‘Mmmmm-hm! That’s a truf,’ the old woman said.
‘And the only thing that’s a bad mornin’ is a mornin’ that you wake up an’ you don’t find Jesus in your heart.’
‘Yes, Lord!’ That was Miss Alexander.
‘Oh, yeah! When you wake up and Jesus ain’t wichya, then it truly is a bad day. Not only for you but for every one of us in the congregation!’
‘Amen,’ a few voices said.
‘Because Jesus loves ya! He loves ya and he wants you to do right. An’ what is right? To have Jesus in your heart. That’s all. Because if you got Jesus with ya you ain’t never gonna do bad. Jesus won’t let ya do bad if you let him in. He won’t let you go astray. No he won’t. The Lord is gonna stick by you just as long as you stick by him. He’s gonna be a extra pair of eyes to see wrong...’
‘Amen, brother, show me them eyes,’ the shrimpy man in the baggy pants said from the piano bench.
‘I don’t need to show you, Brother Decker. I don’t need to show ya because the Lord will show you. He will show you out from temptation and you won’t even feel bad because the love of the Lord is greater than money! It’s greater than love of a woman or a man! It’s greater than freedom!’
I could feel the congregation tense up at those last words.
‘Yes, chirren, the love of the Lord is greater than anything you can have or desire. The love of the Lord is greater than anything.’ He stopped and ran his eyes across the congregation. ‘Anything that you can have or desire. Anything. If you see a new dress, sister, and you think that that dress is gonna make you as beautiful as Sheba, as beautiful as Cleopatra...’ He stopped, looking around again, and then smiled a knowing smile... ‘But we all know that beauty passes, don’t we?’
He opened his eyes wide, and a few laughs broke in the audience.
‘You look in the mirror from one day to the next and you’ll see what I mean.’ I glanced back at Reese.
The minister went on, ‘You young ones might not know it today, but don’t worry, the Lord is gonna forgive ya. You give him a chance, a half a chance, just a glimmer, a bare sliver of a chance, and the Lord is gonna forgive ya. He will. I know it because he has saved me.’
We were with him then, every soul in that church. And God was with us.
‘I was a sinner. Oh yes, Lord, I was a big sinner. I lied and cheated and you know the Lord don’t hold with no liar. I hated it but I couldn’t help myself because if the Lord ain’t wichya then you know that the devil is.’
‘If the Lord ain’t wichya, you know the devil is.’
‘And the devil was with me and I did his handiwork. You do it too. Oh yes you do! Don’t sit back there and tell me that the Lord don’t slip away from you sometimes when you see another woman wearin’ that pretty dress an’ you cain’t afford it. Don’t tell me that ‘cause that’s a lie and lyin’ is sin. Men and women is born to sin and the only way out is lettin’ Jesus in your heart. You cain’t help it, no you cain’t. You men see a pretty girl an’ you know what you feelin’ is wrong but you cain’t help it, you cain’t. You not gonna do it by yo’self! You need the Lord to help you do right.’
He paused and took a glass of water from the piano. Somehow he made drinking a part of the sermon. You could tell that his sermon had just come to him as if God had flown down into him as he took the podium. No one was talking, no one was looking around, no one shifted in their chair. God was in the room with us in the shape of a fat minister about the color of coffee with three spoons of cream stirred in.
Perspiration had broken out over the minister’s forehead. He took a fine white handkerchief from his pocket and ran it across his brow, then wiped his hands. By the time he was finished with his hands his head was beaded up again.
‘I’m sorry, brothers and sisters,’ he said with his head bowed. ‘I have another sermon to give and you know I don’t believe in a long sermon but today something got in me. That happens sometimes. When you let the Lord in there’s no tellin’ what might happen. The Lord might pick you up and throw you across the world. You could be a young girl on the farm until the Lord picks you up and makes you a general at the head of a great army. Yes he can... He might, he might.’ Reverend Peters got quiet then and it seemed like he’d lost his place. Sweat was running off his head but he didn’t bother with it.
After a long moment he said, ‘You all know about Job. How he was a rich man and a family man, a man who had the respect of not only his fellow man but the love and the respect of God.’
The words left such a silence in the room that I had to stifle an urge to shout.
‘Yes.’ The minister was calm now. ‘God loved him but he needed Job to prove that he deserved that love. Oh yeah, because you got to prove yourself to the Lord. He’s not gonna open up his great kingdom of heaven if you’re not worthy. And how is he to know if you’re worthy unless he tests you?
‘And the Lord took away Job’s thousands of sheep and took away his thousands of camels. The Lord brought disease, death, and division on Job’s family. And when the Lord was through, Job was a terrible sight to behold. He’d lost his wife, his chirren, his money, his health, Job had even lost his self-respect. He tore at his breast and wished that he was never born! His friends and people betrayed him and God turned a deaf ear.’ When the minister looked out you could see tears rolling with the sweat down his face. ‘And Job doubted. Who wouldn’t? Even if all you had was one dress and a tin pan - if someone took that and left you with nothin’ you’d be tempted to despair. And we know that it’s the devil causes despair. Think of Job; he was a rich man! A respected man! You don’t let that go without some tears and some bitterness. But when he realised that all he had taken for granted could be taken from him, Job was amazed. He wasn’t angry at God. He was angry that he had loved God for the wrong reasons. Because even in poverty, even with nothing, Job realised he had God within him. There was love and grace inside. And Job was saved.
‘You might think that this is a simple story. Something you learn in Sunday school; a Bible story for children to remember if hard times should strike. And that’s what I thought about it too. But you know I was turnin’ soil last Thursday, ‘cause you know I’m just like the rest of ya: son of a sharecropper, salt of the earth. I was watchin’ the soil turn up under the plow like water in the wake of a great boat, and I thought, “This land belongs to God.” It’s for sure it don’t belong to me or any of you here this morning. We all know whose name it is on the deeds to all our places and even on this buildin’ we prayin’ in.’
I remembered Miss Dixon’s fears and I thought that maybe she was right.
‘I remembered the poverty of my daddy’s sharecroppin’ days. And I thought about Job; how the very ground from under him fell away and all he had left was the deaf ear of God. I wondered, “What did Job eat when he had lost everything?” And I knew even then that Job scratched in the ground and hunted in the wild and he lived off fish from the lakes. He created a life from God’s greatest gifts: the mind and the heart and the land too.
‘You might wonder why I tell you this. It’s because I see a day coming when the Lord is gonna test us. He’s gonna pull the land away from us and he’s gonna strike down with his open hand and smash away this village. He’s gonna take it all and the only thing you’ll have left is your wits and the love of Jesus in your hearts. You’ll have to make your way against a terrible storm. Your hearts will be full of tears but remember, it’s God testin’ you. He’s lookin’ to see that you love him as the spirit not just for the fleshly desires he can satisfy. And he needs to know that you will survive to praise his name.’
The minister let his head fall forward. The room had the silence of grace in it. Everybody, from Reese Corn to Sweet William to Miss Alexander, everybody felt a mighty presence. Not necessarily a presence of love or even salvation. But there was truth in the room; it was almost solid it was so real.