Moroni Saw Me Chapters
Chapter One
The beach is where Auntie taught me my first lesson of obedience and trust. I was about 4 or 5 years old at the time enjoying a beautiful sunny day outside. It was probably humid and hot, but kids never feel the heat when we are having fun. Aunt Patricia had just given all us kids a snack of Cheez Doodles and allowed us to wander near on the thinly populated beach.
Learning from experience is important to avoid repeating the same dangerous or bad mistakes. My opening lessons for this book consist of three things:
NEVER QUESTION AN AUNT’S WARNING. Not wanting to eat my snack, I tossed one Cheez Doodle on the sand. To my amazement, a seagull swooped down and snatched it up! I was delighted! I had never seen such a thing. In my young mind, I had discovered gold or oil (or heard that a new Star Trek movie had come out—the nerd I am)! Filled with exuberance, I threw several Cheez Doodles into the sky, and the seagulls snatched them right out of the atmosphere!
Aunt Patricia’s voice warned in the background, “You better leave those birds alone, boy.” She sang when she spoke in a quiet voice that could be as loud as thunder when necessary!
Auntie could not imagine the joy I was experiencing. It’s just like a grown-up to try to ruin a kid’s fun! Ignoring her warning, I continued to watch the birds circle while waiting for more Cheez Doodles until there were quite a few circling. One swooped down close to me startling me—helping me decide to end my fun with the birds.
SEAGULLS AND CHEEZ DOODLES ARE MY ENEMY. Regrettably, the birds were not finished with me so easily. As I walked away with my remaining snack, a few more birds swooped towards me giving me a wetting-the-pants level fright! The next moment, seagulls surrounded me—swooping in trying to liberate my snack! Screaming, running, crying, and flailing my arms about, I clutched my snack and darted toward my aunt and cousins.
Have you ever seen those movies where the people are all moving in slow motion, and you cannot seem to understand what they were saying? Well, that did not exactly happen to me. The people were not in slow motion, but they kept yelling at me foreign words that I could not decipher through my tears and howling.
Auntie’s voice boomed above the shouts, “Throw the bag away from you!”
My first thought was why? I am being attacked by angry birds, woman! I suppose I was those birds’ invading pig because it appears they would start hurtling into me to knock me down.
As if she heard my thoughts, she thundered, “They want the Cheez Doodles!”
My snack became my mortal enemy once I understood. I like action movies. I imagine looking at my hand, holding what to me then was the life-threatening explosive I must escape before it detonates! It was less dramatic seeing me flail about on the beach than what was in my head, I wager. We, the snack and I, parted ways like the cork of a wine bottle being unplugged as the birds followed the clear plastic sandwich bag of snacks to the ground and away from me!
Aunt Patricia expressed afterward, “I told you to leave those birds alone. I bet you won’t be feeding ‘em again.”
Since I did not want the snack in the first place, it was an easy solution once I understood what to do to achieve safety—that time.
God knew that I needed to obey my elders; and when I read the Book of Mormon, I discovered the 2060 stripling warriors in the Book of Helaman. Read that book. Thanks to Moroni’s hard work in keeping the record safe that would become the Book of Mormon, I learned that those 2060 young warriors were perfectly honest with God and humanity because they learned to be that way from their mothers.
Aunt Patricia, surrogate mother, and instructor of seagull defense was the one who taught me to go to church, which I never faltered from doing. Hey, that makes an honorary stripling warrior of me in that one thing at least!
THERE IS LOVE IN A WHUPPIN’. Aside from birds attacking me, I courted trouble. I hated the consequences of it. Whuppin’s (whippings) was a consequence of trouble in my kid-life. A whuppin’ is what we would get when we did wrong. Society and law consider it child abuse now, but when I was a kid, you could get a whuppin’ with any object in the vicinity at the time of your transgression. I don’t remember Moroni having anything about that in his writings.
One experience or brush with whuppin’s occurred with Aunt Patricia, who was doing some household chores while all the kids were in one of the bedrooms wrestling and making a big fuss, except me. Things were crashing, and kids were laughing as I parleyed in another bedroom watching Bewitched or I love Lucy. Aunt Patricia peeked in the room where I rested quietly, then proceeded to the other room.
The shouting turned to deathly silence when she said in a calm voice, “All of you get to the front room.”
The kids paraded passed one by one, about five kids. After they went, I too devised a plan to include myself in the whuppin’ as a spectator as I emerged from the room knowing that Aunt Patricia did not include me in the command to go forward. She pulled out the belt and began to talk to us about the reason the whuppin’ would begin!
“Not you Rodric,” Auntie spoke, looking in my direction as I stood, knowing I was not summoned. “You were doing nothing wrong.”
