Mt. Zion United Church Of Christ, Cleveland, Ohio - A Review.

     Page Two Hundred Ninety.

     I may have written prior that I really enjoy going to church. I'm Jewish and my definition of God falls squarely within the parameters of traditional Orthodox Judaism, but I also enjoy a good Protestant sermon. When ministers start going on and on, I simply translate the term "Jesus" to "God" and then I'm able to access most pulpit messages with great ease. However, if the sermon is actually about Jesus, i.e. his life; his struggles or what have you as opposed to his teachings, i.e. love one another; don't be a hypocrite, etc. I'm bored to tears and zone out. That really doesn't happen often though. Thankfully, most sermons really are about his message.
     How I got to this point in my life is a separate blog which I won't deliver now, just know that many, many Sundays, if I don't have to work at the museum, I'm darkening the door of some nearby Protestant church. (When the ministers sense me coming, they run and hide.) Quite often I'll even attend 2 different churches on the same Sunday, attending 9.30AM service at one, then 11AM service at another. I refer to these as "Double Features". In past blogs, I've implied that a REAL lot of people know who I am. This is one reason why.
     So, Sunday morning, November 16th,  I was in the mood for something really different. I went to Mt. Zion United Church of Christ down in University Circle. I've mentioned before that University Circle is Cleveland's arts & cultural hub, and also home to some glorious houses of worship. Well, Mt. Zion isn't one of them. It's in an old, huge mansion with a large, 1960's sanctuary added on in back. But, brother, they get the job done.
     I met the minister of Zion at an event last summer and liked him and had also heard of the church in the past, so that's what prompted me to attend. I was surprised to find it 98% Black. I was expecting an integrated church for some reason, don't now why, just was. So, this happened to be a special Sunday for a variety of reasons: it was potluck Sunday; it was a celebration of  male prayer and there was a visiting minister who'd be delivering the sermon. This visitor was from a nearby Seventh Day Adventist church, but had a nationwide reputation for his preaching skills.
     So... where to start... where to start... where to start...
     How about the music? It was the real deal. This was the music that James Brown, Aretha and Little Richard grew up on. It was serious. It was worth the price of admission. Fabulous!
Music: 10/10
     Sermon. This guy was unreal. In the African-American tradition, some ministers deliver a message in a loud, fast voice. That message is sometimes so loud and fast that the words, themselves, are unintelligible, and indeed, almost unimportant (but the congregants would never, ever say that). But, the spirit and emotion of the delivery and the spirit and emotion of the room is what lifts away the congregation. Truly, the message itself is unimportant (but again, they would never, ever say that). By contrast, this guy was sometimes very loud, and sometimes spoke very fast, but EVERY SINGLY WORD WAS UNDERSTANDABLE AND THE MESSAGE WAS FANTASTIC! His message was this: you are God's child. You are entitled to his blessings as any child expects his or her father to take care of them. Have the audacity to expect to be taken care of. Have the nerve to not take "No" for an answer. Keep praying over and over for blessings. Live in prayer and never give up the prayer. Expect answers and expect blessings. It was extraordinary.
Sermon 10/10
     Comfort/grace/reception. I was received graciously. This was a congregation clearly used to visitors. They were friendly and appropriate. It goes without saying, but I'll say it, I ran into people whom I knew. Nobody bent over backwards to make me feel welcome, but that's okay.
Reception of the newcomer/visitor: 8/10
     Children. I adore kids, of course, and savor kid energy. The more children that are in a congregation and the more the congregation values those children, the better. In this group of 100-125 warm bodies, there were only about  8 children. That's not a good sign in my opinion. The number of youths should've been double that. But I'll give them the benefit of the doubt. Perhaps a bunch of kids were home with colds.
Children: 6/10
     Total experience: 8.5/10
     Remains to be seen what the congregation is really all about. Demographically, as already stated it's 98% Black. Appears to be solidly middle-class and upper-middle class as evidenced by the number of BMW's in the parking lot. The congregation was absolutely NOT dressed to the nines. That's very unusual for a Black church. I suspect that's another sign of their financial stability. Politically, I'll have to do some snooping. We all know that Black churches can run conservative on social issues, but I'm assuming that some conservatism in this particular church may be tempered by the fact that Mt. Zion is a member of the United Church of Christ, a denomination widely recognized for it's extremely and intensely liberal stance on social issues. And, there are very few Black UCC churches around. So, I'm thinking that there may be something very magical happening at Mt. Zion.
     I plan on phoning the minister and setting up an appointment to sit, have coffee and chat. I'll let you know what I find out.

The Tomato Sauce That Wasn't

     Page Seventy-Two.
     When I was little, I spent a few years attending parochial school. I attended the Hebrew Academy of Cleveland for kindergarten, part of first grade and then third grade. The rest of my schooling was local public education. The Hebrew Academy was Cleveland's only orthodox Jewish day school at the time. I won't try to explain the situation in my home, but my family's religious tradition was primarily orthodox Jewish, mixed with a touch of the other Jewish denominations and a smidgeon of Christianity thrown in just to mix things up a little. (My parents didn't live in an insulated, Jewish world. They had true friends of other faiths and skin tones, very unusual for their generation.) So I went to the Hebrew Academy to get my nice religious education, but I only went erratic years because I don't know why. To this day I've never figured that part out. Why only part of first grade? Why not second grade? Sorry. I can't tell you.
   I didn't really like it there. Nobody does. To this day, those teachers have a reputation for being mean. But, I didn't actively dislike it until third grade. My third grade Hebrew teacher was the meanest person who ever lived (this is eternal truth). I just couldn't stand her or the school. There was only one thing I liked about the Hebrew Academy: the spaghetti. It had the best tomato sauce in the world.
     I've relived eating that spaghetti so many times over the years, I just can't tell you; though the last time I did it in reality was 1971. I've pondered that spaghetti with tomato sauce many hours during my lifetime.
     In about 2010, I was a guest at a friends Yom Kippur Break-Fast. Yom Kippur is the Jewish day of atonement which is ten days after the Jewish New Year, always in early autumn. You fast for 24 hours to make penance to God for all your sins of the previous year, then starting the next day, you are virtually sinless, just like a newborn baby. Many people have gatherings on Yom Kippur night to break the fast with friends and family. Even though I don't fast on Yom Kippur (for a variety of reasons) I do attend my friends Break-Fast and always enjoy myself tremendously.
     Well, the year in question, 2010, I got to talking with one of the other guests about the Hebrew Academy. Dan was some years older than me and had attended more years than me but still, we had some similar experiences. I brought up that glorious spaghetti.
     "You know what that sauce was don't you?"
     "No. I've always figured it was some ancient recipe."
     "Ketchup."
     "WHAT?!?!"
     "They mixed ketchup with the pasta and called it spaghetti."
     "I don't believe you."
     "It's true. It was ketchup."
     "You've just completely ruined one of my few pleasant memories of the Hebrew Academy.
     "Sorry. They still do it, too."
     "Let's stop now. I'm getting sick." The actual conversation lasted closer to ten or fifteen minutes. You get the idea. 
     So... there you have it. One of my favorite things to eat when I was a kid was pasta with ketchup. I just didn't know it at the time. For the record, I did love ketchup when I was young, still do in fact. But the thought of mixing it with pasta just makes me sick.