Bridge the Gap

   As we entered the large double doors, I locked eyes with a African American brother that was bused in with a large group from Philadelphia. We instantly locked eyes and he reached out his arms and gave me a big hug, reciting “Sista, maybe you be here to bridge the gap”. Without hesitation I responded, “Oh..., how I wish it were that simple”.
   My eyes scanned the walls that were lined with beautiful paintings depicting different stories from the Bible. One painting in particular was of Jesus being baptized by John the Baptist. Never before had I seen paintings representing the biblical characters in black. My mind raced as I processed how we had Americanized Christ with blonde hair and blue eyes. I really had never given it much thought but their depiction was probably far more accurate than ours. Jesus was a Jew and from an area where the majority of people had dark skin. A thought that since has troubled me and my Hollywood embossed mentality.
   The foyer was filling up with woman wearing hats with feathers and bows laden with grandiose splendor. It struck me much like a movie set of My Fair Lady. The presentation with all of it's finest pomp and circumstance.

   We were but a handful of white spectators not fully understanding what we were about to embark. We sat silently as the celebration began. The church was filled with the sounds of Negro spirituals. The walls shook and the people swayed. A procession began as a group of men and women filled up the center aisle wearing white gloves. The energy abounded with their singing and movement. This was something, I had never witnessed or felt before.
It was spectacular!

    It wasn’t until a year later that a professor who taught about African American culture, and being African American himself explained what we had indeed witnessed. You see, when our African American brothers and sisters were not allowed to partake in the church services with us white folk, they would form a procession and make their way out into the woods. They would gather and worship a true worship, knowing full good and well of persecution. The Negro hymns were soulful and heartfelt because they endured what no man should have had to endure. They endured feeling less than. They often times endured being treated much less than a common dog. In many ways their procession is a mockery of the times they were cast away because, we felt entitled. Entitled to feel that we were any less of a sinner? Entitled because we carried a different pigment of skin?

   I have come to embrace that we are all one race, created from the same God, descending from the same parents and adapting to our given locations. How ignorant we are to follow the mindlessness of a given thought that provides such hate and contempt for any brother or sister. I too wait until we live in the land of eternity. A land where we no longer have to bridge the gap.

C.A. Bresin
  

Even the righteousness of God which is by faith of Jesus Christ unto all and upon all them that believe: for there is no difference:

For all have sinned, and come short of the glory of God;

Being justified freely by his grace through the redemption that is in Christ Jesus:

Romans 3:22-24  (KJV)