Extemporaneous musings, occasionally poetic, about life in its richly varied dimensions, especially as relates to history, theology, law, literature, science, by one who is an attorney, ordained minister, historian, writer, and African American.
Thursday, February 22, 2018
LOOKS LIKE A PREACHER
MUST LOOK LIKE A PREACHER
I must look like a preacher.
Once exiting an airplane in Chicago O'Hara Airport in the '90s, I almost bumped into a big fair-skinned man wearing a big cross on his chest, as we rounded a sharp, blind corner.
Before I could beg his pardon, he immediately greeted me with this question: "What'd you preach about yesterday, Doc ?" I was blown away by his perceptiveness!
Indeed, I was an AME preacher and also an attorney. This latter status had required my presence in Chicago; and the other gentlemen was an AME Bishop, from St. Louis, who I did not know; whose children had attended Howard University with me. I told him that fact . We chatted briefly. He boarded. I left.
Another time, a few years later, I drove our family into a Holiday Inn Hotel in Memphis, Tennessee, that was directly across the street from the famous Peabody Hotel; there, the National Bar Association (NBA) annual convention that was being conducted, was headquartered .
No sooner had I opened the door of our Dodge Ram van , than the bellman met me at the van's door with "Praise the Lord" and similar Christian greetings typical of black church members. He was so effusive , in fact, that I had to ask him, how did he know that I was a preacher ? I was wearing an NBA cap with nothing to distinguish my appearance. He said he was also a preacher and that the anointing was all over me. I tipped him well!
On any number of other occasions, when I was simply visiting other black churches, the sharp ushers usually have always asked if I was a minister? These thoughts come to mind this evening as the son of the bishop referred to above emailed me about the death of our old law professor at Howard Law School, the honorable J. Clay Smith, SJD.