Personal Narrative: Joining A Baptist Church

I chose to evaluate my home church's missions program for this paper. A big part of this decision was curiosity; I had never in my five years at my home church heard anything of a well-formed missions program, and upon receiving this assignment became very intrigued. I interviewed a good friend of mine, who is also an elder at Kentwood Christian Church, by the name of Mike Boumis.

I go to Mt. Zion Baptist Church. I’m on the praise team and today, we are having an affable concert. We are inviting all churches in Albany and surrounding towns to come and revere with us. My sister is also on the praise team. She is having an indolence attitude. She says she doesn’t want to go even though she committed to earlier this month. As her sister and captain of the pre team, I encouraged her to come along. The whole way to the church she was being desecrate.

I knew one thing for certain: Tennessee was a very stupid state filled with stupid people and I would never drink their stupid sweet tea. Thus was my twelve year old opinion.

Church, temple, sanctuary, or the Lords’s house, these are just a few names that your average person might call the place you come to worship God, I have always called it home. The Church I have been attending, Memorial Baptist Church, which is also where I attend high school, I have been attending since I was the age of three years old. Moving to the area that my family lives in now, I do not believe is any accident. At the age of two years old, my father was stationed in Tennessee for the military. After passing away from brain cancer, my Mother moved my two older sisters and me to Killeen Texas, to be closer to her family. Memorial Baptist Church was the only church we have ever been members of since moving to Texas, it has always felt like

I attend Gospel Light Freewill Independent Baptist Church in Thomasville, NC. It’s a relatively small church, with about 50-70 people on a Sunday morning. My grandmother, my aunt, and my uncle attend this church as well. I consider myself to be a child of God and a true “born again” Christian. Being “born again” means that one has accepted God into their heart and has been changed on the inside. I accepted him into my heart on October 9th, 2012. Growing up strictly in an independent Baptist church, I didn’t know that other churches were different, at least not until I visited my boyfriend’s church which is Southern Baptist. My pastor preaches heavily on hell-fire and brimstone. He walks up and down the altar, yelling and jumping. There are

or those who know me, they know that nearly every Sunday morning I’ll be sitting next to my wife, on the front row of Topeka Baptist Church. To be clear though, I’m not implying that I’m super-spiritual, nor am I trying to impress anyone by my seating preference. Truth be told, I’m an avid people-watcher and easily allured by my surroundings, so sitting on the front row gives me the best opportunity to pay attention since the only person I can see is the pastor. I can’t tell you the day, month, or even the year when we started attending our church, nor can I tell you exactly how long we’ve sat on that front row now. However, I do know that I’ve listened to the pastor faithfully deliver sermon after sermon, Sunday after Sunday. Although I

With renewed devotion to the miracle of the gospel and a desire to meet with my fellow saints, I searched for the church in the phone book. I called the bishop and organized a ride to church the following Sunday for Reggie and me. Reggie decided not to attend anymore. I waited for my ride that never came. I was unaware, but I lived in a very dangerous neighborhood. Once the person at the other end of the phone found out where I lived, it must have deterred them. It was a blessing in disguise. What I did not know was there existed another latter-day Church, The Reorganized Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, now called the Community of Christ. I had called a splinter group that had nothing to do with the church I had joined. If someone

Next, going to a baptist church had some similarities and difference compared to going to a synagogue. The similarities were that they are both places where people in the community come together to pray and worship God. Another similarity is that there are parts of the service where there are readings from either the torah or bible that are long and boring. There are also parts of the service where there is standing and singing. Furthermore, there’s also the similarity of there being one person who leads the service, in a synagogue its a rabbi, and in church it’s a pastor. The rabbi or pastor speak and the community listens or participates when asked. A final similarity that I noticed is that at both synagogues, and African American baptist churches the services discuss topics that are culturally significant.

Throughout my time with the Methodist church, I have experienced great opportunities and also many challenges. My family and I have been taught by a man who I think to be one of the most godly men I have ever met. Reverend Felder has always had a positive outlook on St. Luke UMC future even through trials and adversity. In fact, I truly think the Lord used him to save St. Luke because when he became pastor the city of Augusta had the land the church occupied labeled a future parking lot. However Felder had a vision for the church and the vision included having the sanctuary packed with families from the neighborhood of Harrisburg. The church is now an entity in the neighborhood that it was not before Reverend Felder came, and while is has a

When I was six years old I accepted Christ. I grew up in a Christian home and was given a Christian education. My faith has been a big part of my life. It has gotten me through the good, the bad and the ugly. There have been dry seasons in my faith, but even in those times God has remained faithful. Each day God is teaching me something new about who He is. He is continually growing me to be more like Him.

I spent a year of college trying to be African. Afrobeats vibrated through the walls of Beets-Veenstra’s first floor dorm. My Christian college had an open-door policy. Walking past the ninth door on the left gave visitors an eyeful of my black hips swaying in circles as if an invisible hula-hoop entangled my waist. I had to get the moves I learned at the parties right. The beats were different from the hip hop music I regularly danced to. They were smooth tempos, but faster than reggae and bodies rocked with more control. My roommate complained about the hours I spent dancing in front of the mirror. We were not flat mates the next the year.

It was a beautiful summer day at church. I was just 12 years old when I heard his voice. I heard him before I saw his face. This was the day that I met someone who has changed my life.

I am Thomas Wayne Rice, Christ follower, senior, camp counselor. I first started following Christ in the 1st grade, I had always know of Christ, I was raised in church, but half way through my 10th grade year I learned what it meant to actually have a relationship with Jesus. That is when it all changed for me I stopped living my life for myself and began a new life. This is the story of my salvation and where God is leading me.

In my second field experience, I’d decided to go to a Baptist church. However, I did not come from a religious background. Although I am not completely in the dark when it comes to religion I have learn about different religion through friends and books. Therefore, I thought this would be a great opportunity to finally experience a service and put my ignorance aside. Meaning the assumption and expectation I had of church service. Furthermore, it provided me the opportunity to challenge myself and my own biases I have towards going to church. Once I went to church I was surprise to see so many black people, for the first time since I moved too Greensburg, I was actual able to see a room overflowing with individual who looked just like me, my first emotion was excitement and enjoy. Some of my expectation, was something I have learned from my mother. My mother always told me that “black people churches last longer”, with this in mind I was prepare to be there for a long time. However, to my surprise it did not last as long as I’d expected it to. My overall experience, was warming, peaceful and positive.

When I met my wife in the year of 2008, it was certainly a very uplifting experience in my life. I just became a born-again Christian, and I was ready to take on anything that came my way; or so I thought. I actually met my wife online and knew right away that she was the one that I was going to be with for the rest of my life. The issue at this point was, I didn't have a car or a job, and she was all the way in Michigan while I was in Pennsylvania. I figured I had to bring her to PA Somehow and without funding, I struggled. So I figured I'll sell something and the big-ticket item I had was my guitar. This is where God truly took over because I planned on taking a bus trip to get her and we would drive from Michigan to Pennsylvania. The ticket