This past Sunday I visited Saint Marks Church in Roxbury where Ms. Kennedy of the HTC is a member. I walked into the small and homey church and saw children’s paintings and church mothers in their “church hats” and I felt at home. As I listened to the choir sing, I realized that this was the first Sunday that I’ve heard the rhythm of the drums in a while. I wasn’t home. I was in a foreign church in a part of Boston that I had only pasted through on my way to my Grandma’s. However, something felt good. I was in an atmosphere of spontaneity and life. I love my family here at Marsh and the sermons by Dean Hill always have me asking for more, but there’s something missing.
Marsh is theologically one of the most sound churches I’ve ever been to. There is a commitment to knowing your bible in ways that you cannot imagine and being aware of tradition and reasoning. I enjoy the services and the choir and all the differences there is from my traditional ideas of church. However, there is something missing. A feeling that can’t be replicated at Marsh. It is more than music. There’s a cultural aspect that’s missing for me at Marsh. I was raised in that cultural. I fell in love with it from a young age. I thought that I could maneuver within the church without this part of me, but no place will feel like home without this culture. Marsh is and will continue to be a safe place for me. A place for growth and continued exploration, but I’ll never have the ability to be my full self. Maybe not in any future church setting. I’ve felt the other side of church life to ever trust the church fully again. My faith in God will always be what I hold close to my heart, however, the church is a separate entity that has proved to be multifaceted.