So he went on off and got a job plowin’. Dat’s whut he was called to do in de first place.
Armetta said, “A many a one been called to de plough and they run off and got up in de pulpit. Ah wish dese mules knowed how to take a pair of plow-lines and go to de church and ketch some of ’em like they go to de lot with a bridle and ketch mules.”
SOURCE: Zora Neale Hurston, Mules and Men, 20–22.
Hurston’s father was a preacher, and she chronicles his life and career in her first novel, Jonah’s Gourd Vine. John Pearson, the fictional stand-in for John Hurston, rises in the church hierarchy only to be thwarted by his adulterous liaisons. Ironically, his charisma works both for him and against him. Hurston writes about storytelling sessions on her family’s front porch, with “very funny stories [told] at the expense of preachers and congregations.” Tales such as the one above mock the delusional aspirations of those who (quite logically) hope to escape hard labor even as they engage in a critique of opportunistic clergymen.
“How the Brother Was Called to Preach,” from Zora Neale Hurston, Mules and Men. Copyright 1935 by Zora Neale Hurston; renewed © 1963 by John C. Hurston and Joel Hurston. Reprinted by permission of HarperCollins Publishers.
Click here to advance to the next section of the text.
1 rabbit-foot: Hurston glosses this sentence as meaning, “Ignore these preachers.”
2 they’ll all lie: For Hurston, the term lying conflates misrepresentation and swindling with storytelling and higher truths.
3 “There’s many a one been called just lak dat”: These tales are presented as a verbal sparring match. The second “lie” is told to outshine the first by painting an even more ridiculous portrait of a man called to preach. It is likely that Hurston constructed this scene, perhaps from reminiscences of similar interactions, because the stories appear separately in her original manuscript, later published as Every Tongue Got to Confess.
4 called by a mule: Ellis decides to top the story told by the woman named Gold. He illustrates how storytelling sessions turn into competitions.
THE FARMER AND THE G.P.C.
One time dere was a man what was a farmer. One year he had a real good crop. But dis man was kinda lazy, and when it come time to gather de crop he tole ole lady dat he could not he’p gather de crop cause he felt de Lord was callin’ him to go preach. He tole her to look up in de sky, and he pointed out de letters G P C, which he say meant, “Go Preach Christ” and he had to go.
But de old lady she was too much fer him. “Dose letters don’ mean, ‘Go Preach Christ,’ ” she said. “Dey mean, ‘Go Pick Cotton.’ ”
SOURCE: Langston Hughes and Arna Bontemps, Book of Negro Folklore, 139–40.
JUMP ON MAMA’S LAP
Someone came to the door, and the little boy went to the door. His father asked him who was at the door, and he told him the Methodist Minister. So the father said, “Go hide all the liquor.”
Then again, there was a knock on the door, and he asked him who was there. And he told him it was the Episcopalian Minister; so the father told him to go hide the food.
The next one came up was a Baptist, and he told him, say “Go jump in Mama’s lap.”
SOURCE: Daryl C. Dance, Shuckin’ and Jivin’: Folklore from Contemporary Black Americans, 59.
DEACON JONES’ BOYS AND THE GREEDY PREACHER
Two of de faithfules’ chu’ch membuhs Ah evuh seed, what git dat thing lack de Word say git hit, was Deacon Henry Jones an’ his wife Sarah what b’long to de li’l’ ole Baptis’ chu’ch down to Wild Horse Slew. An’ you talkin’ ’bout a woman what could cook—dat was Sarah. She hab de reputation for bein’ de bes’ chicken fryer in de whole Bottoms; so de pastuh of de li’l’ ole church what she b’long allus hab de vis’tin’ preachuhs to eat Sunday dinnuh an’ suppuh wid Deacon Jones, so Sarah kin fix ’em some of dem fine chicken dinnuhs de whole Bottom’s talkin’ ’bout.
Deacon Jones hab two li’l sebum-yeah-old boys what was twinses dat sho’ was glad when de preachuhs comed to dey house for Sunday dinnuh, ’caze dey knows dey gonna git some good ole juicy drum sticks for dinnuh dat day. Sarah allus ’low dese li’l’ ole boys to set at de table wid dey mammy an’ pappy an’ de preachuh, ’caze dey ack nice an’ don’ cut up. Dey’s putty good li’l’ ole boys an’ don’ raise no rukus lack lots of younguns in de Bottoms when preachuhs comed to dey house to eat.
