I’m sitting on my stoop watching my car to make sure it doesn’t get towed. You play crazy games in NYC when you have a car. I can park on my street every day except on Mon and Thurs from 8:30-10 a.m. If I’m at home on Mon and Thurs I’ll move my car by 8:30 and then move it back at 9:30. I have to sit with it to make sure the parking police don’t come by unexpected. Don’t you just love it!? This blog is a continuation of the blog below so go there and read if you haven’t yet done so. Today, I will revisit my time at Brooklyn Tabernacle.
Brooklyn Tabernacle
Just as I did with The Journey I went to Brooklyn Tabernacle's website.to find out the essentials: where, what time, how do I get there, etc. I was glad to see that I couldn’t find a “what to expect” link telling me exactly what would happen. Little did I know the ramifications of this.
My in-laws were in town visiting and so we, at the last minute, decided to go. My mother-in-law stayed home with Sophia so Laura’s dad, Laura and myself headed out to make the long three block hike.
As we approached we saw signs much like The Journey telling us exactly where to go. There were also signs telling us that tonight’s service was called “Miracle Night.” We made our way to the entrance and were more than a few minutes late. I was struck by the beauty of the lobby and the magnificent staircase leading us to the balcony. There were ushers (not greeters) around every corner telling us where to go.
I walked in the auditorium and was blown away. This auditorium was more beautiful and ornate than any Broadway theatre I’ve been in…seriously. The trim was gold and the chandeliers were crystal. Everything was brand new and spotless. The ushers were in suits and dresses and had radios to communicate with each other. While I thought it would be fine to wear casual clothes, I was wrong. Three piece suits, dresses and hats adorned each and every person. The 3,500 seat auditorium was packed. We, as whites, were by far the minority. The majority of people were African Americans. (I shouldn’t take for granted that they all were African-Americans. Many could have been from other parts of the world but for sensitivity’s sake, I refer to the majority as African-American in race.) As we sat down I heard Jim Cymbala speaking. He wrote the famous Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire book that inspired so many Christians around the world. I read the book and was also inspired to wake up and pray for the unexpected. Jim prayed that and now stood in front of 3,500 people…and this was the third service of the day.
He was asking the audience for money. Apparently the new auditorium we were sitting in wasn’t quite paid off. He wanted it paid off and was asking people to give freely. Not a bad thing, right? But! But, he told them if they gave, they would be given to in return. In other words, give so that you will be blessed. The motive was all wrong but Jim was preaching it and the crowd was in agreement with it’s choruses of “amens!” It was quickly becoming evident that this church practiced the health and wealth gospel. Ugh! I had no idea. It’s theology gets worse.
But before it got worse, we were blessed to hear the Brooklyn Tab choir. WOW! Yes, I can see why people come to hear the choir. They were simply remarkable and just when you didn’t think they could take it to another volume and level of excellence, they did and did it again and again and again. It was as if a runner walked on the track and set the world record in the 100 meter sprint. Went back to the starting line and did it again. Walked back and shattered his previous world record mark and did it again and again. You would be amazed, huh? This is what the choir kept doing. There were times when I would look over to Laura in jaw dropped amazement. I can see, as Jim says in his book, why music is so important to that church. It certainly ministered to me and the rest of the people there. We weren’t instructed to sing along, just to listen. And so we did and so we were blessed.
The “Miracle Night” was basically a prayer night in which testimonies were given concerning financial, physical and spiritual healings people had received. These testimonies were followed by prayer. Between each portion of testimony and prayer, the choir sang a song. You were asked to stand if you had problems in any of the areas and practically the entire auditorium stood during each segment of prayer. It was asked during the financial portion of the night that people would get raises and job promotions. I guess that isn’t so bad but from the way some of these people dressed, that was the least of their concerns. It was asked over and over again in that prayer that our territory might be expanded (see Prayer of Jabez). It got disgusting after a while.
At one point during the service someone from under the balcony began speaking in tongues. The crowd immediately became hushed and everyone bowed their head. The speaker stopped speaking and bowed as well. He was done and the crowd stayed still and hushed as someone from another part of the audience started to interpret. I have experienced people speaking in tongues but have never heard an interpretation of it. This crowd had been schooled on those scriptures and adhered to them. My poor father-in-law didn’t know what to think of it all and honestly, I was a bit shocked too. No wonder there was no “what to expect” link on their website. :)
It was a long service at around 2 to 2 ½ hours. We never did sing as a congregation nor did we partake in communion, a common theme among these three churches I visited. This place, like The Journey, was not in the least intimate. We were never greeted, never shook hands with anyone and never sought after. People had friendly faces but that was the extent of the outreach.
It’s interesting. My father-in-law was sitting beside a young girl who by the end of the service was visibly upset. She was crying and kept looking to Harvey for some kind of reaction. Harvey, an elder at his home church in St. Louis, picked up on the signs immediately. After the service was over, he introduced the young girl to Laura. Laura talked to her for about 20 minutes. Laura prayed for the girl and we left. Would that girl have been noticed by anyone else? Would anyone else in that place taken the time to talk to her and pray with her? I’m sure members of Brooklyn Tab would have but they were too busy doing other things (getting out ahead of the crowd). I wonder what kind of true community is taking place there and wonder if it is not more than a place where one comes to be ministered to. Again, it seems like it was focused on individualism and the betterment of self. While I left uplifted by the choir I didn’t leave with a sense of being in a community that wanted to make a difference in the world much less Brooklyn. I wonder if Jim notices this because it seems so opposite what he prayed for in Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire.
