Second Sunday

by Michele Andrea Bowen

  As the chords of “My Heavenly Father Watches over Me” rang out in the sanctuary, folks realized that their pastor and First Lady were not caught up in the fracas. Instead, they were on their knees, calling on the Lord to bring healing to the church. Some of the scufflers immediately dropped to their knees, while others made their way to the altar. Within minutes, the tension and anger that had gripped the church had begun to fade, replaced by an air of warmth and peace.

  When George and Sheba stood and faced the congregation, they saw Cleavon sitting in the back of the church with his face all twisted up. George just stared at him, astonished at his nerve, but Sheba left her husband’s side to confront him. She said, “You punk. You get on your knees and pray for your church, or take yourself and the mess you made of out of here.”

  Cleavon had stood up defiantly and was ready to walk out, when it struck him that Sheba had called him out of his name.

  “My name ain’t ‘You punk.’ Sheba, you better use my name when you talk to me.”

  “Can’t do that.”

  “What?” Cleavon said, as George eyed his wife curiously, wondering what was up.

  “You punk, I once overheard you bragging to Latham that Rev. Earl Hamilton would be the pastor of this church, or your name was not Cleavon O’Rell Johnson. Well, he’s not the pastor of this church. So I guess Cleavon is not your name.”

  Epilogue

  On the Second Sunday in June, Gethsemane Missionary Baptist Church celebrated its hundred-year anniversary. Over the past nine months, it had been nearly devastated by a raging storm of trial and tribulation. But thanks to the faith of its steadfast members, the church had emerged from that storm not only intact but with a rainbow of blessings curved over it.

  Folks came to church on the anniversary dressed like it was Easter Sunday. The morning service was so hot that it left some members shouting and praising the Lord all the way to their cars. Thirteen people, including Warlene and Old Daddy, got saved and became candidates for Baptism. Seven more people came up to be baptized on the spot. Nine rededicated their lives to Christ. Twenty-eight people received the Holy Ghost and the gift of tongues. And so many people got anointed and slain in the Spirit, there were folks laying out on the floor all over the sanctuary.

  The afternoon service, with its special hundred-year-celebration concert, promised to be even more spirit-filled—“a hot Holy Ghost good time,” in Mozelle’s words. The concert was the debut of the church’s newest choir, the King’s Men, or as they called themselves, the KMs. The KMs had been founded by Jackson Williams, who felt the church needed a chorus to showcase its best male singers—with himself being one of them, a tenor who could put Dennis Edwards of the Temptations to shame.

  For this special day, Sheba was elegant in a violet silk suit, with her hair done in the same French roll of cornrowed braids that Sylvia had designed for her wedding. Her makeup was natural and sweet—soft gray shadow on her eyelids, glowing blush on her cheeks, and rich pink lipstick specially selected by Precious to complement her outfit.

  George looked down at Sheba from the pulpit and gave his First Lady a sexy wink. He loved the way she always grinned and lowered her eyes when he did it. Then he gazed out over the congregation, lifting up his hands to declare, “God is a good God. Say ‘Amen,’ church.”

  “Amen, Pastor.”

  “Say ‘Hallelujah,’ church!”

  “Hallelujah!”

  “Say ‘Praise the Lord,’ church!”

  “Praise the Lord!”

  “Now look at the person next to you and say, ‘Neighbor, my God don’t play. That’s why I trust in Him each and every day.’”

  Everybody looked to their right or left and repeated, “Neighbor, my God don’t play. That’s why I trust in Him each and every day.”

  “Y’all ready to have some more church?”

  “Yes, Lawd,” some folks hollered out.

  “Well, let’s get this show on the road. Church, the King’s Men.”

  George took his seat beside Sheba, enjoying the chance to do something a pastor rarely could—sit with his wife in church. Taking her hand, George wondered again why it had taken him so long to understand that this woman was the answer to his prayers—all he could ever want in a wife and helpmeet.

  The musicians came out first. There were twelve of them, nine men and three women, dressed in black tuxedos and black formal gowns—pianist, organist, bass player, lead guitar, conga drummer, drummer, trumpet and French horn player, tenor and alto saxophonists, flutist, and violinist. Tuning their instruments, they struck up the chords of the first song, a funky gospel-blues piece.

