A Sunday Night Service
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A Sunday Night Service A SUNDAY NIGHT SERVICE AT THE ALL NATIONS CHURCH By Martha T. Robinson In Omaha, heartland of America, Sudanese refugees gather to worship. Tall men in slacks, shirts stand at front. Beautiful women in floral dresses with matching kerchiefs, and children sit on back rows. All kiss American baby, blonde, blue-eyed, just learning to walk. Preacher James asks, Where are our visitors from? One by one, we call out, California, Missouri, South Carolina. Hands clap to steady beat of handheld drum. Deep voices sing a cappela while visitors stare at Arabic symbols on yellow song sheets, then nod. Must Jesus bear His cross alone, and all the world go free? One former missionary, bald head rimmed with white, says, I don’t know why God has allowed your people to suffer so. Preacher James grins. Let me tell you about our God, about His love, about liberty, about freedom in Christ Jesus. Speaking first in English, he soon switches to Arabic, so stirred by His message he can’t slow down for translation. Standing to leave, we shake hands, white pygmies amidst a forest of dark giants. Blonde baby toddles to end of row, reaches for Sudanese baby. Fingertips touch. Both babies gurgle the same language. |
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Submitted: Monday, July 11, 2011
Last Updated: Tuesday, July 12, 2011
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