Sundays and me usually get along pretty well. They are busy, yet relaxing, and are a key part of what I do.
Seven-thirty in the morning rolls around, and the 5 of us out of bed, in the shower, and getting pretty for church; fueled by a few sips of coffee of course! Grabbing our hymnals, we drive the short distance down the road to our home church in Stony Hill, Immaculate Conception. It is through this church that the 4 mission churches derive from: Tom’s River, King Weston, Devon Pen, and Mt. Friendship.
Entering the church is filled with greetings from members of the congregation, unlike what I experience in the States. The music is playing, complete with drums, tambourines, the organ, and the choir. My roommate Matt plays the Bongo drum each Sunday, or at least tries to J.
Mass is longer in Jamaica than it is back home; the homilies are sometimes 45 minutes long! But by the end of it, I am ready to go for round 2, up at my mission church in Mt. Friendship.
To get there, I ride up with whomever is assigned to do the service. Sometimes this involves helping to lug the giant food bags into their car, or making sure they have the necessary papers for the service. Once in MF, we stop to give a matriarch member a ride, Mrs. Hylton.
Mt. Friendship church is very different from my experience at the mother church in Stony Hill. There is no organ or set choir. No organized youth group. No Sunday school (besides some of the stories I might read). They do have 2 tambourines, hymnals, and the most important part, a congregation. Although this congregation is small and inconsistent, it is there and that is why the church is there: for the people to worship the Lord.
Walking into Mt. Friendship church, I see Ms. Doris, the present church leader, sweeping and cleaning to make sure the church is presentable. I run to give her a kiss, as she puckers her lips and smiles. She is dressed in her best, complete with a hat atop her head.
I greet the other members that come intermittently, and occupy my little friend, Jahieem. This 5 year old will sprint up to me, saying, “Caught you!” From that moment on, he follows me wherever I go, giggling, playing, and basically causing a whole bunch of mischief. But I love him, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend.
During the service, I read a few of the lessons, and try to keep some of the “pickneys” or children quiet until the homily. It is at this breaking point that I gather them in the back room for a short Bible story and breath of fresh air.
After church, we drop of some of the elderly, like Mr. Brooks, who walks from another mountain to attend church. After all this is said and done, I’m predictably relaxed and fulfilled from my day at church with some of the best people I know.
Seven-thirty in the morning rolls around, and the 5 of us out of bed, in the shower, and getting pretty for church; fueled by a few sips of coffee of course! Grabbing our hymnals, we drive the short distance down the road to our home church in Stony Hill, Immaculate Conception. It is through this church that the 4 mission churches derive from: Tom’s River, King Weston, Devon Pen, and Mt. Friendship.
Entering the church is filled with greetings from members of the congregation, unlike what I experience in the States. The music is playing, complete with drums, tambourines, the organ, and the choir. My roommate Matt plays the Bongo drum each Sunday, or at least tries to J.
Mass is longer in Jamaica than it is back home; the homilies are sometimes 45 minutes long! But by the end of it, I am ready to go for round 2, up at my mission church in Mt. Friendship.
To get there, I ride up with whomever is assigned to do the service. Sometimes this involves helping to lug the giant food bags into their car, or making sure they have the necessary papers for the service. Once in MF, we stop to give a matriarch member a ride, Mrs. Hylton.
Mt. Friendship church is very different from my experience at the mother church in Stony Hill. There is no organ or set choir. No organized youth group. No Sunday school (besides some of the stories I might read). They do have 2 tambourines, hymnals, and the most important part, a congregation. Although this congregation is small and inconsistent, it is there and that is why the church is there: for the people to worship the Lord.
Walking into Mt. Friendship church, I see Ms. Doris, the present church leader, sweeping and cleaning to make sure the church is presentable. I run to give her a kiss, as she puckers her lips and smiles. She is dressed in her best, complete with a hat atop her head.
I greet the other members that come intermittently, and occupy my little friend, Jahieem. This 5 year old will sprint up to me, saying, “Caught you!” From that moment on, he follows me wherever I go, giggling, playing, and basically causing a whole bunch of mischief. But I love him, and I couldn’t ask for a better friend.
During the service, I read a few of the lessons, and try to keep some of the “pickneys” or children quiet until the homily. It is at this breaking point that I gather them in the back room for a short Bible story and breath of fresh air.
After church, we drop of some of the elderly, like Mr. Brooks, who walks from another mountain to attend church. After all this is said and done, I’m predictably relaxed and fulfilled from my day at church with some of the best people I know.
