So today I was leaving church and was walking out with one of the other Black people that shows up to church...the service I attend, and the church as a whole is predominately White with a few Blacks, Latinos and Asians floating around. One thing is particular to Black people though...while other races are likely foreign and new to Christianity, it's pretty safe to assume that if you run into a Black person in a White church, they're making a religious adjustment just as you are. So we talked and he explained why and how he started attending the church and how he wished his wife would come, but that she was apprehensive about the racial differences. I began talking about my own adjustment...from the music to the minority status, and he continued on, letting me that while his wife was Baptist and used to a high energy service, he was Methodist and found more familiarity and comfort with a subdued worship experience. I immediately thought of the first time I attended church with my apostolic boyfriend's (at the time) family. I was completely overwhelmed. It was loud...louder than I'd ever experienced. People were running and screaming, drums beating...it was LONG. I've gotten used to hour long services...3 and 4 hour services feel like endurance races now.
But yes...while I do think there are lines easily drawn dividing Black and White Christian experiences in the US, today was a reminder that sometimes, race gets trumped by other things.