Dang it, I said within myself! I want to witness the whuppin’! Leaving the living room, I smiled within myself as she told me to go back to my show. I knew better than to smile on the outside where Auntie could see because that would get me included in the Whuppin’ in the wrong way!
Turning the TV volume down so I could hear the agonizing cries, I laughed as the beatings began. The sounds were music to my devious little ears. I planned to tease them all later—such a rotten fruit was I! For once, my cries would not be the loudest! The fact that I intended to join the other kids after my TV show in the rumpus made me feel good for being different. It helps you to avoid whuppin’s!
Tears would flow from my eyes at the hint of displeasure in an adult's voice towards my behavior or any time my emotions ran high. Aunt Patricia won my undying respect once when I did some fighting with a cousin (I am not sure whom) and she lectured us. When it was my turn for the whuppin' following the lecture (notice reader how there was never a lecture without a whuppin’),
The beach is where Auntie taught me my first lesson of obedience and trust. I was about 4 or 5 years old at the time enjoying a beautiful sunny day outside. It was probably humid and hot, but kids never feel the heat when we are having fun. Aunt Patricia had just given all us kids a snack of Cheez Doodles and allowed us to wander near on the thinly populated beach.
Learning from experience is important to avoid repeating the same dangerous or bad mistakes. My opening lessons for this book consist of three things:
- Never question an aunt’s warning.
- Seagulls and Cheez Doodles are my enemy.
- There is love in a whuppin’.
NEVER QUESTION AN AUNT’S WARNING. Not wanting to eat my snack, I tossed one Cheez Doodle on the sand. To my amazement, a seagull swooped down and snatched it up! I was delighted! I had never seen such a thing. In my young mind, I had discovered gold or oil (or heard that a new Star Trek movie had come out—the nerd I am)! Filled with exuberance, I threw several Cheez Doodles into the sky, and the seagulls snatched them right out of the atmosphere!
Aunt Patricia’s voice warned in the background, “You better leave those birds alone, boy.” She sang when she spoke in a quiet voice that could be as loud as thunder when necessary!
Auntie could not imagine the joy I was experiencing. It’s just like a grown-up to try to ruin a kid’s fun! Ignoring her warning, I continued to watch the birds circle while waiting for more Cheez Doodles until there were quite a few circling. One swooped down close to me startling me—helping me decide to end my fun with the birds.
SEAGULLS AND CHEEZ DOODLES ARE MY ENEMY. Regrettably, the birds were not finished with me so easily. As I walked away with my remaining snack, a few more birds swooped towards me giving me a wetting-the-pants level fright! The next moment, seagulls surrounded me—swooping in trying to liberate my snack! Screaming, running, crying, and flailing my arms about, I clutched my snack and darted toward my aunt and cousins.
Have you ever seen those movies where the people are all moving in slow motion, and you cannot seem to understand what they were saying? Well, that did not exactly happen to me. The people were not in slow motion, but they kept yelling at me foreign words that I could not decipher through my tears and howling.
Auntie’s voice boomed above the shouts, “Throw the bag away from you!”
My first thought was why? I am being attacked by angry birds, woman! I suppose I was those birds’ invading pig because it appears they would start hurtling into me to knock me down.
As if she heard my thoughts, she thundered, “They want the Cheez Doodles!”
My snack became my mortal enemy once I understood. I like action movies. I imagine looking at my hand, holding what to me then was the life-threatening explosive I must escape before it detonates! It was less dramatic seeing me flail about on the beach than what was in my head, I wager. We, the snack and I, parted ways like the cork of a wine bottle being unplugged as the birds followed the clear plastic sandwich bag of snacks to the ground and away from me!
Aunt Patricia expressed afterward, “I told you to leave those birds alone. I bet you won’t be feeding ‘em again.”
Since I did not want the snack in the first place, it was an easy solution once I understood what to do to achieve safety—that time.
God knew that I needed to obey my elders; and when I read the Book of Mormon, I discovered the 2060 stripling warriors in the Book of Helaman. Read that book. Thanks to Moroni’s hard work in keeping the record safe that would become the Book of Mormon, I learned that those 2060 young warriors were perfectly honest with God and humanity because they learned to be that way from their mothers.
Aunt Patricia, surrogate mother, and instructor of seagull defense was the one who taught me to go to church, which I never faltered from doing. Hey, that makes an honorary stripling warrior of me in that one thing at least!
THERE IS LOVE IN A WHUPPIN’. Aside from birds attacking me, I courted trouble. I hated the consequences of it. Whuppin’s (whippings) was a consequence of trouble in my kid-life. A whuppin’ is what we would get when we did wrong. Society and law consider it child abuse now, but when I was a kid, you could get a whuppin’ with any object in the vicinity at the time of your transgression. I don’t remember Moroni having anything about that in his writings.