Brooklyn Tabernacle
Just as I did with The Journey I went to Brooklyn Tabernacle's website.to find out the essentials: where, what time, how do I get there, etc. I was glad to see that I couldn’t find a “what to expect” link telling me exactly what would happen. Little did I know the ramifications of this.
My in-laws were in town visiting and so we, at the last minute, decided to go. My mother-in-law stayed home with Sophia so Laura’s dad, Laura and myself headed out to make the long three block hike.
As we approached we saw signs much like The Journey telling us exactly where to go. There were also signs telling us that tonight’s service was called “Miracle Night.” We made our way to the entrance and were more than a few minutes late. I was struck by the beauty of the lobby and the magnificent staircase leading us to the balcony. There were ushers (not greeters) around every corner telling us where to go.
I walked in the auditorium and was blown away. This auditorium was more beautiful and ornate than any Broadway theatre I’ve been in…seriously. The trim was gold and the chandeliers were crystal. Everything was brand new and spotless. The ushers were in suits and dresses and had radios to communicate with each other. While I thought it would be fine to wear casual clothes, I was wrong. Three piece suits, dresses and hats adorned each and every person. The 3,500 seat auditorium was packed. We, as whites, were by far the minority. The majority of people were African Americans. (I shouldn’t take for granted that they all were African-Americans. Many could have been from other parts of the world but for sensitivity’s sake, I refer to the majority as African-American in race.) As we sat down I heard Jim Cymbala speaking. He wrote the famous Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire book that inspired so many Christians around the world. I read the book and was also inspired to wake up and pray for the unexpected. Jim prayed that and now stood in front of 3,500 people…and this was the third service of the day.
He was asking the audience for money. Apparently the new auditorium we were sitting in wasn’t quite paid off. He wanted it paid off and was asking people to give freely. Not a bad thing, right? But! But, he told them if they gave, they would be given to in return. In other words, give so that you will be blessed. The motive was all wrong but Jim was preaching it and the crowd was in agreement with it’s choruses of “amens!” It was quickly becoming evident that this church practiced the health and wealth gospel. Ugh! I had no idea. It’s theology gets worse.
But before it got worse, we were blessed to hear the Brooklyn Tab choir. WOW! Yes, I can see why people come to hear the choir. They were simply remarkable and just when you didn’t think they could take it to another volume and level of excellence, they did and did it again and again and again. It was as if a runner walked on the track and set the world record in the 100 meter sprint. Went back to the starting line and did it again. Walked back and shattered his previous world record mark and did it again and again. You would be amazed, huh? This is what the choir kept doing. There were times when I would look over to Laura in jaw dropped amazement. I can see, as Jim says in his book, why music is so important to that church. It certainly ministered to me and the rest of the people there. We weren’t instructed to sing along, just to listen. And so we did and so we were blessed.
The “Miracle Night” was basically a prayer night in which testimonies were given concerning financial, physical and spiritual healings people had received. These testimonies were followed by prayer. Between each portion of testimony and prayer, the choir sang a song. You were asked to stand if you had problems in any of the areas and practically the entire auditorium stood during each segment of prayer. It was asked during the financial portion of the night that people would get raises and job promotions. I guess that isn’t so bad but from the way some of these people dressed, that was the least of their concerns. It was asked over and over again in that prayer that our territory might be expanded (see Prayer of Jabez). It got disgusting after a while.
At one point during the service someone from under the balcony began speaking in tongues. The crowd immediately became hushed and everyone bowed their head. The speaker stopped speaking and bowed as well. He was done and the crowd stayed still and hushed as someone from another part of the audience started to interpret. I have experienced people speaking in tongues but have never heard an interpretation of it. This crowd had been schooled on those scriptures and adhered to them. My poor father-in-law didn’t know what to think of it all and honestly, I was a bit shocked too. No wonder there was no “what to expect” link on their website. :)
It was a long service at around 2 to 2 ½ hours. We never did sing as a congregation nor did we partake in communion, a common theme among these three churches I visited. This place, like The Journey, was not in the least intimate. We were never greeted, never shook hands with anyone and never sought after. People had friendly faces but that was the extent of the outreach.
It’s interesting. My father-in-law was sitting beside a young girl who by the end of the service was visibly upset. She was crying and kept looking to Harvey for some kind of reaction. Harvey, an elder at his home church in St. Louis, picked up on the signs immediately. After the service was over, he introduced the young girl to Laura. Laura talked to her for about 20 minutes. Laura prayed for the girl and we left. Would that girl have been noticed by anyone else? Would anyone else in that place taken the time to talk to her and pray with her? I’m sure members of Brooklyn Tab would have but they were too busy doing other things (getting out ahead of the crowd). I wonder what kind of true community is taking place there and wonder if it is not more than a place where one comes to be ministered to. Again, it seems like it was focused on individualism and the betterment of self. While I left uplifted by the choir I didn’t leave with a sense of being in a community that wanted to make a difference in the world much less Brooklyn. I wonder if Jim notices this because it seems so opposite what he prayed for in Fresh Wind, Fresh Fire.
posted by jch at
11:44 AM
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