Amen!

Amen!

Sometimes you have to fight the city. It’s a city of shapes that bang together and rearrange themselves in an all consuming, never ending sculptured stockade that stretches from the Bronx to Brooklyn, and towers over the Hudson River from Queens to New Jersey. In the summer months in down town New York your very soul can melt with the heat. So I’m going to the chapel to pray for my soul. I’m going to offer sentiments to our Lord Jesus that he may show me the way of salvation, for I have sinned because of my neglect. I have sinned because I have tried to live in the world without His word, and now I’m going down to Central Harlem to join my sisters and my brothers in their crusade, in the hope that I can also capture some of His love, so that I can share it with the people in my life.

It is Sunday morning in Harlem and the heat is so intense that fire hydrants have been turned on to cool the kids. I watch them play, running and screaming in and out of the fountain that shoots twenty feet into the air, soaking their bodies in cooled river water. Inside the church, the service has already started, and Sister Moore is in the pulpit looking down over a young woman who is holding a child before the Altar. I am pleased to be back. There have been a few looks of surprise from some of the congregation who have recognized me, but their eyes are smiling welcome, and that is all that matters to me now. Sister Moore asks the woman her name.
“My name is Jackson. Ida Jackson.”
People around me were quietly saying “Bless her, bless the lord…”
“And what’s the name of that little one?”
“His name is Daniel. He been sick Mam, and I want you to pray for him.” And with that the woman began to weep.
“Dear heart, don’t you weep this morning. I know that empty feeling and it will pass. What is ailing your baby?”
“I don’t know. I took him to the doctor, and he don’t know either… He keeps nothing on his little stomach, and he cry all night, every night, and he’s getting real puny. Sister I already plum lost one baby already, and I don’t wanna lose another one. Please pray the Lord to make this baby well.”
“You poor little thing. You ain’t no more than a baby yourself, is you? Sister, is you trying to lead a life that is pleasing to Him?”
“Yes Mam I’m trying every day.”
Throughout this the congregation kept saying Amen! Bless her, bless the Lord, my soul filled up with love. The warmth of their love around me was pleasing, and I was gladdened to be back inside of His love that welcomes all sinners.

Then I remembered my brother and the last time I had seen him. I knew that he would be sitting looking out of his window now on the twentieth floor of his apartment block, crippled by the war. But not only crippled on the outside but crippled inside too. And all day he just stares out into space, cursing sometimes, seems to be still fighting something. And I‘ve come here to pray for him too, because this is where we came as children, this is where we once found the Lord together, here in this very church and now he his saddened and I’m afraid for him, and I want God’s hand to guide him and bring him back to me.
Sister Moore is now holding the baby and the woman is kneeling before the Altar.

“Dear Lord we come here this morning to ask you to look down on this woman and her baby. This baby is sick Lord, and I pray for you to touch his little body and drive those demons out… You said lord that if we just ask for you and trust in your promise Lord, you would answer our prayers. In the name of the Father… and in the name of the Son… And in the name of the blessed Holy Ghost… Amen!”
“Amen.” We called. “Amen! Hallelujah! Blessed be His name.”
“God bless you daughter. You go your way and trust the Lord. That child gonna be all right.”
“Thank you sister. I can’t tell you how much I thank you.”

She came back to her seat close by me holding her small baby and I just looked at her and saw the belief in her face, and I wanted to believe as well. I wanted to believe that my brother Buddy could be saved too. I wanted his soul to soar above his heartache and misery, and to cast aside his torment, and start living again up here in the world. I was thinking how much love there was here today in the church for our Lord. And how I too nearly never came back. But I’m here now and that’s all that really matters. I’m here now and I’m fighting. The piano started to play. Sister Moore held up her arms.
“Children let us pray.”
We got down on our knees, those that could. They began singing,
“Once I was a sinner treading a sinful path;
Never thought about Jesus or the fate of His wrath…”

Buddy said to me one day…
“My sister I was afraid. I was afraid out there in the jungle… I was afraid of the darkness and the mist and the rain and every fucking thing that moved… I ain’t ever been so afraid before. And it seemed no matter how hard I prayed we still died… We still got wasted… And when they killed Joey Mendoza, you remember that sweet kid from the next block who would help anybody less fortunate than himself, I realised then that the Lord no longer cared, or gave a flying fuck about the likes of me… that’s when I stopped believing.”

I said my own prayer then for Buddy. Kneeling there beneath the whirring fans surrounded by my brothers and my sisters. Sister Moore was saying,
“Blessed be the peacemakers. Blessed be the soothsayers. Bless them O lord and give them strength to quell the troubled waters. We leave you today with love in our hearts for you, and trust you will guide us and protect us these coming days. Amen!”
“Amen!” we cried.

I left by the side door because at that moment I wanted to be with my brother. I knew then I would come back and say hello to those that I knew. But now I was nearly running in the heat of mid-day through the shadows and dust that swirled through the near empty streets, and I just wanted to give my love to him, to hold him close, and tell him that we are not alone in the world.
I let myself into his apartment.
“That you Odessa?” he called. He was sat by the open window in his wheelchair; a bottle of bourbon was on a small table by his side.
“I been thinking Odessa.” I put my arms around his neck and kissed his cheek.
“Well, I was watching those children playing by the hydrant and it reminded me of when mama was alive. I remember the sacrifices she made for us. How she worked hard so that we could have a decent upbringing. How every morning in all weathers she would go clean them darn offices down in Times Square. How she struggled to feed us and bring us up right. How she protected us from the wrong doings that we encountered in our daily lives…how she stopped us running with the gangs.”
“Buddy don’t torture yourself anymore please…You’re tired and drunk again and it’s barely noon. I came by to say how much I love you… To ask you to come out with me into the park so we could talk…”
“Shit! I ain’t going nowhere!”
“But you’ve been indoors nearly all summer and today there is a little breeze, and I thought we could go sit by the lake down in Central Park, and maybe it could be like it used to be!”
“Vietnam took that away…”
“But Buddy I’m pleading with you. Please come with me now. I’ll push you for as long as it takes. I’ve been to church today Buddy. I saw hope and love and belief once more, and I want you to start believing in yourself again and to stop all this drinking…it’s doing you no good.”
He sighed and turned to me, he was crying. He had wet himself.
“You see I can’t even go to the fucking rest room on time! I’m a fucking cripple man! And I’m trying. I really am trying… Trying to get back into the world. To get back to what I lost out there!”
“Buddy if mama was here she wouldn’t let you torture yourself like this…” My tears just flowed down my cheeks and we held each other.
Outside the voices of children drifted up from the streets, and I knew then that he was starting to leave me, and there was so little that I could do… I just prayed silently for him so much. Prayed for the Lord to give me the strength to pull him through.
O Lord do not forsake me, in my hour of need!