Churchgoers reject fear, find fellowship in faith
It was the same hour on the same day, a week after 26 people had been shot dead in a Texas church. Gov. Greg Abbott had called for a moment of silence, but the people gathered at the Wheeler Avenue Baptist Church were far from quiet. They were singing. Here, in a packed 11 a.m. service at the iconic church in Houston’s historic Third Ward, they refused to let the shooting in Sutherland Springs inspire fear. They wanted to worship. They gave thanks, moved at times to their feet, trusting in the goodness of God even after tragedy.
“Whenever you attack folks in the body of Christ, it just makes us stronger,” the Rev. Marcus Cosby asserted as he preached. “Folks still shout hallelujah.”
Outside of Wheeler Avenue, countless Houstonians gathered for religious services Sunday, seeking fellowship in the wake of an attack that killed and injured so many churchgoers. Hundreds gathered under a white tent for a service in Sutherland Springs, while pastors in parishes big and small across Texas addressed the attack in the manner they felt best.
Prayer and security
Some had reviewed security plans in advance of the day. Many had prayed.
“Who expects to come to church and find not acceptance and peace but annihilation and death by someone with a weapon of mass murder?“asked Neil Alan Willard, the chief rector of Palmer Memorial Episcopal Church, during his sermon at 7:45 a.m., the first service of the day.
“All we can do is pray for them, and pray these things don’t happen again,” churchgoer Martin Gonzalez said, attending Mass at St. Helen Catholic Church in Pearland, 15 miles away, where the pastor of the church that morning had reminded everyone where the exits are in the sanctuary.
On the avenue, as they say at Wheeler, people arrived well ahead of the 11 a.m. service, lining up for entry to the main worship space.
Among them was Marcia Curry, who that morning put on her dress and grabbed a black shawl and decided to go to Bible study before church. She had come without second thought. She was alive, she said, and she was able.
They prayed during Bible study for those in Sutherland Springs, at the request of someone connected to the small town in San Antonio’s shadow.
“Even here in our community, here in our church, we were affected,” she said. “They were Christians serving God. … You still feel for other believers.”
The line filed in as the 9 a.m. service let out. Everyone settled. The singing began. The feeling was one of resiliency and of trust. For He is good! Yes, He is good! Here, like in so many churches, community matters. It’s built into the service: time to greet newcomers. To shake hands with and hug those in the pews in front or behind. To pray for sisters and brothers bereaved and hospitalized.
It forms bonds like those among the self-professed “pew partners,” a small group of men who sit together in the back left — no matter the violence in the news.
“We have plenty of security here,” Herb Quaintance, 70, said.
“And we have God Almighty,” Don George, 62, added.
They came to be healed and leave ready for the week.
“We can say thanks,” Lekesha Barnett said as she led everyone in prayer. “You have been so good to keep us from danger, seen and unseen.”
She sat down. She wiped her eyes.
Officers patrolled outside. “Watchmen,” as they were known, stood in suits at the front protecting the pulpit.
Even Harris County Sheriff Ed Gonzalez patrolled area churches, spending five hours Sunday morning visiting services. He wanted to be visible and to offer comfort.
People needed to know: They should not be afraid to go on with their lives. They should not be afraid to practice their faith. “We can learn from it,” he said.
‘Keep you strong’
Michelle Morrison, 44, hadn’t been scared. She swayed in song among those at Wheeler. This was her time to take a break from the worry of looking for a new job, from the nagging question of whether she should move back to Louisiana to be near her family again.
Here she could find solace and peace.
Michael Cook, 50, did not worry either, belting out words seemingly as they came to him.
“If I die coming, I know where I’m going,” he said later.
He had trust in God, he explained.
Cosby took the podium. And he, too, gave thanks for the blessings he said God had given.
“You can’t buy peace,” he said. “You can’t buy joy.”
His voice built. He worked himself breathless and into a sweat, wiping his forehead with a towel. The congregation added to the energy, clapping and shouting.
“He made us to be blessed with firmness to endure,” he said. “The God we serve will keep you strong.”
Events like Sutherland, he said, would only make him pray more.
The congregation ended the service singing “Amen,” hands held, arms raised. emily.foxhall@chron.com twitter.com/emfoxhall