In the right environment, you should get the sense that you are being celebrated and not tolerated.
If you ask me what grabbed my attention the first time I walked through the doors of Detroit Center, I would have to say it was the way the people embraced me. And I knew it was genuine because I came to church in street clothes (at the time I didn’t have the money to buy church clothes). But apparently it didn’t matter; they were more concerned with making me feel welcomed than they were with the kind of clothes I was wearing. And even though I was impressed with the initial warm greeting, I was about to fall for the ying yang. I was only there because Bob invited me. I knew Bob was down for me like four flat tires, but there was no way in the world anyone could get me to believe that the people in that church could show me the same type of love Bob showed me. And if you asked me six months after I entered the church what made me stay—with tears running down my face, I would have to tell you—it was the love. Although I didn’t have any intentions of joining Bob’s church or anyone’s church, I continued to attend because I understood that it would be stupid to leave a place that showed me as much love as the people at that church showed me. After the first month of attending church Sister Burse told me it was my turn to teach the youth bible class. I didn’t even own a bible and she put me in the rotation. It didn’t matter that I was homeless and potentially on the verge of being a high school dropout; she believed in me. The church’s philosophy was, you are only a guest once, the next time you walk through those doors we are putting you to work. And boy did they put me to work. After my first major assignment, Sister Burse pulled me aside and encouraged me. She said she noticed I had leadership potential and I should continue teaching; I guess that’s why she gave me several opportunities after that day. More importantly, she took an interest in me and took the time out of her schedule to train me. Looking back on those days I can truly say that she helped me hone my speaking and leadership skills and taught me how to operate in what she called a spirit of excellence.
What was even deeper and even more impressive was the fact that The Center Church didn’t just embrace me behind closed doors, they invited me to go on the church retreat and they even covered all my expenses. Their acts of kindness sent a huge message. I felt like I was a part of the family, like I belonged. It was like being on the sitcom Cheers listening to the theme song.
“Making your way in the world today
takes everything you’ve got.
Taking a break from all your worries
sure would help a lot.
Wouldn’t you like to get away?
Sometimes you want to go
Where everybody knows your name,
and they’re always glad you came.
You wanna be where you can see;
our troubles are all the same
You wanna be where everybody
knows your name.”
You wanna go where people know,
people are all the same,
You wanna go where everybody
knows your name.”
In the right environment, you should feel upgraded.
No more than about thirty days after I joined the church, Sister Cash came up to me after church and asked me about my family situation. She said she overheard one of the teenagers talking and they said I didn’t have a place to stay, that I was homeless. As soon as I told her I was homeless, she offered her home. And it wasn’t like she was well off. She and her husband, Brother Cash, had three children, Rodney, Raymond, and Renee. No one in the house was working and they were on assistance, but she treated me like family.
Being blessed with a roof over my head was only the beginning. A few months after looking for work, finding little odd jobs here and there, I was employed at the McDonalds right up the street from the church on Fenkell and Wyoming. The pastor kept preaching about returning a faithful tithe and offering, so by faith I took him up on his offer. I was a little skeptical at first. I wasn’t sure how the whole tithe and offering thing went, and I wasn’t sure how the church managed my money, but my thinking changed when he read Malachi 3:16:
Test me in this,” says the LORD Almighty, “and see if I will not throw open the floodgates of heaven and pour out so much blessing that there will not be room enough to store it. 11 I will prevent pests from devouring your crops, and the vines in your fields will not drop their fruit before it is ripe,” says the LORD Almighty. 12 “Then all the nations will call you blessed, for yours will be a delightful land,” says the LORD Almighty.
When I heard about how we should test God, I started thinking to myself I didn’t have much to lose in the first place. My ten-percent was around $60.00, if that. I wasn’t the smartest apple in the bunch, but if God was going to do all the pastor said he would do for $60.00, it was worth a shot. I looked at it like this, I spent $60.00 on a pair of shoes and Footlocker never promised me anything; and so many positive things had happened since I had become a part of the family, I would be a fool not to invest in the people who invested into me.
In the right environment, Big I’s and little you’s don’t exist.
Another thing I really appreciated about Pastor Willis and the way he ran the church was the fact that he didn’t tolerate pecking orders. It didn’t matter if people had Dr. in front of their name, MD behind it or if they were his own flesh and blood, he created an environment where everyone could be a stakeholder. Everyone was not only allowed to make suggestions about church growth and their voice was actually heard. Meetings were not just a formality; he was really interested in what all the members had to say. It didn’t matter if they were educated, uneducated, young or old, he would listen. In fact, one year we had a youth week of prayer and everyone who was willing to follow a few guidelines was allowed to make a presentation. He made his son follow the same guidelines and he divided the responsibilities between all the youth evenly.
The right environment allows you to set realistic expectations while simultaneously providing pressure.
I am not sure who ran their mouth, but word got back to Pastor Willis that I dropped out of school. Initially, he just asked me about it. Even though I was going to church regularly, I still had not been completely converted. I didn’t lie to the pastor about my school status, but I was extremely evasive. He didn’t say much at first, but he was a military man so I knew it wouldn’t take long before he turned up the heat and treated me like I was his son. “Son,” he said, “I need you to either go back to school or I need you to get your G.E.D. You have too much talent to waste your time on these streets. You are going to be something one day, so don’t allow this little obstacle to stand in your way. After you get your G.E.D. I am going to see to it that you go to college. In fact, I will personally write you a letter of recommendation.” I thought it was a very motivational display for a pastor. If I didn’t know any better I would have thought he meant every word he said, but I was too smart for that. I knew he only said it because he was a pastor and that’s what pastors do. He probably said that to every young person in his congregation. Plus, I had been told by teachers that I was a clown, and I wasn’t disciplined enough to go to college. So I dismissed the thought and kept going to church like we never had the conversation. That didn’t deter him much; a few weeks later in church, Sister Willis (our First Lady) came up to me and asked if I ever started working on that G.E.D. “I can’t believe pastor talked to you about that, I thought that was between the two of us?” I thought. She gave me that, I am his wife he tells me everything look. “No ma’am, I haven’t been back to school.” “Go get your G.E.D. baby and go to college,” she said as she gave me a big motherly hug and a soft kiss on the cheek. “I love you.”