Amen For The Men

Elder George Hancock Sr. held out his hands as Assistant Pastor Diane Daniley Langford unscrewed the cap of a bottle of Filippo Berio olive oil and poured a splash on his palms.

The healing power of Jesus is here. Father I give you praise.

Minister Dexter Peacock sat behind a keyboard and played, filling the church with repeating bars. It was time to start preaching, and healing.

In the name of Jesus, I thank you Father.

The Men’s Turn

Hancock doesn’t usually preach on Sundays at Victory Temple, a small Pentecostal church on Morse Street in southern Hamden. Female pastors do. They also provide the musical accompaniment.

But this past Sunday was not an ordinary Sunday. It was annual men’s day.

As Langford explained at the beginning of the service, ​“We come, amen, to celebrate our men, amen.”

Annual Men’s day is a day to focus on the men in the congregation and to help them cultivate their relationships with God so that they can learn ​“how to be good husbands, fathers and to be strong as they work as a team.” The first annual men’s day took place on Feb. 24, 1991. It was the brainchild of the late Pastor John Daniley.

This Sunday marked the 29th annual men’s day at Victory Temple. Pastor Darlene Hayes Daniley, John Daniley’s widow, and Langford, his daughter, now preside over the services.

On Sunday, Hancock and Peacock were the male guests invited to preach and heal. And to tell personal stories that reflect an ongoing theme at Victory Temple: Second chances, rebuilding lives from depths of despair.

Once the congregants had filed up the aisle to place their offerings in one of the three golden bowls set out on the altar, all the while singing, ​“I made a vow to the Lord and I won’t take it back,” Peacock took the microphone to speak.

“I thank the Lord on this day I get to see y’all,” he began. Peacock used to be a member of Victory Temple until he got ordained as a minister himself and went to a congregation in New Haven.

He then began his introduction of Hancock.

Hancock had come from Stamford, where he usually preaches at Miracle Healing Ministry.

“We grew up together, and not only did we grow up together, we ran the streets together,” Peacock said. ​“We did prison time together.”

He then described how he had fallen four stories out of a window and had a terrible leg injury. The doctors did operation after operation, and each time it didn’t work. When he went for a sixth procedure, the doctor told him he didn’t know if it would work.

“I said Lord, ​‘I know that you’re a God that healeth. I’m tired of walking in pain,’” he recalled.

Before the operation, he was resigned to the fact that he might lose his leg. ​“I might as well start picking out wheelchairs,” he recalled thinking. But he went to a service with Hancock, and then had the surgery, and finally, it worked. ​“I see the miracles that are happening.”

Neck Brace Comes Off

Next, David Goodman spoke. He recounted that he had become a drug dealer when he was young, and then became addicted by the time he was 21. He would often see his mother’s car outside of a church, and when he asked his brother what she was doing there so often, his brother had replied: ​“she in there praying for you.”

Later in life he become prosperous and then lost it all again. He wanted to reconnect with the church so he called Peacock and arranged to go with him, but the Wednesday before, he fell down the stairs at work. His coworkers told him not to move. As soon as he tried, he felt pain shooting from his neck to his shoulders, and realized he had broken his neck.

“And I said ​‘God, I thank you anyway’.”

Last week, he was still in a neck brace when he went to a service with Hancock. During the service, he recalled, ​“the holy spirit came down” and told him to remove the neck brace. He took it off and turned his head side to side.

From ​“Pretty Boy Gangster”

Hancock finally came to the front to speak and told his story.

He grew up in Harlem, he said, and became a gang leader. His street name was Gorgeous George. He was ​“one of them pretty-boy gangsters.” He said he shot dope and cocaine, and he eventually became extremely ill.

“I was sick, and I know what it means to be sick… I just kept on calling those things that be not as though they are, you understand, and I stood on the promises of God,” he said, making reference to Romans 4:17.

He explained that God had then raised him up and turned his life around. Now, he said, he preaches and heals people.

“He raised me up from the dead to be a beacon of that power. And I know that He works with me.”

When a friend had a stroke recently, he went to visit him. They used to fish together, he said.

“I rebuked the devil and I told him to loose his mouth and let him talk. I said, ​‘Now Father, raise him up that we be able to go fishing again.’”

On the fifth day after the visit, Hancock declared, they went out fishing.

Vivian Steps Forward

Hancock rubbed his hands together and walked over to Vivian Daniley, who was sitting in one of the side rows. Someone had pulled her walker away for her. Hancock knelt, placing his hands on her knees. Then, he took her arms, one in each hand.

Slowly, she stood.

“We thank you God,” Hancock said. ​“We thank you Jesus.”

Vivian Daniley took a tiny step. Then another. Then another. Slowly, she and Hancock made their way to the front of the room.

“In the name of Jesus, thank you Jesus, thank you God, thank you God, thank you God, thank you Jesus,” echoed the congregation.

Daniley began to lift her legs a little higher.

“Up and down, yes, there you go, yes,” continued Hancock. ​“The legs got to get the strength, and the Father’s doing that.”

The music continued to play, Peacock singing into the mic above the keyboard. The congregation continued to chant encouragement.

Slowly, Hancock brought Daniley back to her chair, and finally she sat. She lifted her arms to her sides, eyes closed. ​“Hallelujah.”

Before she left the service on Sunday, she smiled and said, ​“Next time I see you, I might be walking.”

2 Jasons

“Who’s next?” Pastor Langford asked, looking out at the congregation.

She pointed to a man in the back row. The man, Jason, walked up through the aisle.

Hancock reached out his hands and clutched Jason’s head.

“Release him,” he said, and held onto him for a moment, then let go.

“You’re free, buddy, you’re free.”

Jason, who preferred to go by his first name only, is a regular member of the congregation at Victory Temple. He said he hopes that faith will ​“help me get my life back on track, and hopefully get housing, and just do the right thing. God is good.”

Right now, he said, he’s homeless. He’s been staying in a shelter. He hopes that will change soon. He can’t come to church every Sunday because sometimes he has to work up in Waterbury, but he comes as much as he can. ​“It helps me to the next week.”

By the time Jason walked back to his seat, a long line of congregants had formed. Next in line was another Jason. Jason Addison.

Addison said he suffers from Grave’s disease. He has to take medications for the rest of his life for it, though he hoped that Hancock’s healing might help.

Right now, he lives with his mother, Adriene Addison, in West Haven. He said he should be moving soon, but that for now, it was good that he is with her, because ​“me and her is bringing our family back together.”

He said he’s been through some tough times, but he feels he has a responsibility on his shoulders. ​“I need to step up my position as a man and raise other men up.” He has plans to launch his own clothing line in the next couple of weeks called God $ent Apparel.

Unchained Melody

Victory Temple meets every Sunday at 11 a.m. for Sabbath services. Langford runs an outreach ministry that aims to help the formerly incarcerated and people struggling with addiction find faith and create a new life. 

On Sunday, as it had the previous Sunday, the service began with song flowing into song, the singers changing, the mics breaking and getting fixed, and congregation moving about, but the song never stopping. At one point, as Langford sang the verse ​“I have to cry sometimes,” her mic stopped working. Associate Minister Mary Clinkscale passed her the one she was using and Langford continued. But then the second mic stopped working.

The song continued: ​“Jesus gonna fix it. Jesus gonna fix it.”

Adriene Addison took the mic from Langford and brought it to the other room.

Langford and the congregation continued: ​“Jesus gonna fix it.”

When Addison reappeared, the mic was fixed. The music kept going.