Hades' Melody. JD Belcher
Brother Gil always called the chief overseer, and Robert Sumpter, another one of the original, wise men of the ministry. On the other was David Baird, the ruddy Youth Pastor at CCOP, and Jim Ward, a loyal big brother since BK’s inception.
Light inspirational music filled the room, and I followed the lead of what everyone else was doing by performing quiet meditation and silent prayer. Some sat on sofas in the room, and some lay on the floor. Brother Gil walked around and anointed our heads with oil. After prayer, we gathered in a separate room for a foot-washing ceremony while verses from the Gospel of John, when Jesus washed his disciples’ feet, were read.
When it was time to pray again, we took turns minis-tering to each other out loud, and I could feel a powerful, overwhelming presence of peace rising in the room. I always became very nervous when it was my turn, for fear of nothing coming out of my mouth, saying something silly or just outright laughing. But that night, I ignored the doubt, gave in, and trusted God to do the rest, as I, the youngest and most inexperienced participant, began to intercede for the other men. I let go of myself and spoke from my spirit in total faith. As the presence in the room became stronger, we all began to cry.
Next, it was time to prophesy. We took turns gathering around a brother, one at a time, to lay our hands on him, pray for him, and to speak if God had placed something on our hearts to say. When it was my turn to be prophesied over, I closed my eyes and felt the warmth of the men’s hands as they were pressed on my head, my arms, my legs, and my chest. The commanding tranquil-ity in the room continued to overwhelm me, and I cried again.
Among the many prayers and prophecies given before God in this huddle of men, one stuck with me. While I was being prayed over, I heard the voice of Brother David. He prophesied that I would one day write a book, and the title of the book would be called They Have My Heart.
After prayer, we gathered at a table and discussed the planning options for BK over the next year. Ideas, comments, and suggestions were taken by all until a picture of what the next season would look like came into focus. Some of the men went home that evening, and some stayed the night after the meeting had finished. A part of me wanted to leave and return to my apartment like the others had done, but since I didn’t drive myself, I thought it might have been too much to ask Brother Gil to take me back to Oakland. So, I stayed.
42
Hades’ Melody When I returned home in the morning, I noticed how I didn’t feel the same as when I was first picked up—a significant change had taken place within me as a result of all of our prayer. Though at first I dreaded attending the core meeting and had made several excuses within myself not to take part, once again, when it was all said and done, I was glad I’d gone.
As I became regularly involved in BK activities as a big brother, Brother Gil challenged me by asking if I’d be interested in praying with him once a week.
Initially, I thought he meant after the BK meetings on Wednesday nights, which wouldn’t have been a problem at all. I thought that at the end of each night, we would pray, and then I could go home. But he suggested that we pray early in the morning by telephone. I hesitantly agreed, and we started the following week. A day or two before prayer time, we’d email a list of our requests to each other. At 5:30 a.m. on the appointed day, I’d take out the list he’d sent me, and we’d pray before we left for work. I noticed a trend: without fail, one hundred percent of the time, I’d have a better day when we prayed than when we didn’t. We followed this routine for almost two years, praying for the young children in the ministry to the president of the United States—and God answered our prayers. Brother Gil had a name for our prayer time together. He called it Meeting at the Gate.
CHAPTER FIVE
August 2000.
I received my call while relaxing at home one very warm early evening, after a hard day’s work at Technical Services. At the beginning of the summer, I had moved from Louisa Street in Oakland to a compact, third floor apartment atop a house in Highland Park. It was a peaceful, quaint neighborhood in the northeast section of Pittsburgh. The street was lined with towering oaks that added shade to Fulton Elementary School across the street and Saint Andrew’s Episcopal Church a block away. AJ, the only remaining trace of my college days at Pitt, and I were roommates again.
The house was on the corner of Hampton and Mellon streets. Each floor was its own separate apartment. The tiny front yard was circled by a low hedge, which went around the Mellon Street side of the building and along the equally miniature backyard. A large front porch spanned the entire width of the house, and a six-foot walkway separated us from the neighbors next door.
Three garbage cans lined the alleyway on one side, one for each floor. A steel fire escape, painted black, wrapped around the other side and went up to my living room window.
The first-floor apartment was occupied by a heavyset black woman in her forties. She lived with her fifteen-year-old daughter. They had never mentioned a father, and as far as I knew, she was raising the girl alone. On the second floor, a brunette in her thirties lived alongside a beautiful white husky with pale blue eyes. My apartment was a charming, loft-style space at the top of a long flight of carpeted stairs. Inside was a living room, a small kitchen, a bedroom, and a spacious bathroom. The place had been furnished with Persian rugs, a dinette set, a couch, and a queen-size bed. The landlord had even left behind three cans of paint if I ever decided to do any small touch ups.
When I answered the phone, I heard the baritone voice of Brother Gil on the line. Coco, my gorgeous Himalayan cat, who had bright azure eyes and brown paws, curled up against my leg. She had been given to me as a Christmas gift from Brian’s sister the year before.
“Hello, Jovon,” he said with his deep, rumbling voice, one which always seemed to startle me whenever I answered his calls. “How are you doing this evening?”
“Good, good,” I echoed, repeating the word nervously. “How are you, Brother Gil?”
“I’m doing wonderful,” he said hurriedly. “I also have Brother Leon on the line…”
“Oh,” I said, responding to the surprise. “Hi, Brother Leon. How are you?”
“I’m doing well,” he answered.
Brother Gil spoke first.
“Because of the commitment and diligence you’ve shown in your involvement with BK, we believe that God rewards his people, those who faithfully serve him.
You have been involved in this program since the age of thirteen, and while you were in high school and college, you followed our steps and served as a big brother to the children of single-parent mothers, children who weren’t your own. But because God said so, you have been obedient in this ministry. You have spent your time after long days at work, time you could have been using to do a number of other things, to volunteer in this ministry with helping young men to achieve excellence…”
I sat down on the floor and stared at the carpet.
“In the same manner, we are going to be obedient to God towards you. In the past, we were your big brothers. Brother Leon, Brother Rob, Brother Dave, and all the others. As you know, we, the board of governors, have been investing in the lives of young men like yourself for over ten years, to those who don’t have fathers in their lives, and by overseeing the daily operation of the ministry of BK. However, we believe God is doing something new. We believe it is time to bring in the next generation of leadership to BK. We want you to come on board with the rest of the men and become a member of the board of governors. We have acquired some money to create the position of program coordinator for BK. I took the baton from our chief overseer Leon Haynes and assumed responsibility for organizing the meetings every Wednesday, along with the other tasks needed to continue with this ministry. What we want to do now is pass the baton to you. You have demonstrated the commitment. You have been faithful to what God has called you to do, and we want to know if you are interested in becoming the Brothers Keepers Program Coordinator…?”
When they offered a salary exceeding