One experience or brush with whuppin’s occurred with Aunt Patricia, who was doing some household chores while all the kids were in one of the bedrooms wrestling and making a big fuss, except me. Things were crashing, and kids were laughing as I parleyed in another bedroom watching Bewitched or I love Lucy. Aunt Patricia peeked in the room where I rested quietly, then proceeded to the other room.
The shouting turned to deathly silence when she said in a calm voice, “All of you get to the front room.”
The kids paraded passed one by one, about five kids. After they went, I too devised a plan to include myself in the whuppin’ as a spectator as I emerged from the room knowing that Aunt Patricia did not include me in the command to go forward. She pulled out the belt and began to talk to us about the reason the whuppin’ would begin!
“Not you Rodric,” Auntie spoke, looking in my direction as I stood, knowing I was not summoned. “You were doing nothing wrong.”
Dang it, I said within myself! I want to witness the whuppin’! Leaving the living room, I smiled within myself as she told me to go back to my show. I knew better than to smile on the outside where Auntie could see because that would get me included in the Whuppin’ in the wrong way!
Turning the TV volume down so I could hear the agonizing cries, I laughed as the beatings began. The sounds were music to my devious little ears. I planned to tease them all later—such a rotten fruit was I! For once, my cries would not be the loudest! The fact that I intended to join the other kids after my TV show in the rumpus made me feel good for being different. It helps you to avoid whuppin’s!
Tears would flow from my eyes at the hint of displeasure in an adult's voice towards my behavior or any time my emotions ran high. Aunt Patricia won my undying respect once when I did some fighting with a cousin (I am not sure whom) and she lectured us. When it was my turn for the whuppin' following the lecture (notice reader how there was never a lecture without a whuppin’),
I was so angry with Aunt Patricia I determined in my mind that I would not weep out of spite when she beat me. She gave me six hard licks. As the licks came, I thought that she would beat me until I cried because I assumed adults only stopped whuppin' when they made kids wail in pain. Prepared to protest silently, I would not give her the satisfaction of seeing tears on my face.
After the sixth lick, she told me to leave and not fight anymore. Baffled at why she did not continue, I considered her eyes to see no hate or anger there, just patience. I would gloat about it later to the other kids that I did not cry, but I learned that Aunt Patricia did not whup kids to make us cry. She did so to deter the behavior. Though a whuppin’ rarely worked, I then knew I could trust that Aunt Patricia always had our best interest at heart. She loved me so much she beat my butt to let me know the penalty for fighting. She won my heart by stopping when she thought the licks were enough to get the point across without trying to gratify her pride by getting a fearful and sobbing response. Auntie cemented herself in my mind as my spiritual leader by whuppin’ my butt! |
Chapter One
- Helaman. An account of the Nephites. Their wars and contentions, and their dissensions. And also the prophecies of many holy prophets, before the coming of Christ, according to the records of Helaman, who was the son of Helaman, and also according to the records of his sons, even down to the coming of Christ. And also many of the Lamanites are converted. An account of their conversion. An account of the righteousness of the Lamanites, and the wickedness and abominations of the Nephites, according to the record of Helaman and his sons, even down to the coming of Christ, which is called the book of Helaman, and so forth.
- Bewitched was an American TV comedy originally broadcast for eight seasons on ABC from 1964 to 1972 about a witch married to an ordinary man, who tried to lead the life of a typical suburban housewife.
- I Love Lucy is an American television sitcom starring Lucille Ball, Desi Arnaz, Vivian Vance, and William Frawley that originally ran from 1951 to 1957 on CBS.
- Front room refers to the living room or parlor. This room is the main room of gathering for the home.

Chapter Two - Going to Church
Chapter Two
I loved Pastor White and the things that he taught in church, though I did not understand them all. Auntie took us to the World Deliverance Missionary Evangelistic Center commenced by the Pastor, who represented God to me. Everything he did is what God would do had He stood before us as did this man, with his quick glances and cheery disposition. When he preached, the experience was a treasure because excitement filled the air with the dancing and the shouting that accompanied it.
He was a short man (though, to my kid-brain, he was not) with a mustache neatly trimmed. Pastor White was prophet, seer, and revelator in my mind—not that I knew what those words meant then. Personally, I did not know God. Nevertheless, I knew that Auntie said there was a being called God and reinforced it by taking all us kids to church. I believed her—another Stripling Warrior point!