But Ah calls to min’ one Sunday mawnin’ when a big black preachuh comed from way somewhars to de chu’ch to preach, an’ de pastuh sen’s him to eat wid Deacon Jones an’ Sarah, lack he allus been doin’. So when Sarah done put de victuals on de table, and de deacon done say de blessin’s, dis big black preachuh rech ovah an’ tuck de chicken plattuh an’ pou’ed evuh las’ piece of de chicken in his plate. De li’l’ twinses, Bubbuh an’ Bobby, was late gittin’ to de table, ’caze dey hab to wash dey han’s an’ faces in de wash pan attuh de grown folks git thoo; so when dey come to de table an’ set down an’ looked at de chicken plattuh an’ seed dat hit was empty, dey says, “What’s de chicken, mammy?” But de preachuh don’ gib Sarah time to ansuh. He stop chawnkin’ on a good ole juicy drumstick, eye de li’l’ boys rail mean lack, pints his finguh at de gravy bowl, an’ say, “Eat gravy; gravy’s good.”
Dat ver’ same Sunday attuh de chu’ch servuses dat night, de preachuh comed back to Deacon Jones’ house for ’nothuh chicken dinnuh ’fo’ he saddle his horse an’ go way somewhat. Sarah hab a long red oil cloth table cloth on de table what hang all de way down to de flo’ so far till you can’t see unnerneaf hit to save yo’ life; so while Sarah was cookin’ a hoe-cake in de skillet in de kitchen an’ Deacon Jones an’ de preachuh was washin’ dey han’s an’ faces on de back gall’ry, Bubbuh an’ Bobby tuck de plattuh full of chicken Sarah hab on de table for suppah an’ ca’ied hit under de table wid ’em an’ et hit all up.
When de hoe-cake got done, Sarah tuck hit an’ put hit on de table an’ called Henry an’ de preachuh to come to suppuh; so in dey comes ’dout lookin’ on de table, an’ say de blessin’s. When dey gits thoo wid de blessin’s, de preachuh looks down in de middle of de table what de chicken be at dinnuh time, but he don’ see no chicken or plattuh neither, so he say, “Sister Sarah, what’s de chicken?”
When he say dis, Bubuh an’ Bobby sticks dey haids out from undah de table an’ say, “Eat gravy, Elduh; gravy’s good.”
SOURCE: J. Mason Brewer, The Word on the Brazos, 108–9.
Recorded by the African American folklorist J. Mason Brewer in Brazos County, Texas, where the plantation culture of the old South flourished, this story can be read not only as a tale about a gluttonous preacher but also as a parable about outwitting those who amass goods, leaving little for others to enjoy. The two youngsters manage to turn the tables on the giant of a preacher, who wants everything for himself, and together they model the role of the trickster.
“Jump on Mama’s Lap,” Daryl Cumber Dance, ed., Shuckin’ and Jivin’: Folklore from Contemporary Black Americans, 1978. Reprinted with permission of Indiana University Press. “Deacon Jones’ Boys and the Greedy Preacher,” from J. Mason Brewer, The Word on the Brazos: Negro Preacher Tales from the Brazos Bottoms of Texas. Copyright © 1953, renewed 1981. By permission of the University of Texas Press.
POPPA STOLE THE DEACON’S BULL
The reverend had a whole lot of kids, but the reverend didn’t have any money, and so he could buy nothing to eat. Deacon had a bull, so the reverend went and stole the deacon’s bull. He went and had people over to dinner; he even invited Deacon over. “Come over to my house on Sunday, ’cause right after church we’re gonna have all kinds of beef.” So Deacon said he’d come.
So he came over and sat down. You know how they do in the country, kids eat first and then the grown-ups. So the deacon sat down, and he said, “This is sure good food. Um, um, um. You know one thing, Rev?” He said, “What’s that, Brother Deacon?” He said, “You know, somebody stole my bull.” He said, “Um, ain’t that
something, people just going around taking other people’s stuff.” And at the same time he’s the one that stole the bull.
So the kids were outside playing. The deacon went outside for a while to get some air after eating so much. And he stopped for a while to watch the kids playing. It sounded to him like the kids had made up a new game. They had each other by the hand, going around in a circle singing:
Oh, Poppa stole the deacon’s bull,
And all us children got a belly full.
So the deacon walked over to them and said, “You know, if you sing that song again, I’ll give each of you a nickel.”
Oh, Poppa stole the deacon’s bull,
And all us children got a belly full.
So he said, “How would you all like to make some more money, lots more?” They all said, “Yeah!” He said, “If all of you come to church next Sunday, I’ll give you fifty cents apiece to sing that same song right there, just like the choir, because that song carries an important message.”
