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Church for deaf celebrates 20 years in Mason | Cincinnati.com | The Cincinnati Enquirer
Their silence said it all.
When they couldn't find words to express their faith, the small group turned to their hands.
They clapped, falling in line with the rhythm of the music that reverberated from the speakers to the pews. They raised their arms in praise. They used sign language to put words to songs and scriptures they couldn't hear.
It was all part of a culture created at Deaf Missionary Baptist Church years ago to help the deaf feel welcome at a church of their own. Members celebrated the 20th anniversary this weekend, and its place as one of only a handful of churches to serve the deaf community in the region.
"They come to a place where they can feel comfortable," said the Rev. Andrew Gregory, pastor of the Mason Road congregation, now known as Lighthouse Baptist Church of the Deaf. "People who come here know that God speaks their language."
Taking off his gray suit jacket, the Rev. Emmanuel Sterlin of New York warned a group of 50 or so visitors that he wouldn't hold back his emotions.
"I'm not a sissy preacher. I'm on fire for the Lord," the deaf man said in his rushed, sometimes broken speech, as he signed his message.
He clapped his hands, stomped his feet, and at one point, jumped on the front pew to grab the crowd's attention.
"God is good," Sterlin shouted.
The crowd signed, some yelled back, "All the time." One man said, "Amen."
Music for the hearing, and bass for the non-hearing, filled the room.
Four: 24, a local dance group, performed, using motions to express their emotions and their mouths to imitate the words of songs.
Church-goers moved from side to side.
No one gave disapproving glances when an infant girl cried. No one noticed when the door creaked as people walked into the service late.
Sermons are open to everyone. Interpreters relay the message as the words are signed.
Scott Huston, of Mason, said the church helped him find his purpose in the ministry.
"I struggled with learning how to work for the Lord in a hearing church," said Huston, 58, one of the founding members, through an interpreter. "Here it's obvious the deaf can serve and teach others."
Melissa Gregory, the pastor's wife, visited countless churches as a child.
But she never felt at home. It was difficult, she recalled, to read lips, follow the sermon and watch interpreters.
"It was too much," the 39-year-old Fairfield resident said through her husband. "And then I came here, and everything I'd been searching for my whole life, a church home, I finally found it. It was all so clear."
Their silence said it all.
When they couldn't find words to express their faith, the small group turned to their hands.
They clapped, falling in line with the rhythm of the music that reverberated from the speakers to the pews. They raised their arms in praise. They used sign language to put words to songs and scriptures they couldn't hear.
It was all part of a culture created at Deaf Missionary Baptist Church years ago to help the deaf feel welcome at a church of their own. Members celebrated the 20th anniversary this weekend, and its place as one of only a handful of churches to serve the deaf community in the region.
"They come to a place where they can feel comfortable," said the Rev. Andrew Gregory, pastor of the Mason Road congregation, now known as Lighthouse Baptist Church of the Deaf. "People who come here know that God speaks their language."
Taking off his gray suit jacket, the Rev. Emmanuel Sterlin of New York warned a group of 50 or so visitors that he wouldn't hold back his emotions.
"I'm not a sissy preacher. I'm on fire for the Lord," the deaf man said in his rushed, sometimes broken speech, as he signed his message.
He clapped his hands, stomped his feet, and at one point, jumped on the front pew to grab the crowd's attention.
"God is good," Sterlin shouted.
The crowd signed, some yelled back, "All the time." One man said, "Amen."
Music for the hearing, and bass for the non-hearing, filled the room.
Four: 24, a local dance group, performed, using motions to express their emotions and their mouths to imitate the words of songs.
Church-goers moved from side to side.
No one gave disapproving glances when an infant girl cried. No one noticed when the door creaked as people walked into the service late.
Sermons are open to everyone. Interpreters relay the message as the words are signed.
Scott Huston, of Mason, said the church helped him find his purpose in the ministry.
"I struggled with learning how to work for the Lord in a hearing church," said Huston, 58, one of the founding members, through an interpreter. "Here it's obvious the deaf can serve and teach others."
Melissa Gregory, the pastor's wife, visited countless churches as a child.
But she never felt at home. It was difficult, she recalled, to read lips, follow the sermon and watch interpreters.
"It was too much," the 39-year-old Fairfield resident said through her husband. "And then I came here, and everything I'd been searching for my whole life, a church home, I finally found it. It was all so clear."