Last Updated on 5 months by Joel Samuel McQueen
Part 1
Driving up the main avenue, the newly built Pentecostal church was hard to miss. It was big. In fact, the biggest thing in our village besides the government primary school a quarter mile down the road. But for all its size, the building lacked a certain churchy piousness. One could easily mistake it for a bread factory with it is low ceiling, small windows and long rectangular shape. On the inside things were not much better. For one the wood used in the construction of the pews, the doors and the pulpit was less thick and sturdy to that found in the big churches in town. As a whole, the church was uninspiring– except for one thing. Its leader was the fiery Pastor John.
Across the avenue and the river, stood a second church known as the Spiritual Baptists. The church’s location -behind God’s back– was no coincident either. In those days it was the general opinion of most on the island that Baptist were devil worshipers, idolators and religious outlaws for which they were subjected to police raids and even harassment. Because of this, the Baptists resorted to building their church at the edge of village for which they lacked both in electricity and flushing toilets. In fact, the government power company–which supplied electricity throughout the village including every shack, parlor and rum shop— somehow bypassed the Baptist. Until one day, a brave Baptist connected an illegal black cable to the lamppost on the avenue which was then fed across the river to the white wooden structure.
I was glad when they built the new Pentecostal church. Our old church in town, where I was christened, had proven to be too much for a family of ten and one small car. Every Sunday morning we were packed like sardines—sibling on the lap of sibling—as we drove to church in town. And to make matters worst, the service lasted for a grueling six hours by which time the drive back home on an empty stomach felt like an involuntary sacrifice. Luckily, the new church was conveniently located just down the hill–close enough that my mother allowed me to walk church alone. Not that I particularly cared for going to church in those days, but at least I could on occasion run home for a piece of bread and butter whenever hunger struck.
On any given Sunday about one hundred men, women and children from the surround villages packed the Pentecostal church to hear Pastor John preach. Like most preaches in those days, Pastor’s John qualifications were based entirely on a divine calling rather than the successful completion of seminary school. As a result, he wielded his charismatic voice and down to earth demeanor to sway the flock.
What follows is one of Pastor John’s sermons as I remember it. The reason why I recall it with such accuracy is because all of Pastor John’s sermons were based on two themes that he reconstituted every Sunday including the second coming of Christ and the condemnation of the Baptist just across the way.
Pastor John:
Pleasant good mornin my brothers and sisters in the LORD. I thank the LORD first and foremost for sending his son Jesus Christ to die for our sins. Give the LORD a hand. My brothers and sisters in the LORD I am so happy to be here with you this Sunday morning. I am so happy that the LORD wake me up this morning. And I had some tea to drink and a piece of bread to full meh belly. Brothers and sisters in this wicked world that we live in there are so many who go to bed hungry and so many more who went to bed but never wake up. And so we thank the LORD. Amen.
Congregation: Amen
Pastor John: Now the message this Sunday morning I have for you is being ready. Being read. Being ready brothers and sister for the time is at hand. The time is at hand. The time is at hand. And as the scripture says no man knoweth the day nor the hour when Christ shall return. No man know—not yuh mother, not yuh father, not yuh brother, yuh sister, yuh uncle, yuh aunt, not yuh wife, not yuh husband, grandfather, grandmother. I say nobody, nobody, nobody. And so brothers and sisters we must be ready, we must get ready, be ready. For he shall return like a thief in the night. Yuh know when a thief break in yuh house he doesn’t announce it. A thief never tell yuh he coming at such and such a time.
Congregation: Amen Pastor
Pastor John: And when he returns, he will gather the righteous from the unrighteous.
And what a sight to behold. Think how yuh sleeping with yuh husband in the night or yuh sleeping with yuh wife in the night and the next morning yuh wake and they gone. Brought up in the rapture. Or think a child crying for she mother and the child mother gone And a boy crying for he father gone.
As Pastor John paused to consider the flocks reception to his prophetic message, his sermon was interrupted by the clanging church bells of the Baptist across the way, which not only irritated him but caused him to lose his train of thought. He had know the Baptist well from his childhood growing up in grandmother’s village, he had come to despise their ways since becoming a Christian. Such anti-Christian ways included —the beating of African drums, the ritualistic burning of candles and incense, the wearing of long, showy garbs and headwraps made of West African Kente cloth and the elaborate handshakes and embraces that the devotes performed upon meeting each other. But most blasphemous of all was the Baptist’s icongrahy of Christ as a black man. And as the Baptist bell continued to ring, Pastor John felt compelled to change the course of his sermon. He would preach against the Baptist.