  Two ushers opened the double doors at the back of the church, revealing the KMs in formation, with Mr. Louis Loomis leading the pack. He led them down the center aisle to the halfway point, where they stopped and stood rocking from side to side, just feeling the rhythm and letting everybody get a good look at them. Each KM was wearing a powder blue leisure suit, a black silk big-collared shirt, a silver chain, and a black suede hat; and each carried a black cane.

  Mr. Louis Loomis searched the sanctuary for Louise, who was sitting with Bertha, holding her new great-grandson. When he caught her eye and saw her smile, he broke into a rhythmic strut down the aisle, with the rest of the choir behind him. Then, one by one, each KM removed his hat to the beat of the music, from the oldest members—Mr. Louis Loomis and Joseaphus Cantrell—down to the youngest—Melvin Jr. and Jackson Williams.

  When they reached the choir stand, they laid their hats on the seats behind them, handed their canes to waiting ushers, and started moving with the music. Then Mr. Louis Loomis stepped up to the microphone. With the funky beat of the song going whommp de whommp, de whommp whommp whommp whommp, Mr. Louis Loomis started singing, like a raspy James Cleveland:

  “The devil gone try and keep you all down. But like that old goat in a story, every time that old devil throw dirt on your head, pack it down with your feet and come out ahead. ’Cause God’s got your back, when you down in a hole, He’ll get you out, if the story be told . . .”

  The chorus joined in on the vamp, “He’ll get you out, if the story be told, if the story be told.”

  As their voices soared across the sanctuary, wrapping the church up in their powerful and anointed music, the KMs started clapping and stomping, and the congregation joined in. You couldn’t just hear this song, it ran all through you, and it felt good. Mr. Louis Loomis repeated the verse, then effortlessly ran a smooth ad-lib around the chorus. As the choir sang, “He’ll get you out,” Mr. Louis Loomis intoned, between the lines, “If the story be told. If the story be told . . .”

  Immersed in the music, Mr. Louis Loomis started getting happy. Grabbing the microphone off the stand, he danced down to the front of the altar and leaped high in the air. As he landed, he kicked out a leg, clutching his infamous belt, and called out “Laaawwwwd” in a shout-scream. Already at a fever pitch from the singing, the crowd matched the shout with their own praise, calling out, “Sang, sang, sang,” “God is up in here today,” “Praise the Lord,” and even one “Don’t hurt yourself now.”

  After one more verse and a final holler from Mr. Louis Loomis, the song came to an abrupt end, with that cutoff that gospel choirs have down to an art form. But the congregation, still clapping, stomping, and dancing in place, couldn’t let go of the song. Miss Mozelle started singing the verse in her rich contralto until another woman and then a man joined in. They were sounding too good, and the KMs had to rise to that challenge and start singing again. They sang a cappella at first, and then the musicians got happy and lit into the song, sparking a Holy Ghost fire in the church.

  And that was all it took for the rest of the congregation to get happy and cut loose shouting, spilling from the pews into the aisles to work out. Sheba hopped up and started dancing right at the altar with such fervor that Louise leaned over and whispered to Mozelle, who was now seated, “Girl, King David didn’t have nothing on that chile.”

&nbs
p; As the music broke over her like a wave, Sheba lost herself in the rhythm, dancing so fast that her feet were a dizzying blur. The whole church was lit up, the air electric with calls and cries of praise to God. Phoebe searched for Jackson in the sea of dancing, shouting folk but didn’t see him until he sprinted past her, breathlessly shouting, “Jesus!”

  The Holy Ghost was shooting through George, filling his heart with praise and rejoicing. He had been through a storm, and the Lord had brought him out with such a mighty victory, his clothes didn’t even get wet. As the Holy Ghost slammed down on him, he fell in step with his wife up in front of the church, dancing with all his heart, and all his soul, and all his might. They were husband and wife, deeply in love, coming together before the Lord, giving up the praise to the Heavenly Father and worshiping Him as one.

