We pulled in the parking lot with some trepidation. We'd heard that
the friend of Mryt's had had her car broken into on a Sunday night in
this very parking lot. The neighborhood was poor but had the cache of
charisma about it, like a movie set. The church was called "Higher
Ground Always Abounding Asssembly" and we were there to hear the choir
"High Praise Company".
We walked in feeling self-consicous given our extreme whitness. Three
black youths stood by the doorway and looked us over. Once inside, we
took our conspicuous seats in the sanctuary, which was dominated by a
circular stained glass window of Christ tending sheep and huge twin glass
structures on either side with large amounts of water streaming though
them. It was hypnotizing. The concert was scheduled to start at 7pm,
but Carole, the black friend of Myrt's, warned us that these things don't
start on time. That was the first thing I noticed - the laid-back
attitude towards time. The Irish used to be called the black Englishmen,
in part because of a similar relaxed attitude towards time. By 7:40
things started up. I felt like an extra in an Eddie Murphy movie.
We started up with a praise and worship service. Much clapping, lots of
following directions on lifting hands up (and they say the Mass is hard
to follow?). We had to turn to our partner and repeat to them
spiritual-slang phrases that the pastor had expressed. I turned to
Steph. But then the leader had us do it to the person on our right, who
in my case was a large black guy. He was probably thinking, "damn my
luck."
A large black man in an all-brown, shiny leather soon strode up to
the front and said "Y'all know I have the hardest job today. I got get
some money out of you. Colored folks need to support their own." (Steph
later told me that she thought this meant we wouldn't have to
contribute).
"Will every man here willing to give $50 or $100 please stand up."
No one stood for a bit, then three or four extremely well-dressed
men stepped up and put money into a purple-clothed inlaid basket. (Of
course nearly everyone was very well-dressed; the gent beside me was in a
suit and tie and cufflinks while I wore dockers and a denim shirt).
"Will every man here willing to give $20 please stand."
After some uncomfortable moments, ten or twenty men made their way
to the front.
"Okay. Now, I want everyone here who is not a woman to stand up."
Hmm…how do I get out of this one? I stood up. I was now triply
conspicuous - I was white, ill-dressed and standing.
"Who is willing to give $5 or $10 to the Lord?"
Most went up, including a rare white man. (I'd guess there were 3
or 4 besides us out of a couple hundred or so people). I went up too,
and donated $5.
I sat down with relief and was surprised that he asked for $3, $2,
or $1 donations. Three or four younger guys came up and donated that.
They then did the same routine with the ladies, though Steph and Myrt
cheated by giving their $5s for Carole to bring up.
By 9:00 the choir finally came up and began their set. The songs
were not your daddy's gospel - they were much speeded up with lots of
percussion. No "Amazing Grace" here. They were all self-written tunes
that allowed the singers to display the range of their voices, which was
spectacular. The songs often expressed lines like "Praise and Glorify
Him" over and over and over that had an almost mesmerizing effect, like a
chant almost.
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