Pastor John: Brothers and sister in the lord, I am called to preach to you against the growing so called back to Africa Christian that has infected our beloved island. Such trouble makers, I say, have no place on our peaceful, God fearing island. In the old days, when I was a boy these people and them would hide in the bush, but today they brave. Brave and proud like cock in a hen coop.
Now the women and them dress with head wrap and gowns and sashes and cords and belts.
And the men and them with this long set of fabric down to the ground like they just come from Africa. My brothers and sisters in Christ, them only playing African. They nuh African. They playing the fool.
“We are not Africans. We are West Indians. We are Caribbean people. We are Christians! In Christ there is no color. He sees our heart not our skin. You could be red, yellow, black, white or pink we are precious in his sight. Amen!”
Congregation: Amen.
Part2
Pastor John’s sermon frightened me. His description of the Christian rapture had me thinking that one dayI might awake to find my mother and father had left me and gone to heaven. What would I do? Where would I go? That very evening as my father was eating his Sunday lunch in the gallery, I sought to ask him a few questions about becoming saved.
“Daddy, I looking to get saved” I said.
“Boy duh play the fool with meh. Yuh duh see meh eating,” said my father holding up a glass of sorrel to his mouth.”
“How so daddy,” I asked?
“Listen meh boy,” said my father, “yuh not at the stage in life when yuh could reason for yuh self to say yuh want to get save.”
“But daddy, if I don’t get save and the rapture come and you and mammy gone, I go end up in hill by meh self,” I replied.
“Boy yuh not easy nah,” said my father, “hell is for sinners and wicked people,” yuh not only enough to sin like them kind of people.” “You are covered under the LORD grace and the blood of Jesus.”
“So I not going straight to hell when the rapture come” I asked?
“Nah, I duh feel so,” he replied.
“So daddy where I go end up,” I asked again?
“Heaven, according to scripture,” he said emphatically.
Part3
The Sunday school for boys was located in a small clearing in the bush across the avenue from the main building. Each boy was responsible for carrying his bible and a foldable wooden chair to the outpost, from which we could hear the rushing river in the deep chasm behind us. I enjoyed reading the Bible outdoors, especially about the Old Testament prophets. To me, their daily lives were more intimately connected with God through his creations. Take Moses, for example, who spoke to God, himself, in the likeness of a burning bush. Or Father Abraham, who journeyed into the mountains to present Issac as sacrifice unto God. In some sense, I believe my understanding of these Bibilcal events were deeply enhanced by being in a natural setting surrounded by the green trees, the blue sky\, the river and the sun.
One Sunday morning a peculiar thing happened. We were visited in the bush by Pastor John. Upon his arrival, Pastor John quickly seated us in a circle then told us the news that our regular Sunday school teacher had not come to church and that he would take his place less we be starved of our spiritual food
“Good morning,” said Pastor John, “what have you fellas been learning in the word of God.”
“Good morning Pastor John,” replied the class.
“Mr. Roberts was teaching we from the book of Psalm,” said one boy.
“Yes,” said Pastor John “the book of Psalms.” “That is King David writing when he was dealing with his enemies that were lined up against him. So now tell me what chapter did Mr. Roberts teach on.”
“Psalm one ,” said one boy.
“Oh yes, I know it very well,” said Pastor John.
Pastor John:
Blessed is the man,” “that walketh not in the counsel of the ungodly.
Nor stand in the way of sinners; nor sit in the seat of the scornful
But his delight is the law of the Lord; And in this law he mediates day and night….
After Pastor John had delivered the entire Psalm, he encouraged us to learn it by heart and as well as meditate on it throughout the day.
“The main purpose in life is to trust in God and not man” he said.
“Why” I asked.
“Listen meh boy. Man go disappoint yuh every time and a woman never fails . But the LORD is your refugee and your strength.”
“How so,” I asked?
“How so. Let meh tell all yuh about how God save meh life.”
Part4
“It was twenty years ago during carnival season. Boy the devil was busy that day. Cause I was driving through town trying to get to Friday night pray meeting and all I seeing is half naked woman with they breast and backside parading on the road,” said Pastor John.