  But no one forgot that the Gethsemane Missionary Baptist Church Centennial Celebration almost didn’t happen. When Clydell Forbes died, the church came close to dying itself, almost losing the spiritual fortitude to get back up and walk on faith. It had learned—at times, the hard way—that God don’t play, and that if He is for you, can’t nobody even think about standing against you. And that was definitely a reason to dance and shout and keep the songs ringing out, and the high praise going late into the night of that Second Sunday. For as Nettie told Bert, “If the celebration keep on going like this, we gone walk out this church and step right on up to glory.”

  Reading Group Guide

  Reading Group Guide

  1.Upon the death of Rev. Forbes, the Gethsemane Missionary Baptist Church found itself with the need for a pastor. The women of the church became frustrated at being excluded in the search process. Should they have held their peace or were they right to plan their own little revolution? How would you argue a woman’s right to have a say or the biblical requirement for women to be silent in the church? Read Numbers 30; 1 Timothy 2:8-15; Numbers 27; Matthew 28:1-10; Galatians 3:26-29.

  2.How do the criteria for pastor and the procedure utilized by the search committee of Gethsemane compare to what the Bible suggests? Read 1 Samuel 16:6-7, 13; Acts 1:14-15, 21-25; Acts 6:5-6; 1 Timothy 3:1-7.

  3.What is your opinion of some of the candidates? Which ones were more suitable and which ones were unqualified? Has finding appropriate pastors and church leaders always been a problem or is it something that has become more of a challenge in modern times? Read Matthew 7:15-20; Acts 13: 6-12; Acts 8:9-24; Philippians 1:12-18.

  4.a. The American Worship Center represents a now established trend in modern church growth: large, multiethnic congregations with leadership that is controlled by one race. Are there reasons why Christians should practice cross-cultural worship? Read Isaiah 11:6-9; Isaiah 56:1-8; Acts 2:1-11; Romans 10:12-13; Romans 15:7-13.

  b.Are there reasons why churches should maintain cultural identity? Read Isaiah 60:1-3; Mark 7:24-30; Acts 6:1.

  c.How might Christians promote the kingdom of God in the world by the way they engage in cross-cultural relationships in the church? Read Matthew 22:34-40; 1 John 2:7-11.

  5.At Gethsemane, Sheba had four children without a husband and Bertha was pregnant without a husband. Many black churches have a high percentage of single mothers within the congregation. Historically, women have borne the guilt and shame of sexual sin. Why are men relieved of responsibility while women are made to suffer? Read Deuteronomy 22:13-21; Numbers 5:11-31; 2 Samuel 13:1-20.

  6.How should sexual sin be handled in the church? Should it be thought of differently from any other sin? Read Matthew 7:1-5; 1 Corinthians 5:9-13; Romans 3:21-24.

  7.Bertha left her church because of guilt and shame. How do women begin to release the burden of guilt and shame produced by sexual sin, whether forced, coerced, or consensual? How do women begin the healing process?

  a.Pray—Psalm 51

  b.Remember God forgives—Psalm 103:1-14

  c. Know that nothing can separate you from God—Romans 8:31-39

  d.Love yourself—Matthew 22:34-40

  e.Be self-controlled—1 Corinthians 7:8-9

  f. Do not stir up love until it is ready!—Song of Solomon 3:1-5

  8.Mozelle and Oscar represent a pattern in marriage in which the wife lives in abject submission to her husband. The marriage of Nettie and Bert demonstrates a different model. SECOND SUNDAY portrays the happiest marriages as those wherein partnership is practiced. Is this biblical? Read 1 Corinthians 7:3-5; Philippians 2:1-4; Ephesians 4:1-6, 14-16; Ephesians 5:21-33; Acts 18:12, 18, 24-26.

  9.As that final meeting at Gethsemane demonstrates, church meetings can be challenging. Is conflict bad? How can churches carry out their business without resorting to violent or manipulative tactics? Read Amos 3:3; Matthew 5:9; Matthew 18:15-20; Psalm 133; 1 Thessalonians 5:12-23; Philippians 2:14-15.

