During our years of singing acapella quartet music, it was customary for our family to visit churches in the surrounding area. There was a Pentecostal church in Ladysmith we visited a few times when they were hosting a visiting revival pastor Pa wanted to hear preach.

Most of the churches we visited had very traditional morning or evening service rituals. There would be a couple congregational songs from the hymnal, a few prayers, a sermon from the pastor, maybe a special music number that our quartet would provide, and a closing prayer. Then everyone visited in the foyer and went home. It was all very orderly, quiet and predictable.

The Pentecostal tradition was something that I had not experienced before. When our large family arrived at the church door where the elders and their wives were posted at the entry to great everyone, it felt like a joyous celebration. The ladies gave me a hug and enveloped me in their arms and bosoms and drew me into the folds of their bodies that reeked of strong perfume. I stood as stiff as a board and tried not to breathe until it was over for fear of suffocating in the embrace.

The local pastor’s wife played the piano. The church was sweltering hot, and every wooden bench filled with people. Sweat was pouring down her face as her fingers raced across the keyboard playing the melody with the right hand and stride bass notes and chords with her left hand. They would sing the same song over and over with emotion swelling at every repetition often with tears streaming down their faces.

The congregational music was rhythmic and loud. Everyone stood up and clapped their hands and danced during the music. My favorite song was “Inside the Gate” They would repeat the chorus over and over and over and modulate up a step for the next repetition getting louder and more emotional until everyone was in an orgasmic frenzy.

I didn’t know it at the time, but the tune was written by J.D. Sumner (1924-1998) who was prolific gospel singer/songwriter and was a member of the Blackwood Brothers Quartet and the Stamps Quartet.

Inside the gate (just inside the gate), inside the gate (just inside the gate)
Of home (just inside the gate), sweet home (just inside the gate)
No more to cry (just inside the gate), no more to die (just inside the gate)
A crown of life (just inside the gate), you’ve won (just inside the gate)
You’re safe at last (just inside the gate), your sorrows past (just inside the gate)
A mansion here (just inside the gate) forevermore (just inside the gate)
Yes all of this (just inside the gate), I’ll hear Him say (just inside the gate)
When I step inside the gate.

Our family stayed seated as though we were glued to the bench while the others stood and clapped and moved to the music. My family members were all lean and lanky with thin-framed, boney bodies. But this congregation seemed to be blessed with heavenly bounty.

The women wore gawdy jewelry and bright colored clothing with ill-fitting skirts, and voluptuous breasts that swayed and bounced to the rhythm. I watched in awe, mesmerized by a wave of wonderment, as their bodies moved and flowed like bowls full of jello underneath the bright fabrics of red, blue, and orange snug fitting dresses. I prayed I would develop large breasts.

Then suddenly just as the music reached fever pitch and emotion, the pastor would step in and bring it all down to a hushed, quiet and somber mood. The ladies would reach into their purse and draw out a white hanky, dry their tears and mop the sweat off their brows. Some would kneel and weep quietly, others would stand a wave their hankies upward to the heavens.

It was all overwhelming and frightening, and yet at the same time inspirational, rich and euphoric. The parishioners would holler and shout during the pastor’s message,  They would raise their hands in affirmation and proclaim “Amen brother!” “Hallelujah!” “Praise the Lawd!” “Thank you Jesus” “Thank you Jesus” “Thank you Jesus”

When it was all over, we piled into the car to drive home along the dark country roads. Pa said he didn’t like the way the ladies “pranced around” but he believed they were sincere in their faith and worship.

The God they worshipped was one of love and joy where we would spend eternity with Him “Inside the Gate” with no pain or fear or shame. I believed this God would forgive my ungratefulness. As I drifted off to sleep, I knew exactly what I wanted to do when I grew up – marry a Pentecostal preacher so I could play the piano in a church like this, wear colorful clothing, and have large bountiful breasts.