In the dynamic landscape of hip-hop culture within places of worship today, I vividly recall a time when the mere suggestion of integrating hip-hop into the church was considered blasphemous. Engaging in a recent conversation here in Canada with a fellow believer brought back memories of New Birth Missionary Baptist Church, triggering a flood of nostalgic recollections akin to Duck at the outset of "The Five Heartbeats." 

At some point I mentioned that, as far as I know, I am the first person to do what was then called “Gospel Rap” in Atlanta, GA  to which he rattled off a bunch of names like Lecre, The Cross Movement, Gospel Gangstaz, DC Talk just to name a few. . . “Yeah I was rapping in churches all over town before any of that came out”, I replied.

Rewind to 1988, the summer that marked my transition from Miami to Atlanta. New Birth was hosting a talent show to conclude the annual Vacation Bible School. Drawn by the mesmerizing performance of older youth in my former church, who conveyed an anti-drug message through rap, I was inspired. Simultaneously, my mother introduced me to Michael Peace's cassette tape, and the track "J-E-S-U-S" captivated my imagination. With the idea firmly planted, I decided to perform this song at the talent show.

However, New Birth was a staunchly traditional Southern Baptist church at the time, with images of deacons singing common meter hymns standing at the front awaiting new converts. The mere mention of rap elicited outrage from the older congregants, setting the stage for a battle I hadn't anticipated.

Volunteering for the talent show on its second day subjected me to a barrage of parades and shame orchestrated by disapproving adults. While it might sound over-dramatic, the experience was traumatic for a young artist who couldn't comprehend why his positive expression faced such resistance. As the final day approached, the unwanted attention led me to withdraw from the talent show—after all, what was I thinking, having never rapped in front of an audience?

A turning point occurred when the primary instigator confronted me in a narrow hallway, urging the then-Pastor Rev. Eddie Long to quash this "foolishness." The tense moment unfolded as everyone awaited the verdict. To my surprise, the pastor calmly closed his eyes, then opened them and uttered, "Let him rap." I was torn between relief and reluctance, hoping for an out, and reluctantly agreed to perform last, anticipating a time crunch.

Standing before an audience of approximately 200 people for the first time, I questioned my choices. A brief explanation preceded a performance that would go down in history. The response was beyond imagination, captured audibly as my voice shifted gears upon realizing the impact. This moment catapulted me into the role of the church's resident rapper, with invitations to perform and compose rap for various events across metro Atlanta.

This uncharted territory, both for myself and the church, became the catalyst for who we are today. This transformative journey at New Birth Missionary Baptist Church laid the foundation for pioneering Gospel Rap in Atlanta, shaping my identity and leaving an indelible mark on the intersection of hip-hop and spirituality.

Don't miss the chance to experience the transformative power of Sterling Anthony's music. Visit SterlingAnthony.net now and immerse yourself in the spiritual tapestry of "The End . . . 90 Seconds to Midnight."