True Places: A Lowcountry Preacher, His Church, and His People

2. "Lord, I Wish I Had a Prayin' Church Tonight!"

2 “Lord, I Wish I Had a Prayin’ Church Tonight!” After a circuitous drive I arrived at Hickory Grove Chapel for my 0rst revival meeting. Still a bit shak rom my experience at the burned church, I walked in and sat down on the side near the altar. Most of the lights were of and I was the only one there. I sat quietly and wondered if someone would enter and ask, “What are YOU doing here?” `en a thin woman wearing glasses marched in. She sat down right by me, and I stammered, “My name is Stanley Lanzano. I know it is odd to see a white person in your church, but Reverend Knowlin is my riend, and he invited me to come, but if you have any objections. . . .” She interrupted: “Oh, we know who YOU are!” and gave me a big smile. Her name was Sister Edith Greene. Other people were 0ling in. `ere was lots of chitchat and laughing until suddenly one woman stood up and started talking about her troubles. Her son had lost his 0nger at his coxon-factory job; she was out of work; her husband just begun treatment for cancer. Everyone was quiet and still until she ended with: “`ank you, Jesus, for all “my blessings!”—and sat down.`en they cried out, “Praise the Lord, Sister!” or “Amen!” Some began singing “I Don’t Know Nothin’ Out `ere `at’s Going to Keep Me rom Jesus.” Right ater that a rush of people came in. `en someone else stood up to testid, and it started all over again. `is cycle of plaintive revelations , prayers, and singing continued for about an hour with emotions building steadily until the testimonies ended. `en Reverend Knowlin walked to the pulpit, and the service really began. Reverend Knowlin had been speaking for maybe thiry minutes when suddenly the room seemed to explode, and I felt swept away by a religious fervor and emotional intensiy I had never imagined. He preached and cajoled. He pounded the pulpit. He warned, and he fumed. And the people sang. How they sang! `ere were tears and shouts and shaking of tambourines . Some folks murmured sad gospel songs or bowed their heads in prayer while others began dancing in ront of the pulpit Charles Knowlin and Mary McFadden, revival meeting at the Bethlehem Baptist Church, Lake Ciy, 1996 (detail) ▲ 42 or in mid aisle. All this activiy was accompanied by drums, electric piano, and organ ampli0ed by speakers that boomed rom the four corners of the chapel. I moved in and out of it all, sometimes tearful, sometimes laughing, and sometimes shooting photographs . It felt like a dance to which I did not know the steps. But everyone else did, and they moved as one rom deepest sorrow to uxer joy, rom ecstatic dancing to quiet praying. `en, late in the night, when the reverend 0nished preaching, he invited those who were ready to come forward to have him lay on his hands. `ey streamed up to the altar, where Reverend Knowlin spoke sotly and gently, anointing them with olive oil. A few folks quietly sang spirituals. Some time ater midnight it was time to go. I walked out into the cool November night feeling exhilarated. I had experienced something powerful and real that had touched me deeply. I recalled that at one point there was silence for about 0teen seconds, which prompted the reverend to cry out “lord I wish I had a prayin’ church tonight!” `at got everyone back on their feet and praying with all they had in them. I had a long drive back as did most of the others. Nearly all Reverend Knowlin’s weeknight revivals are held at churches in the middle of nowhere. But people 0nd them. `ey come rom nearby towns or travel far to get there. Some return the next night and the following night too.`ey come in their 0nest clothes as soon as they have let work and fed their families. Many come rom the Lighthouse in Georgetown . Reverend Knowlin encourages them: “I didn’t see enough of y’all rom Lighthouse last week!” Some come on crutches or in wheelchairs; yet the words you keep hearing are “`ank you Jesus! `ank You!”`ey come in the rain and sleet, and the mood is serious: “Let’s get down to business, let’s get preached to.” Most are women...