So they were really excited now. They ran and told their mother that they were going to sing in church, and she was so glad to hear that the children were going to get a chance to sing that Sunday. Of course, she didn’t know what they were going to sing about!
So the deacon went around to everybody’s house and told them that Reverend Jones’s kids were going to be in church that Sunday, singing. He told them of their beautiful voices and the great message of their songs. So everybody wanted to come down to hear it. They said, “The Lord sent these children to bring us this message.” Pretty soon Deacon had gone all around the community spreading the word, and everyone got very excited.
So, finally, Sunday came. The children got all dressed up and cleaned up and went down to church. And they were clean and sparkly looking! Well, by the time they got there, the church was so packed that many people had to sit in the back of the church. So the reverend, their father, was so proud he told them, “Now, when you go up there, I want you to sing loud enough that everyone can hear what you’re singing, because there are a lot of people in the back.” So they said, “Yes, sir, Daddy, we’ll sing very loud.”
So you know how the preacher does before he brings on the gospel singers. He went to preaching, telling the congregation this and that, building up the people to a great excitement. But they mostly came to hear the song. Finally, the deacon stood up and said, “Ladies and gentlemen, you never know where the word is going to come from. Kids can carry a divine message if you learn how to listen to them.” He said, “I want you to listen closely to this message that Reverend Jones’s children are going to bring to you. Now, sing that song, children.” They got up there and started singing away:
Oh, Poppa stole the deacon’s bull,
And all us children got a belly full.
Now, there was so much noise set up when they started in, and the kids had such small voices, that their father couldn’t hear them. So he said, “Sing up louder, now. Come on, you must sing louder so that I can really hear you.” By that time the people down front are looking at him like he’s crazy. So he wondered why they were looking at him. So they started singing again:
Oh, Poppa stole the deacon’s bull,
And all us children got a belly full.
Now the reverend heard what they were singing. He just looked at them in the eyes, and started in, “Well, children—” he began,
When you told them that, you told your last,
Now when I get home I’m gonna kick your ass.
SOURCE: Roger D. Abrahams, Deep Down in the Jungle, 183–85.
Theft and the detection of a thief are the thematic drivers of this tale, with a deacon who is determined to have the truth come out in the most public way possible. “Child’s song incriminates thief” is the folkloric designation for the story’s chief trope, and in this case the children innocently boast about their feast, without being in the least aware of the consequences of the song. Many lines in this tale (“If you sing this song again, I’ll give you a nickel”) resonate with moments in the European story, “The Juniper Tree,” in which a boy turns into a bird and is rewarded on multiple occasions for singing a song in which his parents’ misdeeds are proclaimed.
THE HAUNTED CHURCH AND THE SERMON ON TITHING
Oncet down on de ole Washin’ton fawm dere was a Mefdis’ preachuh by de name of Revun Logan what stay at de same charge for thirty yeah or mo’. He hol’ de membership togedduh an’ buil’ de fuss chu’ch house in Eloise. Evuhbody in de Bottoms hab a good feelin’ for Revun Logan, so when de new bishop dey ’lected hol’ de annul conference down to Chilton one yeah, he change Revun Logan from de Wes’ Texas Conference an’ move ’im to de Texas Conference. Dis heah hurt Revun Logan’s feelin’s pow’ful bad, ’caze he bred an’ bawn in de Bottoms, an’ he ain’t wanna trace his steps outen de Bottoms way dis late in life. He wropped up in de membuhship an’ de settlement, but de new bishop lack de’ pos’l’ Paul dat de Word tell ’bout. He say don’ none of dese things move ’im an’ keep ’im from ’bidin’ by de law what done been writ in de displin’.
Revun Logan all bowed down in sorrow an’ his haa’t moughty heaby wid de partin’ from his chu’ch starin’ ’im in de face; so de nex’ mawnin’ attuh he comed back from de conference de ole man what sweep up de ch’ch go by de li’l’ pawsonage to pass de time of day wid ’im an’ fin’ ’im dead on the kitchen flo’. So dey buries ’im in de graveyard on de chu’ch groun’s what he done hab de membuhship buy.