“So how yuh mange Pastor,” I asked?
“Well fellas I don’t lie to tell all yuh. Them women looking good to eat like ripe mango. And they prancing in they flimsy outfit. And in them days I still was young Pastor and meh faith wasn’t so strong as now. So boy what I do is I just keep meh head straight on the road and I don’t look left or right until I reach the church.”
“So what happen after that Pastor,” I asked.
“Well meh boy as soon as I enter the church trouble now take meh. I feel this heaviness over my spirit that weighing meh down. And so I watching everybody as I walk to the front of the church. I see Deacon Richard leading the prayer meeting with about ten other man and woman in attendance. Then I as I reach the pulpit and turn around to face the prayer meeting I see she.”
“Who yuh see Pastor,” asked the group?
“That bitch, excuse meh, the red woman, who try and thieve meh soul.”
“Oogodoh Pastor John, I never know yuh could curse so,” said one of the boys.
“And so what happen next Pastor,” I asked?
“Well fellas, I tell all yuh this now. But back then when this happen I didn’t know who she was.” But I watching this woman and every time I watch she, she turn away and when I turn way she watching meh. And she wearing this long white dress down to the floor. And she hair long down to past she back like one ah them Spanish woman but she still black.”
“And so what yuh do Pastor,” I asked?
“Fellas, I pull a verse from new testament to rebuke that spirit of lust and adultery that was
rising up in the church as well as in meh.” said Pastor John.
“What scripture yuh pull Pastor,” I asked?
“But I say unto you, That whosoever looketh on a woman to lust after her hath committed
adultery with her already in his heart.”
“What that mean Pastor John,” I asked.
“It mean meh boy that as Christians we must forsake the flesh and keep we eyes on the LORD,” said Pastor John.
“Pastor I don’t lie to tell yuh that go be real hard for some fellas the way them girls and them does be dressing in the street these days,” said one boy.
“True talk,” said the group.
“Well listen meh young fellas, if is one thing I know is that nothing in this world could bring down a man quicker than a bad woman,” said Pastor John, before leaving.
Pastor John’s departure had left us limbo, in which time our regular Sunday school teacher had returned to our study of the Psalms. That year I won second place in an oration competition held in the main church for reciting the first and twenty third Psalms– both which I remember to this day. Then, as sudden and unexpected as his first appearance, Pastor John returned to our outpost. Something about our Sunday school teacher bussing his big toe during a game of football was the reason for his absences Pastor John had said.
“Good morning my young flock in the body of Christ,” said Pastor John.
“Good morning Pastor John,” said the group.
“Today we will read from the book of …”
“But Pastor, we was waiting for yuh to tell we the remainder of the story for so long,” I said.
“All yuh boys don’t forget a thing,” said Pastor John smiling. “Ok where did I leave off.”
“Yuh was talking about …” I said.
“Yes,” said Pastor “I now remember…”
Part6
[The following accountant, dear reader, is the end of Pastor John’s story as told to us boys. I have shifted the perspective from which the story is told and I have also embellished a few scenes for entertainment purposes. The story, nevertheless, is still Pastor John’s.]
After the pray meeting that faithful Frida night, Pastor John found himself alone in the church. He collected the bibles and returned them into a tiny room behind the pulpit in which was also kept the communion trays, hymn books, ministry tracks and a crate filled with red wine used for the monthly communion. Pastor John had neatly stacked the Bibles and was about to leave when the thought entered his mind that a little glass of wine might hit the spot. On a bended knee and with a squinting focus, Pastor John inspected each bottle until he found what he was looking for–the wine bottle that had been replaced with strong rum.
“Ah, here she is,” he said, rising to his feet in victory.
The effect of the alcohol was immediate, drowning the spirit of lust that had so swiftly taken hold of him upon seeing the red woman at the pray meeting.
“One for me and one for de road,” he said before existing the church.
His back now turned to the street, Pastor John fumbled with the cluster of keys in the dark. At long last, the large skeleton key with decorated head that resembled a crown emerged from the bunch. He blindly pushed it into the key hole then turned it this way and that before hearing the satisfying click, which meant the lock had caught. He then turned and walked to his small car, all the while noticing a female figure from the corner of his eye. She was standing across the street under a lamppost. He had barley opened the car door when he heard a voice.
“Pastor John, you don’t remember meh,” said the stranger in a voice sweet like sugarcane.
