Saturday, January 27, 2018

Both “Holla”and Help Somebody

"Black Preaching is like the playing of an old Motown hit, no matter what the contemporary or popular genre is, old-school Black Preaching still moves the listener. Kirk Byron Jones in his comparative view of jazz and preaching has said that when jazz is truly swinging, the world is challenged to present a greater manifestation of joy.[i] Likewise, old-school Black Preaching that is birthed from the joy of the preacher brings joy to the listener and causes the sleeping soul to dance the way it use to dance. The rhetorical approaches and holy utterances of yesteryear that were liberating, comforting, and hopeful back then are still capable of moving the hearts and minds of modern-day listeners as well as helping to bridge the generational gap between congregants.

Furthermore, old-school Black Preaching whereby both biblical and non-biblical “holy sayings”are contextualized with appropriate commentary and partnered with sound biblical hermeneutics and congregational exegesis can become the music that directs the dance between the preacher and church member. I can recall how countless wedding receptions, birthday parties, and retirement ceremonies that included formal addresses, dinner, and dance became truly festive and how new memories were created and relationships were re-established after a rhythmic old-school jam like Marvin Gaye’s “Got to Give it Up,”Frankie Beverly’s “Before I Let Go,”Al Green’s “Love and Happiness,”or Marcia Griffiths’“Electric Slide”rang out.

Noticeably, attendees of different generations collided together on the floor—dancing and relating to the same rhythm and song that reverberated love, community, and happiness.  I believe that the preaching of some of our non-biblical ancestral and holy sayings that were formed from our Christian experience, with many written as spirituals or hymns, have that same effect within the dancehall of liturgical preaching. In order to become the music that compels each one to dance and become acquainted with their partner, the meaning of these holy sayings must be constructed on behalf of the listeners by the preacher. The old-school sermonic song of Black Preaching must have contemporary relevance.

As Lenora Tubbs Tisdale states, “Two things which had not previously been placed side-by-side—namely a particular biblical text (or texts) and a particular congregational context—are allowed to live together and talk together and dance with one another in the imagination of the preacher, until something new occurs through their encounter.”[ii] It is my contention that this imaginative dance within the preacher’s mind is not only an appropriate hermeneutical approach to constructing congregational and cultural meaning of an old text, but it is what takes place when the preaching is played in the ballroom of Black sanctuaries in particular.

I have attended many church services to which I was invited as guest minister for a special occasion worship service or as the week-long revivalist. To my consternation I have often been the youngest person in attendance. Even as a thirty-plus year old preacher who was reared in rural Virginia, I still attend services where I am the only person less than forty years old and in some cases where I am looked upon as a child by many of the more seasoned congregants. Members in these churches seem to view younger preachers as being influenced by popular televangelistic preaching, and they assume that there is some inherent generational detachment, particularly when it comes to church matters. “What can this young fella say to us?”In response, I would simply stand to my feet and remind the church that “God is good,”and in response they would say, “All the time,”followed by my resounding affirmation, that “All the time,”drawing their collective response, “God is good!”I would make it clear that the same God that “woke them up early this morning, clothed in their right mind, with blood still running warm through their veins”is the same God that “started me on my way.” Upon displaying my knowledge and genuine appreciation of the “holy sayings”within the Black Church I felt a mutual kindred and welcoming spirit as I heard more clearly what was not being said: “Preach preacher!”We were now able to sermonically dance with one another to a familiar song while still leaving room for a re-mix or fresh word to come forth. In order for me to bring forth a convicting and culturally relevant word that would address their contemporary needs I had to enter through the door of familiarity.

Samuel DeWitt Proctor wrote, “Preaching at its best will begin where the people are, and educate them in the possibilities of refined and improved human relations.”[iii] Preaching in a sense does not commence from the pulpit, but it rather starts in the pews. Henry H. Mitchell brought this reality to my remembrance when he stated:   The mainstream middle class churches of today are suffering   decline, in part because their clergy have been taught to scoff at and war against the “less intellectual”belief system of the average member…. If such clergy had only instructed the people from the people’s own frame of reference, then the people might have gladly defended the pastor’s right to follow his or her prophetic conscience.[iv]  

Through experiences such as this I learned that through robust theological and rhetorical appropriation to preaching of the holy sayings of the Black Church experience, preachers can harness vernacular rhetoric to enhance communal identification among African American Christians in particular and all believing listeners in general.[v] There is a music in preaching that Black churches love to hear that transcends style. The connection is not primarily made in the climatic and celebratory whoop, tune, squall, or vivid and affecting imagery of hope in the final stages of the sermon. I concur with Frank A. Thomas: “Celebration in the final stage of the sermon functions as the joyful and ecstatic reinforcement of the truth already taught and delivered in the main body of the sermon.”[vi] The good news ought to joyfully lift the preacher and cause a celebratory cry that is oftentimes expressed in stylish utterances; however, preachers should not wait for the last sermonic song to expect the congregation to then stand and dance with the Word of God. The bond and dance between the pulpit and pew must be initiated from the beginning and throughout the preaching with theologically substantive and shared sayings as the rhythm and blues of Black Preaching.        

