It's Good to Be Black

15. We Attend a Baptizing

15. we attend a: baptizing Baptizings were always held at Blakesley's old mill pond on North Walnut Street. A small grove of trees gave the place the air of a private park and it was always used by young lovers who wanted a bit of solitude and beauty as a backdrop for romance. The west and north sides of the pond were fenced to give protection to passers-by on the street and to the small children who played in Ada McKnight's yard. The south bank sloped sharply down to the water. This Sunday afternoon the south bank was crowded with Baptists, Methodists , Old Man Crayton, the lone Negro convert to Catholi~ cism, the sinners, Jim Blake, who proudly called himself an infidel, and a few young rowdies who came to see how the wet robes hugged the women converts when they came up out of the water. This was Mt. Olive's big day and Reverend Stuart was making the most of it. He lifted his right hand for silence and all conversation ceased. Beyond the west fence a few white people watched from a respectful distance. I'm going down to the big baptizin', I'm going down to the big baptizin' Some of these days, Hallelujah, I'm going down to the big baptizin' I'm going down to the big baptizin' Some of these days. 161 it's good to be blaele I'm gonna shake hands with my Jesus, I'm gonna sh<:~ke hands with my Jesus, Some of these days, Hallelujah, I'm gonna shake hands with my Jesus, I'm gonna shake hands with my Jesus, Some of these days. I'm gonna tell Him how you treat me, Oh yes, I'm gonna tell Him how you treat me Some of these days, Hallelujah-- "Yes!" Aunt Mandy Stigall, overcome with emotion, shouted above the singing. "You know, sweet Jesus!" 'The eyes of the white people left the large group of ing Negroes and found interest in the colorful leaves of the maple trees. I'm gonna tell Him how you treat me, I'm gonna tell Him how you treat me Some of these days. By this time Elder Ross was assisting Reverend Stuart as he waded into the water. Deacon Tinsley had walked before them sounding the depth of the water with a long staff-like pole. When Moses stretched forth his hand and led the children of Israel across Jordan he could not have done it with more solemnity than these three who were now executing the Lord's business. Deacon Tinsley stopped, planted his staff in the soft mud of the pond. Elder Ross assisted Reverend Stuart as he turned slowly about to face the congregation. I'm going down to the big baptizing, Oh yes, I'm going down to the big baptizing Some of these days, Hallelujah. we uttetUJ u bupti%ing Elder Ross held the hem of Reverend Stuart's robe in the water until the weight of the dampness caused the cloth to sink. I'm going down to the big baptizingSome of these days. "Dear Heavenly Father, it is once more and again, we your humble children have assembled together in accordance with TI1y divine order to receive a few more of Thy sheep into the fold." Reverend Stuart's prayer sped on its way to the battlements of glory buoyed by a chorus of "Yes, Lord" and "Amen, Jesus." "Lord, we believe You knowed what You was talking about when You said to baptize the believers. We know You meant what You said when You sent Your disciples forth to baptize in Your name. Lord, we know if You hadda meant for us to take a pitcher of water and sprinkle it over the converts' heads, You woulda told us so. If that was all You was gonna do You wouldna wasted Your precious time walking all the way out to the River Jordan to do it." The Methodists in the crowd were getting restless. It was unfair to attack an opponent who could not defend himself. We knew however that Reverend Davis' sermon the next Sunday would include the scripture, "I will sprinkle your head wiili clear water-" Reverend Stuart, giving, as he was wont to say, no space for the devil, marched on boldly to the throne of grace. "Hover over this place iliis afternoon, Gracious God. May everything said and done here be done ·to the honor and glory of Thy name. These blessings we ask in the name of Thy dear son, Christ Jesus. Amen." it's good to be black The converts stood surrounded and partially obscured by the deaconesses in their billowing white dresses. At the end of the prayer they were led nearer to the water. The preacher reached forth his arms and Deacon Tinsley accompanied the first convert into the water. Someone on the bank raised a song: Here's another one corning to be baptized, To be baptized, be baptized; Here's another one corning to be baptized To view the dyin' lamb. The convert was now safely in the hands of Elder Ross and Reverend Stuart. They whispered something to him. He nodded his head with enthusiasm. Raising his right hand above the bowed head, Reverend Stuart intoned: "According to the confession of your faith and in fulfillment to the commandment of Jesus Christ, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Ghost. Amen." The convert was completely immersed. A split second later he was raised from the watery grave to walk in the newness of life. A mother on the bank screamed and the convert leaped in the water, shouting and praising God. He needed no assistance but waded boldly ashore to be clasped in his mother's arms. Unmindful of his wet clothes, she hugged and kissed him. Finally the young man was led to a home nearby where he could change into dry clothing. Several other candidates followed in rapid succession. It was getting to be rather routine when Sister Smith started leading Ella Jenkins down to the water. We first heard the feeble but insistent protests above the singing. Here's another one corning to be baptized, Be baptized, be baptized- ft'e attend a baptizing "Please don' put me in that water, please don' put me in that water-" The high-pitched childish voice ran like a discord through the swinging chorus. The deaconess half pulled, half coaxed the unwilling candidate along. Deacon Tinsley had sized up the situation. He took the girl from the deaconess and whispered a few words to her. Ella's voice dropped to a whimper and she was led into the water. Her lips were still moving, not in prayer to God but in entreaty to the people who were compelling her to go through the ceremony. The minister whispered to Elder Ross who kept up the singing as Reverend Stuart said the words over the candidate . Now the trembling figure was buried beneath the water. As the slender body rose above the surface of the water, a piercing scream rent the air. It was not the joyous sound of a rejoicing believer. It was a cry of terror. Eluding the slippery tired hands of Reverend Stuart and Elder Ross, Ella Jenkins scrambled out of the water. Two deaconesses waited on the bank with a warm blanket to put around the screaming girL Ella paused for a moment, and as the women advanced she recognized them as the ones who had led her into the water against her will. Side-stepping their waiting arms, she cut a path through the crowd and raced for home. The Baptists looked at the fleeing girl and sadly shook their heads. "Poor child, the devil must own her lock, stock, and barrel," Old Lady Criddon shook her head and shifted her snuff brush to the other side of her mouth. "Poor little thing. She never was real bright," Charity Boyd murmured. Some of the other Methodists doubled over with laughter. it's goofl to be blaeh Dad was gripping my hand tight. He was neither cha~ grined nor amused. He was mad. "They shouldn'ta done it," he muttered. "Jesus was kind to little children. He didn't go around scaring 'em to death." 166 ...