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  Yvonne moved to a more comfortable chair and got settled just as a pulsating, high praise song came on while still photos of Grady Grey, along with his wife, First Lady, Prophetess Linda Grey and their four children, flashed across the screen. The choir, which had roughly eighteen members on the set, sounded like a powerful seventy-five voice mass choir.

  Their attire was simple, neat, and on the conservative side of ‘ghetto fabulous.’ The women were dressed in black, oxford styled cotton shirts, white, knee-length, A-line skirts, black stockings, and white flats with black patent leather bows on the toe. The men wore the same styled shirts, baggy fitting, khaki pants worn low on the hips, and black Timberlands.

  Yvonne, who had never paid any attention to the ‘Half an Hour of Holy Ghost Power’ when her kids were watching it, said,

  “Do they have on white skirts and black stockings?”

  “Shhh!” was the only answer she got.

  Those black stockings up under those white skirts got a rise out of Yvonne. But she had to scoot her chair up closer to the TV screen to get a better look at the pastor and first lady, who were dressed in a vivid display of ‘urban fashion-wear’ that could only be purchased at the stores you didn’t even know existed until you passed them on the way to your Cousin ‘Naye Naye’ and ‘Boo Boo’ and ‘June Bug’ and ’nem’s house.

  First off, they only adorned themselves in matching his and her ‘Saint Suits’ in turquoise, red, powder blue, hot pink, lemon yellow, peach, and purple. On this particular show, Linda Grey was wearing a lime green, brocade satin suit, with a matching lime green hat, shoes, and stockings. The hat had a very flat crown with a wide brim that had been fashioned from yards of pleated lime green satin that was further accentuated with the rhinestones that were sprinkled across the entire hat. Apostle Grady Grey had on a lime green clerical robe with a silver collar and cuffs that had been made from the same bolt of fabric used to make his wife’s suit. His shoulder length Jheri Curl was freshly done and styled so that the silver sprinkled lightly through his hair picked up on the silver on his robe.

  “Elaine, people still give curls?”

  Elaine sighed and nodded in resignation—seemed like the Jheri Curl would never, ever go away. No matter how hard she prayed for black men who used to be slick 1980s players to be delivered of this affliction, the good Lord had yet to answer her prayer and take this ‘thorn’ away.

  The song faded and Grady Grey stood before the cameras with such a warm and sincere smile spreading across his face, it almost made you want to forget that he was standing on TV dressed like the Starsky and Hutch character, Huggie Bear’s second cousin on his mama’s side.

  “Durham, North Carolina, I greet you in the matchless name of our Lord and Savior Jesus Christ. I don’t know what the weather is like for those of you watching this show. But all I can say is that God is so good because He has blessed me with a beautiful day. I mean it, viewers. Today is gorgeous.

  “And let me tell yo
u a lil’ somethin’-somethin’—if you’ve ever been in a place where you can’t see the sky, you’ll never ever fall short of praising God for a beautiful day again. We have the sick and shut in, and people in jails and prisons around this great state who would give anything to walk outside and feel the warm rays of the sun bathing their faces.”

  “He is so flamboyant,” Rochelle said. “But it is the strangest thing. The man is for real when it comes to the Lord, and just as humble and sweet when you run up on him in Durham.”

  “Yeah,” Elaine agreed. “Everybody who meets Grady in person, says that he is the sweetest and kindest man they have ever met.”

  “Well, that is nothing but the truth,” Miss Hattie Lee chimed in. “I remember Grady being sweet when he was working out of that shed. He always gave his older customers an extra senior discount, he personally delivered their stuff to their houses, set up any equipment that required assembly, and would come back and make sure everything was okay from time to time.”

  Grady moved to a new part of his set, where the chairs were set up talk-show style—and sat down opposite a short, stocky man, whose arms were so thick and muscular, they looked like they were about to rip the arms of the suit he was wearing in two.

  “What does that man have on?” Yvonne asked.

  Rochelle, the girls, and even her parents kept telling her to watch this show. But she had been too busy, or absorbed in something ‘important’ to come and watch it with them. Now she wished that she’d listened because this thing was getting good.

  “A silver lamé, three-piece suit with a black satin shirt and tie,” Rochelle answered, mesmerized at the shiny suit and how the set lights kept bouncing prisms of color off of it.