There is some type of prophetic attractiveness for one who possesses a young face but old soul that is expressed through one’s demeanor and delivery. The elocution that I am referring to is the kind that is without wordiness or the purpose of proving one’s own knowledge or ability to keep it real, but which is genuine and a part of one’s lived experience. In order to speak in tongues, the preacher must know the indigenous or native language, or in this case the “folk theology”of the particular community of faith.[vii] Folk theology is theology that a community of people treasures and lives by that is expressed in folklore.

Black Christian folklore is expressive culture that includes tales, music, dance, popular beliefs, proverbs, and oral traditions as transmitters of Black folk theology. Black Preaching is a constituent of Black folklore. I agree with Tisdale: “Preaching as folk art (folklore) exhibits a preference for the simple, plain, conversational speech of the local congregation.”[viii] This is not anti-intellectualism but a vehicle to transmit a communal belief and create a path for new ideas. To violate the folklore is to victimize the folk theology.  The church knows that even an imposter can read and recite the bible as a means of persuasion, but in order to read the people one must appreciate and learn of the folklore. Many non-biblical liturgical sayings are a component of Black folklore, and one must know it in order to more fully communicate with the Black Church.  If the preacher does not know the idiomatic religious language of the people, the preacher will not be known by the people.

Henry H. Mitchell shared with me a time when he attended a lively and fairly traditional worship experience in California. Although he did not expect to witness this southern style of Black worship in this particular township, he authentically shifted his style and diction to accommodate the congregational setting and point of reference. He did not rob or cheat the Gospel, but he made a rhetorical adjustment whereby he shared with me, “Henry whooped that day.”[ix] I attended a revival service in Richmond several years ago at a church that has a prophetically charged and gifted pastor/preacher who is known for inviting high caliber preachers who can both “holla”and help somebody. At this revival, I witnessed a master of Black Sacred Rhetoric. This particular revivalist introduced himself in song and closed the service out in song, and somewhere in between that mini-concert there was a sermon. Once he approached the sacred desk he read from the scripture, prayed a prayer, and preached the Word that was accompanied with an abundance of these extra-biblical holy sayings that I call Black Sacred Rhetoric. The church was edified as both young and old packed the house each night and stood to their feet as a hopeful and convicting word cut them like a two-edged sword. This response was unlike any other response I had witnessed at this particular church that is known for having great revivalists and a prince of preaching as pastor. It was at that moment that I determined how Black Sacred Rhetoric and its exegetical appropriation could cause the people of God to dance with joy, leave informed, and be convinced that a change needed to be made in their lives. This preacher was in line with both Cicero’s and Augustine’s view on the role of eloquence and rhetoric.[x] This preacher touched all bases as he instructed, persuaded, and delighted the listening congregation.

This phenomenon now had credible practitioners and a community of people outside of the rural setting that longed to be reminded, “Everything that looks good to you, ain’t necessarily good for you,”and, “If you take one step, God will take two.”This old-school Black preaching was refreshing to a contemporary “what’s hot on the pop chart”society.   I must admit however that the employment of this religious vernacular has been a thorn in my flesh. Although I see its significance as a means of communal association as well as a passing on of a particular folk theology, it pains me to see the mishandling and abuse of such sacred sayings.

Some preachers use these “holy sayings”or what others call “holy clichés”as artificial signals. These holy sayings are unfortunately misappropriated in order to gain an emotional response from the people of God which in return arouses the preacher’s narcissistic appetite and feeds his or her plea for public affirmation. This in my view is the pseudo-prophetic prostitution of our sacred vernacular rhetoric, a rhetoric which in fact warrants and deserves to be reverently handled. 

I have also witnessed what I considered to be ill-prepared sermons whereby the preacher reaches into his or her bag of “grandma theology,”or what Henry H. Mitchell referred to me in the aforementioned interview as “Aunt Jane’s theology,”and tries his or her best to salvage the sermon by declaring that “He may not come when you want Him to, but He’s always right on time! Can I get a witness? That He will pick you up, tuuurrrn you around and place your feet on much higher ground. Can I get a witness that He’s an on time God? Ain’t He alright?  He’s alright I tell you. Ain’t He alright, ain’t He alright!”

My response is quite simply, “Yes, God is alright, and God will indeed totally transform our lives,”but where’s the theological and rhetorical connectivity to the sermon’s primary proposition? The lack of context to these holy sayings leads to the bastardization of this rich ancestral language."

-- Wyatt Tee Walker (August 16, 1928 – January 23, 2018) was an African-American pastor, national civil rights leader, theologian, and cultural historian. He was a chief of staff for Martin Luther King, Jr., and in 1958 became an early board member of the Southern Christian Leadership Conference (SCLC). He helped found a Congress for Racial Equality (CORE) chapter in 1958. As executive director of the SCLC from 1960 to 1964, Walker helped to bring the group to national prominence.

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