue, checked shirt, and hip, laceless kicks, Jay looked good walking into the chapel. I followed him closely sporting my custom-made African shirt. Arriving fashionably late thirty minutes into the service — and wet from the rain — we confidently made our way to the front pew, walking past everyone, wiped off our drippy glasses and took our seats. Quite a pair.

For the next three hours the pastor and his congregation put on an uplifting and lively service. On the left of the stage was the choir, twenty young men and women clad in light blue robes with dark blue collars. They stood on tiers and spent the entire time singing, swaying, and clapping, keeping the proceedings upbeat. A beautiful looking and sounding group. In the middle of the stage sat the podium at which the pastor and his seconds delivered their sermons. To the right sat eight or so

deacons, men and women, who performed various duties and gave important announcements. At the back of the stage was the band: a drummer who banged with passion, and a keyboardist who kept pace all the way.

On the pews sat hymnals for the parishioners to sing along word for word with every song the choir sang. That said, pretty much everybody but me already knew all the words. But I did my best. A portion of the event was set aside for, what the program called the offertory. This is simply when the congregation was expected to offer their tithes. Everyone stepped to the front of the room and dropped money — American or Liberty — in one of three clear boxes. The middle box for those who wanted to support the radio station which broadcast the church’s sermons. I had a small handful of

Liberty dollars to contribute and did so.

Much to the surprise of many, I am sure, I didn’t stand when, early in the service, the pastor asked for first-time parishioners to stand and introduce themselves on the microphone. This was my third trip to NGBC. I was touched by the sight of a young man seated by himself just behind me waiting anxiously for his turn to grab the mic and introduce himself to the congregation and pastor. I saw him steel himself, fight through his shaking lips, and stand strong to present himself to all in this house of God. It was clearly a very important moment in his life. Mine too.

About halfway through the ceremony, Jay was called to the stage to speak to the congregation. I had no idea he was going to speak. He did. What followed was another masterful oration, delivered with humor and warmth. His message was about giving, being generous to what you value most, and what it really means to pay your tithes regardless of your financial standing. In typical Jay fashion, the theme was supported by well-told stories that personalized his point and made everyone more comfortable with a subject that can be stressful. Hearing Jay sermonize and feeling the positive reaction from the congregation — vigorous nods, laughs, amens — reminded me of this quote from John Quincy Adams.

“If your actions inspire others to dream more, learn more, do more and become more, you are a leader.”

Near the end of the service was the rite of communion. Consecrated wafers and small cups of wine were passed around to all, representing the body and blood of Christ. At the appropriate time, we ate and drank.

When the service was over everyone milled around inside and out, for, appropriately, the rain had stopped and the sun was shining. It was a very happy group. Everyone walked out of the church happier, more alive, closer to each other and God. While Jay mingled with numerous friends, I made a point to find, talk to, and photograph two sisters, Benetta and Precious. We met this pair on our last visit to Liberia in 2018. My daughter LouElla was with me for that visit. The three of them — Benetta, Precious and, LouElla — became friends and I wanted an updated picture for LouElla.

On the way home, we stopped by the bank in downtown Monrovia so Jay could hit the ATM. Getting to the bank required a route through the city which we haven’t taken yet on this trip. We passed through a neighborhood called Westpoint, the worst of all the slums in the city. We made sure the doors were locked. Having just left the church, inspired to work for greater brotherhood for all, it was a stark and bitter reminder of the work that remains to lift every man, woman, and child to higher ground.

Tomorrow the day starts early and we return to AME university for our next class.