Fire in My Bones: Transcendence and the Holy Spirit in African American Gospel

5. Beginnings: "Happy to Be in the House of Worship"

Chapter 5 Beginnings "Happy to Be in the House of Worship" The Long Branch Disciple Church buzzes with anticipation as the saints prepare for the second part of the Branchettes' twentieth singing anniversary. The night before, more than two hundred had jammed the pews in this small country church to pay tribute to the honorees. The sanctuary had rung with voices of praise, despite predictions that the evening promised the worst blizzard in years. Local radio announcers had anxiously reported more than a foot of snow blanketing nearby North Carolina counties and had solemnly cautioned travelers to stay off the roads. The stilled darkness of the nearby town of Meadow gave immediacy to these warnings, bearing witness to downed power lines and scolding winds. Yetthe saints had still come, confident that the Lord would protect those who went about His business. And protect them He did, for the storm had passed the church by, only dusting its grounds with a gentle whiteness. Now the saints were back, and the sun shone gloriously in the Sunday afternoon sky. Car after car pulls onto the hardened sand of the church's ample lot, each filled with saints dressed in their Sunday finest. As newcomers jockey for positions nearest the white block church, those who have already parked are busily unloading. Open trunks reveal a bounty of bulky amplifiers, guitar and bass cases, covered cakes and cooking pans, and carefully folded choir robes shimmering through protective plastic. Small groups of saints bustle around the trunks and open car doors, preparing for the service and catching up on the news. Near the church, a young mother struggles to adjust the tie on her nattily dressed toddler while instructing her daughters to smooth out their bright crimson gowns. Across the lot an elderly deacon shouts greetings to a friend he hasn't seen since the last anniversary. A muffled cascade of laughter sounds from a small band of teenagers, as one jokingly reenacts the shout step danced by their choir director in the morning service. A few cars down, middle-aged members of a male chorus huddle to review their set, at one point breaking into harmony as they practice a passage that gave them trouble at last week's rehearsal. As I pull boxes of recording tape from my own car, an elegantly dressed church "mother" graciously welcomes me back to the anniversary. A spirit of friendly informality reigns across the lot. 2. On the second weekend of every March, the Branchettes celebrate their singing anniversary at the Long Branch Disciple Church, where they first met more than three decades ago. The church lies in rural Johnston County, at the western edge of North Carolina's coastal plain, between the towns of Meadow and Newton Grove. (Photo by Roland L. Freeman) Much the same holds true inside the church. The golden-carpeted sanctuary hums with conversation and laughter, as programgoers gaily greet old friends and meet new ones. Family groups of three and four slowly make their way down the center aisle, their progress interrupted time and again by hugs and handshakes. A small circle of men position themselves in the vestibule, sending wives and children ahead while they pause to swap gossip and trade quips about the previous night's basketball game. At regular intervals, they move aside to allow musicians lugging heavy amplifiers to pass. Sunlight streaming in through stained glass panes bathes the sanctuary in a glow of warm amber. At the church-front, hanging on the wall over the choir loft, a computer-printed banner welcomes the saints with the words, «The Branchettes 20th Singing Anniversary:' In the cross-aisle between the pulpit and pews, two young men in powder-blue jackets and charcoal pants search for a free outlet for their amps, stepping past the high bouquets flanking the rostrum and around the silver drum kit in the aisle to its left. Another similarly dressed fellow-clearly a member of the same quartetstarts testing the four microphones resting on chrome stands below the pulpit.«Check, check, check one, check one, check," he intones monotonously, contributing a droning bass line to the church's ambient hum. Meanwhile, a young man sitting in the front left pew fingers gentle runs on the neck of his sparkling black guitar. And another amplifier clicks on, adding one more layer to the sizzling undertone of electronic hiss. Across from the drum kit...