Three points during this chapter I learned at Pastor White’s church I want to focus on:
CHURCH IS IMPORTANT. Moroni knew that I, and others like me, would be looking for acceptance. He included in his portion of the Book of Mormon the reason why church was important by inscribing how it worked in his day. “The church did meet together oft… to speak one with another concerning the welfare of their souls. ”
To illustrate the inclusivity clause of church is Sister Christian. She had a stout build with kidney bean brown skin. She reminded me of a school teacher, which she probably was.
Sister Christian headed a play at Pastor White’s church performed by us kids. The best actors and actresses received a part in the play. I was a backup actor; however, Sister Christian made me feel as though I was the star! I memorized parts of the other actors and actresses; and I helped with behind the scene things. I, however, was not good enough to be in the theatrical limelight. She never told me so openly. In fact, the pastor stood before the church and praised me for my behind-the-stage and understudy support.
Church, I learned then, is a place of inclusion. If I wanted to be a part of something bigger than myself, I could go to church. The late President Gordon Bitner Hinckley of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints taught that every new church member needs a friend, a job, and nourishment in the gospel. I find that to be true of people in all faiths as it was true in my involvement with World Deliverance. I belonged! Besides letting me know that in church everyone should be included, Sister Christian taught me a valuable lesson also when I approached her with a difficult situation. It occurred during a time when I attended church on my own because Auntie attended a new church and Mom was then living in Miami caring for my younger brother Reggie and me. For some reason, us kids in the neighborhood to which we moved decided to start talking about religion, which we never did.
A family of Catholics lived in the same fenced area that included our duplex. One of the youths, a teen, Buster, started lecturing us about religion when I happened to mention Pastor White's church. All of us kids admired with a glint of near worship this typical lanky teen with short hair, almost to the scalp, as a leader and listened to what he said more than often. Buster always led us, kids, to do the right thing.
Two things happened out of our listening to Buster:
Many of the adults in our neighborhood abused illegal drugs. Unfortunately, my family was no exception at that time. Buster made us all confess that we knew of one (or more) parent who abused illegal drugs. This local messiah of ours ordered us kids to gather all the paraphernalia and drugs when the adults were gone, place them in an iron barrel, and burn the items. We did so. There were hoots and howls from adults all over the area later, but none ever suspected the kids. We were too young to come up with that idea. Buster was not too young; and what he urged us to do felt right.
The other thing that occurred did not sit well with me—his views about God and Christ. Nonetheless, his view of things did prompt a good result. Buster's beliefs about God and Jesus differed from what I learned of Him then, and from any other view I have heard since. Essentially, he taught we are supposed to love Jesus with all our hearts because He came here to save us, and He died for us. I already believed that part, but what Buster explained next did not give me the same good feeling as came when he instructed us to say NO to illegal drugs. (Kudos to Nancy Reagan’s Just Say NO campaign of the 1980s.)
Buster taught that we are supposed to hate God the Father. He did not acquire his views from an Orthodox Catholic background I am confident. I questioned Buster about this several times because it did not feel right. Buster said that God hated humans and tried to flood us out of existence, but Noah survived despite Him! He explained that Jesus tried to save us, and we should only worship Christ because He has our best interests in mind. I was confused, but I accepted it as correct because Buster said it, the teen incarnation of goodness. He made it make sense.
My impressionable mind of spiritual incertitude thought: Of course, mean old God trying to kill everybody, humph! Noah showed Him, right? Jesus had to save us from God. Wait. So, what does the devil do again? No, Buster’s, right‽
When I told Sister Christian about what Buster taught, she listened patiently to my explanation and the reasons I parroted to her from Buster. I felt almost confident as I watched her facial expressions while listening to me without disgust or reprimand. When I finished, I was ready to put the issue to rest and begin my exile of Heavenly Father.
“Broderick,” she called me—never calling me by my given name. “Jesus came from God to save us, do you understand, child?”
She assured me that Buster was incorrect about God the Father, though, I did not understand completely. The inflection in her voice did not warrant a lengthy explanation. It was her words, her testimony that won my mind to her side. She satisfied my mind that I can still worship God.
“God and Jesus Christ have the same plan for us, not separate or competing plans,” she instructed.
Her words were prophetic in nature to my awestricken mind. Jesus Christ instructed,
"I bear record of the Father, and the Father beareth record of me, and the Holy Ghost beareth record of the Father and me; and I bear record that the Father commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent and believe in me."
How could God be opposed to humanity and yet send Someone, even His Son to save the very people He supposedly wanted to destroy. Buster was wrong, and I could feel that!
Sister Christian also said, “You need to stay away from that boy.”
I partially listened. I have yet to regret avoiding Buster's religious teachings, but I could not shun the coolest kid on the block! We just never spoke of religion again.***
In my Protestant heritage, the Holiness/Pentecostal tradition, when you went to church you did not just listen. You participated and answered the Pastor back when he spoke. If he said hallelujah, we would say it with him! We would say as many amens as he required us to say—well, the adults did anyway. Then, there were the others.
