Black Camelots Dazed by Death

 Reverend Joseph Frank Hall looked out across the crowd. It

was a September Sunday, but the church was packed as if it were

Christmas or Easter. Some 2,500 people were in the main

sanctuary. The two overflow rooms at FreeWill Baptist were

crammed with another 1,000 people.

 Today, even the lobby and aisles were filled. People were hungry to

hear the Word of God.

 Rev. Hall had seen a lot over his three decades leading FreeWill

Baptist. A big part of his job heading the city’s largest Black church was

dealing with the pain of tragedy and providing comfort for his large

congregation.

 As he looked at the filled church, he saw fathers holding sons and

daughters tightly, and women standing up praying with hands outstretched

to the sky. Young and old parishioners looked at him anxiously with tears

filling their eyes.

 “Oh Lord, give comfort to your brethren,” he whispered, as he closed

his eyes.

 He’d seen that look among his parishioners over the years. He called

them “surrender faces”. It was the look they wore when life became too

tough, and they’d come to him and to God for comfort. He’d come to

expect that look during bad times, but what tore at him most, what ripped

and shook his strength, were the confused faces of young kids. Today,

many appeared bewildered as they watched the adults caught up in the

Holy Spirit or simply calling out to God for answers. God had given Rev.

Hall the gift as a pastor to provide a healing balm.