White men can't dance...except maybe Ben

Saturday morning my buddy Tim and I made the long trek from the west over to South St Paul to partake of a monthly men's breakfast that NightWriter's church puts on for guys from Teen Challenge. The breakfast itself was fantastic, and John's message was, as usual, full of meaningful and practical applications on living our lives as men of God. One of the true highlights though of these gatherings is the praise and worship that happens in between.

Brother Earl, from a church in Coon Rapids that co-sponsors the event and hosts it every other month, leads the singing. He's a gifted Black preacher, and probably half to three quarters of the guys there are Black, and the worship music tends to be a little more soulful than what is found in your typical Minnesota suburban/country church. These guys really get into the praise and worship, and it is an awesome sight to see so many guys praising God from their hearts.

So on Saturday, there's about 73 guys bouncing and jumping and dancing away during the worship, including Ben who was standing (bouncing around) next to me. Tim and I are both standing, like statues, singing away, with maybe an occasional swaying in beat with the music. We looked like your typical staid Norwegian Lutherans listening to A Mighty Fortress is Our God, even though I was raised a Polish Catholic, which is probably worse. At one point, one of the brothers who is a counselor from Teen Challenge, and who truly puts emotion into his worship, comes and stands next to Tim, and starts mimicking our body posture. He then breaks up laughing and continues on his way, joyfully praising God.

Well, you know the saying---you can't judge a book by it's cover. I may look like a statue on the outside, but on the inside I was moving like James Brown.