The others scared me. The others fell on the floor and convulsed, salivated, and thrashed about. The pastor said the Spirit filled them insinuating that they could not hurt themselves (or others). I was suspicious of this behavior because Aunt Patricia never did that. Not even Pastor did that! Once, one of my cousins collapsed, slain in the Spirit, but still, there was no convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Traditionally, slain in the Spirit means the worshiper is overcome with emotion and experiences a personal connection with God while being oblivious to the environment. No, the others did not behave like they were slain in the Spirit, but more like something was slaying them!
Pastor White made sure that his congregation was educated in the things of God and the things of the devil. He showed us videos often—introducing me to many things that I think I could have lived not knowing at such an early age. One video was of a pastor instructing his flock. A member of the congregation stood up to speak against the pastor's words or God. After the person stood up, his body collapsed to the floor as worms and maggots started to consume his rotting flesh right there in the worship center! What the pastor in this video was trying to teach escapes me; but I know I was afraid! God was cruel, from what I could see! You could not even disagree with the pastor let alone God!
Pastor White showed us videos like that to inform us of the consequences of disobeying God in the fashion Jesus spoke to his disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration as recorded in Mark 9:43-48, which reads,
"And if thy hand offend thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to enter into life maimed, than having two hands to go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched: Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.
And if thy foot offend thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to enter halt into life, than having two feet to be cast into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched: Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched."
"And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out: it is better for thee to enter into the kingdom of God with one eye, than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire: Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.
I will never forget the image of that dissenter’s WORM DYING NOT!"
Truthfully, Pastor White made sure we knew that demons and devils were real showing videos about them; but none of those videos haunted me, as did the worm dying not video! Having the mind of a child, I misunderstood many things because I did not ask questions.
DEMONS ARE REAL. Pastor White spoke about the power of God over the devil in a riveting sermon. In the front row, a light-skinned woman sat prim and proper listening and agreeing with each word that erupted from the anointed lips of the pastor. As the sermon continued, Light-skinned Woman suddenly turned reddish-pink, appearing like the inside of a ham as her body began jerking or convulsing—her neck turning eggplant-purple as if a bruise formed before our eyes. If I had not witnessed it myself, I would be hesitant to mention it. I questioned what type of spiritual manifestation of God caused THAT!
With the sister turning plum-purple, I was not sure quite what to think and wondered what would come of it‽ Pastor noticed this as he gave his sermon on demons and God’s power over them. Putting forth his hand in a theatrical fashion, he commanded in the very name of my master Jesus for that thing to come out of her! So, that time the convulsing and thrashing was not okay because it was not the Spirit of God. It was a demon!
The evil spirit came out as far as I could tell and was loose in the church! People were shouting and praising to get rid of it as other sisters attended to Light-skinned Woman. I supposed they cast whatever the thing was out of the church because services continued as normal. In all honesty and humility, that incident scared the hell out of me! I had no desire to experience an attack by a demon and choke like that woman! Wondering later in life if it was staged or not, I freely confess that at the time, I sure did not intend to find out!
Light-skinned Woman could have merely choked I see in hindsight. One of the sisters attending her could have performed the Heimlich maneuver to save her, and I would not have noticed with my kid-brain and the commotion of people in the church. As a kid, I could not tell what spirit was in control of a person due to the instruction that both demons and the Holy Spirit could cause the same convulsions and contortions of the body and face! What was I supposed to do‽ As would any reasonable kid who did not ask questions would conclude, I did not want ANYTHING to possess my body—holy or evil!
Adding to my growing concern and even greater superstition, one of the deacons, a middle-aged man in that church, said that he would use a garbage bag and catch the demon to get it off the church grounds. Looking back, I remember the adults laughing it up; yet, I found nothing amusing regarding demons. Mortified? Much.
This man walked around the church and caught something. I never inquired about it, though. There was no way I would fall away from the church now! I, however, became very critical of the people who shouted.
A SLAP TO THE FACE CAN BE INSTRUCTIVE. At Pastor White’s church, one, and only one occurrence caused me pause. We were praising the Lord as usual. Well, the kids were snickering at the adults who were praising. We would clap our hands, stomp our feet, and make a noise for the Lord! I loved it! The excitement was enough to get us all going. There was a show every week! I learned that church could be entertaining as well as uplifting (mostly entertaining).
If there were ever a lull in participation in church, Pastor White would get the band and choir going! Some of the members would proceed around the church crying and chanting; others would dance and wave their hands in just a single spot. Still, others would shout and jump up and down with eyes closed chanting and praising and speaking in tongues. The old people would stop limping for a moment, and literally, it seemed like God had healed us all with a Holy Ghost party!
