Religion: Marathons

In Washington, D. C. six years ago, Rev. Gose Zelder Brown of Mount Zion Baptist Church (Negro) mounted his pulpit, preached for three hours on Gambling, took a little nourishment, continued preaching on Dancing, Famine, Pestilence, Drought. He did not stop until he had preached 88,794 words in 12 hr., 10 min. Robert L. (“Believe It or Not”) Ripley publicized Preacher Brown’s achievement as an ecclesiastical record. It stood until last fortnight, when in the Negro Monumental Baptist Church in Pittsburgh, Dr. David Buyabuve Mdodana preached in celebration of the 25th anniversary of his pastorate.

Born in Idutywa, South Africa, David Mdodana was taken to the U. S. in his youth by Baptist missionaries. They sent him to several Negro universities—Shaw, Tuskegee, Hampton, Selma. He celebrated 25 years of work by donning a white satin robe stitched by women of his church, preaching 25 of his best sermons consecutively in 17 hours. Some of the sermons: The Prodigal Son, The Beam and the Mote, Be Still, Ethiopia Stretches Forth Her Hands, Where Are We Spiritually, Educationally and Socially?, The Soul’s Anchor, The Borrowed Axe.

Last week in Los Angeles Rev. A. (for Alton) Earl Lee, 39, onetime disciple of Aimee Semple McPherson, set out in his small Immanuel Temple to better the marathoning records of Preacher Brown and Dr. Mdodana. Preacher Lee, a curly-haired, wisp-mustached University of California graduate, declared he would preach continuously for 60 hours. He hired a nurse and dietitian, a portable microphone, had food, wearing apparel and a rubdown table placed in his vestry. Subject of his sermon: “The Deity of God in Jesus Christ.”

When Preacher Lee mounted his pulpit he cried, “This is not a publicity stunt.” Photographers’ bulbs flashed in his face. “What I mean,” he continued, “is that there is a real purpose behind my preaching. If it brings publicity which will bring converts to the faith, then all is well.” While a crowded, sandwich-munching congregation gawped, Preacher Lee launched his sermon, using no notes, expounding God and Christ chapter by chapter from the Bible. He was still in Genesis when the dietitian brought him dinner, which afforded a digression. “I never liked spinach. . . . And I never liked turnips,” he cried, his mouth full of them. “Hallelujah!”

Preacher Lee continued through the night, shouting into the microphone when he retired to the vestry to change his clothing, attend to needs of nature, shave, relax on the rubdown table. Some 200 worshipers stuck it out with him all that night.

Next day Preacher Lee was hoarse, weary. In the morning he ploughed along, still in the Old Testament, finally whispered: “The spirit is willing but the flesh is weak.” Averaging about 185 words a minute, he had preached 21 hr. 20 min., spoken some 200,000 words. He went to bed, soon arose feeling fit and claiming he had gained a pound. Then he donned a white silk blouse of his own design, which he usually wears only at baptismal services, and posed for photographers.