“Who there?” cried Pastor John, squinting in the dark.
“Is me,” said the red woman posing under the lamppost.
“Me who,” he asked ?
Finally, he could make her out– the same big breasted, wide hip, red skinned woman who had sat in the pray meeting early that night.
“What a piece of work,” said Pastor John under his breath while groaning in his spirit.
He attempted to drive off but was blocked by a crowd of masqueraders making their way down the avenue for the jouvert celebration. From the side of the road, Pastor John watched the half-naked revelers and for the first time he casted no judgment.
“God forgive meh for what I is about to …,” he uttered under his breath before shutting down the car’s engine.
On his way to meet the stranger, something told him to take his big black Bible, which he tapped nervously against his left thigh along the road.
“I have meh eye on yuh woman and I want yuh,” said Pastor John boldly.
“Yuh think yuh could handle meh,” said the stranger, before dashing through the bush.
Pastor John, who was no stranger to hunting wild meat since boyhood days, chased her like a pot hound after a manicou.
Under the big yellow moon, he found her. She was standing frozen before a clap trap foot bridge beyond which sat the Baptist church glowing like a white diamond in the black cloth of night. The bridge, itself, was made of odd pieces of wood and rope and which swayed dangerously over the ravine. Quietly, he approached her and with an outstretched hand he sought to grab hold of her. Instead, she slipped through his fingers and across the bridge. Like a diver before the plunge, Pastor John contemplated the dangers of stepping onto forbidden Baptist land. As a child he was warned that any contact with the Baptist, even as much breeding the same air, risked one being blighted with Obeah. And so Pastor John did his best holding his breath as he crossed.
On the other side, the stranger appeared as if from thin air.
“Pastor John, look meh here” she cried as she walked along a narrow path besides the Baptist church that led into the mango gully. And for the first time, Pastor John noticed something peculiar in her movements, namely that her feet hardly touched the ground but seem to glide over it.
She stopped, and just like before waited for her pursuer. When Pastor John appeared, he was doubly out of breath, the result of having held his breath while trotting.
“Woman, yuh does move too fast for meh; I never work so hard for piece of wild meat yet,” said Pastor John.
She didn’t answer him but simply smiled.
“And another thing,” said Pastor John,” I don’t want you to feel no way but the way yuh walking does throw meh off.”
“How so,”?
“Yuh walking funny Miss Lady.”
“Who you calling funny, me,” asked the red woman.
“Yes you,” said Pastor John,” “I watching yuh foot and them and I can’t even make out nothing under that long dress yuh have on.”
“Who me,” asked the stranger once more?
“Yes, is you I talking to. I want to know how come I can’t see yuh foot and them under the dress.”
“ I duh hiding nothing Pastor.”
“Is that so. Well raise up yuh dress and let meh see.”
“But Pastor …” cried the red woman.
“Raise up the dress,” raise up the dress, raise up the flipping dress for meh please Miss. lady,” demanded Pastor John in a preachy tone.
Finally, the stranger obeyed. But instead raising her dress, she pulled it down to the floor by the straps, revealing a pair of shockingly large, full breasts the likes of which Pastor John had never seen.
“All is yours Pastor,” cried the red woman , before slipping away into the thick gully.
Like any man would , Pastor John took the bait, running behind the red woman to his end.
The next day the gully awoke with a symphony of wild sounds made possible by the multitude of the LORD’s creatures–bats, birds, bugs, ants, termites, mosquitoes, snakes, plants and trees. Despite the intense tropical heat that baked the rest of the village during the day, the gully remained cool, protected as it was by a canopy of mango trees. At the foot of one such tree laid the naked body of Pastor John. He was still asleep when several of the gully’s animals came in for a closer look. First came a green frog which hopped up on his chest believing he was a dead log. Followed by a bush snake which had found its way up Pastor John legs and was about to take hold of his member when an observant grey owl swopped down for his first meal of the day. And for this kind deed, the owl defecated on his lifeless body in mid-flight.
Finally awake, Pastor John looked up and could see the sun beaming through the opening in the canopy. It all was coming back to him.
“That woman was Lagabless,” he cried under his breath, “the Lord saved me.”
Then he felt beneath his head what he first thought was a big stone. But in fact, it was his Bible.
Fantastic story, completely engaged me and overall enthralling. I will read more.