The demon experience and the shouting did not cause me pause. You would think that one of those would! A sister shouted next to me but started to become erratic in her behavior. I had a smirk on my face thinking a demon may possess her by the way she moved. This sister's movements reminded me of demon-possessed Light-skinned Woman; except, this woman's neck remained brown. I could not make sense of why people started convulsing and losing control when they shouted for the Lord because the actions did not fit the message.
I loved Pastor White and the things that he taught in church, though I did not understand them all. Auntie took us to the World Deliverance Missionary Evangelistic Center commenced by the Pastor, who represented God to me. Everything he did is what God would do had He stood before us as did this man, with his quick glances and cheery disposition. When he preached, the experience was a treasure because excitement filled the air with the dancing and the shouting that accompanied it.
He was a short man (though, to my kid-brain, he was not) with a mustache neatly trimmed. Pastor White was prophet, seer, and revelator in my mind—not that I knew what those words meant then. Personally, I did not know God. Nevertheless, I knew that Auntie said there was a being called God and reinforced it by taking all us kids to church. I believed her—another Stripling Warrior point!
Three points during this chapter I learned at Pastor White’s church I want to focus on:
- Church is important.
- Demons are real.
- A slap to the face can be instructive.
CHURCH IS IMPORTANT. Moroni knew that I, and others like me, would be looking for acceptance. He included in his portion of the Book of Mormon the reason why church was important by inscribing how it worked in his day. “The church did meet together oft… to speak one with another concerning the welfare of their souls. ”
To illustrate the inclusivity clause of church is Sister Christian. She had a stout build with kidney bean brown skin. She reminded me of a school teacher, which she probably was.
Sister Christian headed a play at Pastor White’s church performed by us kids. The best actors and actresses received a part in the play. I was a backup actor; however, Sister Christian made me feel as though I was the star! I memorized parts of the other actors and actresses; and I helped with behind the scene things. I, however, was not good enough to be in the theatrical limelight. She never told me so openly. In fact, the pastor stood before the church and praised me for my behind-the-stage and understudy support.
Church, I learned then, is a place of inclusion. If I wanted to be a part of something bigger than myself, I could go to church. The late President Gordon Bitner Hinckley of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints taught that every new church member needs a friend, a job, and nourishment in the gospel. I find that to be true of people in all faiths as it was true in my involvement with World Deliverance. I belonged! Besides letting me know that in church everyone should be included, Sister Christian taught me a valuable lesson also when I approached her with a difficult situation. It occurred during a time when I attended church on my own because Auntie attended a new church and Mom was then living in Miami caring for my younger brother Reggie and me. For some reason, us kids in the neighborhood to which we moved decided to start talking about religion, which we never did.
A family of Catholics lived in the same fenced area that included our duplex. One of the youths, a teen, Buster, started lecturing us about religion when I happened to mention Pastor White's church. All of us kids admired with a glint of near worship this typical lanky teen with short hair, almost to the scalp, as a leader and listened to what he said more than often. Buster always led us, kids, to do the right thing.
Two things happened out of our listening to Buster:
- We understood that illegal drugs were bad.
- We learned a different way to view God and Christ.
Many of the adults in our neighborhood abused illegal drugs. Unfortunately, my family was no exception at that time. Buster made us all confess that we knew of one (or more) parent who abused illegal drugs. This local messiah of ours ordered us kids to gather all the paraphernalia and drugs when the adults were gone, place them in an iron barrel, and burn the items. We did so. There were hoots and howls from adults all over the area later, but none ever suspected the kids. We were too young to come up with that idea. Buster was not too young; and what he urged us to do felt right.
The other thing that occurred did not sit well with me—his views about God and Christ. Nonetheless, his view of things did prompt a good result. Buster's beliefs about God and Jesus differed from what I learned of Him then, and from any other view I have heard since. Essentially, he taught we are supposed to love Jesus with all our hearts because He came here to save us, and He died for us. I already believed that part, but what Buster explained next did not give me the same good feeling as came when he instructed us to say NO to illegal drugs. (Kudos to Nancy Reagan’s Just Say NO campaign of the 1980s.)
Buster taught that we are supposed to hate God the Father. He did not acquire his views from an Orthodox Catholic background I am confident. I questioned Buster about this several times because it did not feel right. Buster said that God hated humans and tried to flood us out of existence, but Noah survived despite Him! He explained that Jesus tried to save us, and we should only worship Christ because He has our best interests in mind. I was confused, but I accepted it as correct because Buster said it, the teen incarnation of goodness. He made it make sense.