De nex’ Sunday de preachuh what de bishop done sen’ to teck Revun Logan’s place come to preach his fuss sermon. De new preachuhs in dem days comin’ up allus preach dey fuss sermon in de night time, so dis new preachuh gits up in de pulpit dat fuss night an’ pray; den he raise his voice to lead a song; nex’ he light out to preachin’, but no sooner’n he staa’t, de oil lamps all goes out an’ ghostes staa’ts to comin’ into de chu’ch house thoo de windows and de doors. Sump’n lack a gust of win’ come thoo de whole chu’ch house. De pastuh, de membuhship, an’ de chilluns all lights out from dere for de dirt road. De new preachuh saddle his hoss rail quick an’ rides clear on outen de Bottoms, an’ dey don’ nevuh heah tell of ’im from dat day to dis one.
De bishop sen’s ’bout fo’ mo’ preachuhs to pastuh de charge attuh dis, but lack as befo’ de same thing happens an’ dey saddles dey hosses an’ lights outen de Bottoms, an’ don’ nevuh come back no mo’. De membuhship say dat dem ghostes was Revun Logan an’ de ole pilluhs of de chu’ch what buried in de ch’ch graveyard comin’ back, ’caze dey ain’t pleased wid de fashion de bishop done treat Revun Logan.
Fin’ly, de bishop sen’s a rail young preachuh what done finish up in a Mefdis’ Preachuh school way somewhat. Dis his fuss charge an’ he brung his wife wid ’im. De membuhship jes’ know dis heah young preachuh gonna be scairt to deaf Sunday night when he staa’t to preachin’ an’ de ghostes staa’t to comin’ in de windows, so dey meck hit up dat dey ain’t narry one of ’em goin’ in de chu’ch dat night; ’stid dey gonna all congugate on t’othuh side de dirt road ’cross from de ch’ch house an’ crack dey sides laffin’ when de young preachuh an’ his wife come runnin’ outen de chu’ch house when de lamps goes out an’ de ghostes staa’ts to comin’ in.
Dey lines up cross de road from de chu’ch house long ’fo’ de young preachuh an’ his wife goes into de chu’ch house dat night an’ lights de lamps. But fin’ly de preachuh an’ his wife shows up an’ lights all de lamps in de pulpit an’ ’roun’ de walls. Den de preachuh tuck his Bible an’ his hymn book out, turnt to a page in de hymn book an’ raised a hymn. Den he put de hymn book down, open up his Bible, an’ read a passage of scripture. When he done did dis, he offuh up a short prayer, den ’nounce his tex’. But de minnit he ’nounce his tex’ de lamps goes out an’ dee ghostes staa’ts comin’ in thoo de windows lack ez befo’. But de preachuh an’ his wife don’ budge. He keep rat on wid his sermon lack nothin’ ain’t done happen an’ de sperrits an’ ghostes all teck
seats in de pews till he finish his sermon. He preach a sermon ’bout tithin’—you gib one tent’ of you’ wages to de chu’ch, he say. So when he git thoo wid de sermon, he say to his wife, “Sistuh White, git de collection plate an’ pass hit ’round so’s de Brothuhs an’ Sistuhs kin th’ow in de collection.” An’ when he say dis, de ghostes staa’t flyin’ outen de windows faster’n dey comed in, an’ de lamps come to be lighted again.
When de membuhship see dis dey as staa’t runnin’ cross de road to de chu’ch house whar de young preachuh an’ his wife was gittin’ dey things togethuh to leave de chu’ch house. Dey rushes up to de new preachuh, shakes his han’ an tells ’im de bishop sho’ done sen’ de rat preachuh to dis charge. Dey tells ’im he done broke de spell of de ghostes, an’ dis must have been de truf, ’caze de ghostes ain’t nevuh showed up no mo’, from dat day to dis one.
SOURCE: J. Mason Brewer, The Word on the Brazos, 64–65.
Combining the preacher tale with stories about ghosts, this account of a haunted church gives us a preacher who is also a trickster. In a clever twist, the narrator claims that his tale is “de truf,” on the grounds that ghosts have ceased to haunt the church.
“The Haunted Church and the Sermon on Tithing,” from J. Mason Brewer, The Word on the Brazos: Negro Preacher Tales from the Brazos Bottoms of Texas. Copyright © 1953, renewed 1981. By permission of the University of Texas Press.
OLD BROTHER TRIES TO ENTER HEAVEN
Ole Brother have had he time in dis world. He have never done nothin’ to ease de mind er a human, an’ when he time come, he leff dis world wid a mighty cry an’ struggle for de heavenly heights, an’ wid he sly ways he manage to git to de top er de long hill. He hung ’round de gates er heaven for days, an’ ole Peter recognize him an’ run him off, but he kep’ on comin’ back.
The Annotated African American Folktales Page 58