My impressionable mind of spiritual incertitude thought: Of course, mean old God trying to kill everybody, humph! Noah showed Him, right? Jesus had to save us from God. Wait. So, what does the devil do again? No, Buster’s, right‽
When I told Sister Christian about what Buster taught, she listened patiently to my explanation and the reasons I parroted to her from Buster. I felt almost confident as I watched her facial expressions while listening to me without disgust or reprimand. When I finished, I was ready to put the issue to rest and begin my exile of Heavenly Father.
“Broderick,” she called me—never calling me by my given name. “Jesus came from God to save us, do you understand, child?”
She assured me that Buster was incorrect about God the Father, though, I did not understand completely. The inflection in her voice did not warrant a lengthy explanation. It was her words, her testimony that won my mind to her side. She satisfied my mind that I can still worship God.
“God and Jesus Christ have the same plan for us, not separate or competing plans,” she instructed.
Her words were prophetic in nature to my awestricken mind. Jesus Christ instructed,
"I bear record of the Father, and the Father beareth record of me, and the Holy Ghost beareth record of the Father and me; and I bear record that the Father commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent and believe in me."
How could God be opposed to humanity and yet send Someone, even His Son to save the very people He supposedly wanted to destroy. Buster was wrong, and I could feel that!
Sister Christian also said, “You need to stay away from that boy.”
I partially listened. I have yet to regret avoiding Buster's religious teachings, but I could not shun the coolest kid on the block! We just never spoke of religion again.***
In my Protestant heritage, the Holiness/Pentecostal tradition, when you went to church you did not just listen. You participated and answered the Pastor back when he spoke. If he said hallelujah, we would say it with him! We would say as many amens as he required us to say—well, the adults did anyway. Then, there were the others.
The others scared me. The others fell on the floor and convulsed, salivated, and thrashed about. The pastor said the Spirit filled them insinuating that they could not hurt themselves (or others). I was suspicious of this behavior because Aunt Patricia never did that. Not even Pastor did that! Once, one of my cousins collapsed, slain in the Spirit, but still, there was no convulsing and foaming at the mouth. Traditionally, slain in the Spirit means the worshiper is overcome with emotion and experiences a personal connection with God while being oblivious to the environment. No, the others did not behave like they were slain in the Spirit, but more like something was slaying them!
Pastor White made sure that his congregation was educated in the things of God and the things of the devil. He showed us videos often—introducing me to many things that I think I could have lived not knowing at such an early age. One video was of a pastor instructing his flock. A member of the congregation stood up to speak against the pastor's words or God. After the person stood up, his body collapsed to the floor as worms and maggots started to consume his rotting flesh right there in the worship center! What the pastor in this video was trying to teach escapes me; but I know I was afraid! God was cruel, from what I could see! You could not even disagree with the pastor let alone God!
Pastor White showed us videos like that to inform us of the consequences of disobeying God in the fashion Jesus spoke to his disciples on the Mount of Transfiguration as recorded in Mark 9:43-48, which reads,
"And if thy hand offend thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to enter into life maimed, than having two hands to go into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched: Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.
And if thy foot offend thee, cut it off: it is better for thee to enter halt into life, than having two feet to be cast into hell, into the fire that never shall be quenched: Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched."
"And if thine eye offend thee, pluck it out: it is better for thee to enter into the kingdom of God with one eye, than having two eyes to be cast into hell fire: Where their worm dieth not, and the fire is not quenched.
I will never forget the image of that dissenter’s WORM DYING NOT!"
Truthfully, Pastor White made sure we knew that demons and devils were real showing videos about them; but none of those videos haunted me, as did the worm dying not video! Having the mind of a child, I misunderstood many things because I did not ask questions.
DEMONS ARE REAL. Pastor White spoke about the power of God over the devil in a riveting sermon. In the front row, a light-skinned woman sat prim and proper listening and agreeing with each word that erupted from the anointed lips of the pastor. As the sermon continued, Light-skinned Woman suddenly turned reddish-pink, appearing like the inside of a ham as her body began jerking or convulsing—her neck turning eggplant-purple as if a bruise formed before our eyes. If I had not witnessed it myself, I would be hesitant to mention it. I questioned what type of spiritual manifestation of God caused THAT!
With the sister turning plum-purple, I was not sure quite what to think and wondered what would come of it‽ Pastor noticed this as he gave his sermon on demons and God’s power over them. Putting forth his hand in a theatrical fashion, he commanded in the very name of my master Jesus for that thing to come out of her! So, that time the convulsing and thrashing was not okay because it was not the Spirit of God. It was a demon!
The evil spirit came out as far as I could tell and was loose in the church! People were shouting and praising to get rid of it as other sisters attended to Light-skinned Woman. I supposed they cast whatever the thing was out of the church because services continued as normal. In all honesty and humility, that incident scared the hell out of me! I had no desire to experience an attack by a demon and choke like that woman! Wondering later in life if it was staged or not, I freely confess that at the time, I sure did not intend to find out!
Light-skinned Woman could have merely choked I see in hindsight. One of the sisters attending her could have performed the Heimlich maneuver to save her, and I would not have noticed with my kid-brain and the commotion of people in the church. As a kid, I could not tell what spirit was in control of a person due to the instruction that both demons and the Holy Spirit could cause the same convulsions and contortions of the body and face! What was I supposed to do‽ As would any reasonable kid who did not ask questions would conclude, I did not want ANYTHING to possess my body—holy or evil!
Adding to my growing concern and even greater superstition, one of the deacons, a middle-aged man in that church, said that he would use a garbage bag and catch the demon to get it off the church grounds. Looking back, I remember the adults laughing it up; yet, I found nothing amusing regarding demons. Mortified? Much.
This man walked around the church and caught something. I never inquired about it, though. There was no way I would fall away from the church now! I, however, became very critical of the people who shouted.
A SLAP TO THE FACE CAN BE INSTRUCTIVE. At Pastor White’s church, one, and only one occurrence caused me pause. We were praising the Lord as usual. Well, the kids were snickering at the adults who were praising. We would clap our hands, stomp our feet, and make a noise for the Lord! I loved it! The excitement was enough to get us all going. There was a show every week! I learned that church could be entertaining as well as uplifting (mostly entertaining).
If there were ever a lull in participation in church, Pastor White would get the band and choir going! Some of the members would proceed around the church crying and chanting; others would dance and wave their hands in just a single spot. Still, others would shout and jump up and down with eyes closed chanting and praising and speaking in tongues. The old people would stop limping for a moment, and literally, it seemed like God had healed us all with a Holy Ghost party!
The demon experience and the shouting did not cause me pause. You would think that one of those would! A sister shouted next to me but started to become erratic in her behavior. I had a smirk on my face thinking a demon may possess her by the way she moved. This sister's movements reminded me of demon-possessed Light-skinned Woman; except, this woman's neck remained brown. I could not make sense of why people started convulsing and losing control when they shouted for the Lord because the actions did not fit the message.
Well, somehow this sister must have heard what I mused in my mind because without even looking in my direction she slapped the teeth out of my mouth—figuratively, of course! I was stunned! This grown woman had hit me, a kid! I looked at my Auntie for some understanding. She gave a look that I cherish to this day and applied to my life. In her expression, my kid-brain thought she told me,
I know that woman struck you and I am sorry about that. Now, maybe you will not be so judgmental about how people shout. I figured she knew my estimation of the members who looked possessed by a demon rather than the Holy Spirit. She comforted me, and we continued to sing. I never did make fun of anyone else who shouted. I kept my opinion about it to myself. Thinking in my heart that God was cruel and not knowing how to resolve that feeling, I buried it deep within my soul. What could I do to know why God did what He did? I was afraid of Him! Funny how catching a demon in a trash bag did not warrant any thought from me, but a slap to the face caused me pause. I also swore by Heaven that if the Holy Ghost made people do things like that—the slapping and the foaming and convulsing—I never wanted to have it! I am so glad I learned what the true manifestations of the Spirit are, “…love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, meekness, temperance…” As Paul reveals to the Galatians, “against such there is no law.” I, however, did not know those things until much, much later.
|
Chapter Two
- Moroni 6:5. And the church did meet together oft, to fast and to pray, and to speak one with another concerning the welfare of their souls.
- “Converts and Young Men” in the 1997 Ensign of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints. With the ever-increasing number of converts, we must make an increasingly substantial effort to assist them as they find their way. Every one of them needs three things: a friend, a responsibility, and nurturing with “the good word of God” (Moro. 6:4). It is our duty and opportunity to provide these things. Found at https://www.lds.org/general-conference/1997/04/converts-and-young-men?lang=eng
- 3 Nephi 11:32. And this is my doctrine, and it is the doctrine which the Father hath given unto me; and I bear record of the Father, and the Father beareth record of me, and the Holy Ghost beareth record of the Father and me; and I bear record that the Father commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent and believe in me.
- In case it is an unfamiliar term, light-skinned is what Black people use to describe people with less melanin in their skin of the Black race. Good examples of light-skinned people are Lena Horne, Halle Berry, Will and Jada Smith…the picture should be clear.
- Galatians 5:22-23 But the fruit of the Spirit is love, joy, peace, longsuffering, gentleness, goodness, faith, Meekness, temperance: against such there is no law.