Down through history, Black children have had their lives threatened — or at least strongly disciplined — for misbehaving in church, especially for talking during the service.

Adults, however, were often allowed — even encouraged — to respond during worship.

Amen. Preach, Pastor. Say it again.

At its best, Black worship is defined by a lively call-and-response between preacher and congregation — a tradition rooted in African spiritual practices and carried forward in the secret worship gatherings known as hush harbors.

“The Black sermon is a communal event,” said Henry H. Mitchell, author of “Celebration and Experience in Preaching.” “The congregation does not merely listen; it participates in shaping the moment.”

Biblically, call-and-response patterns appear throughout Scripture. The Psalms were designed for responsive reading — Psalm 136 repeats the refrain “for his mercy endureth for ever” in the King James Version. In the New Testament, the public affirmation “Amen” itself functions as a congregational response (1 Corinthians 14:16).

While rooted in Black church culture, the practice spread widely during 20th-century revival movements. Television evangelism and large conferences helped popularize the now-familiar instructions from the pulpit: Tell three people… or Turn to your neighbor…

Today, these moments are common in Black Baptist churches, Pentecostal and Holiness traditions, charismatic ministries, and many nondenominational megachurches.

The Origin of “Neighbor, Oh Neighbor”

The Right Rev. Frank Madison Reid says he helped popularize one of the most recognizable versions of the phrase.

“Neighbor, oh neighbor.”

While many preachers simply say “Turn to your neighbor,” Reid delivered the phrase in a distinctive cadence that congregants quickly remembered.

Reid says he first heard it as a child when he occasionally slipped away from the African Methodist Episcopal church his father pastored to visit nearby Church of God in Christ congregations, particularly St. James AME in St. Louis.

“That’s where I heard it. I guess I just popularized it,” Reid says, adding that the phrase now serves as a powerful community-building tool.

“I grew up in a church where people didn’t speak to each other until after the service was over,” he says. “And then it was often things they probably shouldn’t have been saying.”

After COVID, Rebuilding Connection

Reid says the practice took on renewed meaning after the COVID-19 pandemic disrupted church gatherings.

“But COVID — when we couldn’t meet — and then the fear when we resumed meeting made it necessary to bring people together again,” Reid says.

“And now we can go from saying something to your neighbor to praying for your neighbor.”

For some congregations, the simple act of speaking to the person sitting nearby became a way to rebuild the sense of community many churches lost during months of isolation.

Social Media Has Thoughts

An informal and decidedly unscientific social media survey produced mixed reactions.

Some worshippers say they find the practice distracting.

“‘Tell your neighbor’ is a passive-aggressive reply to sleeping in church,” Charlene Ndi joked.

Lynn Taylor was more direct.

“It’s — for lack of a better word — irky,” Taylor says. “I like talking to people, but when I want to hear the Word, I don’t want to turn to anyone. Preach the gospel. Stop with the theatrics and just preach.”

Others say they simply opt out.

Lenora Howze admitted that refusing to participate might eventually cost her church membership.

“Well, I might do it the first time,” she says. “But after that, I won’t even look at my neighbor, let alone tell them anything.”

She recalled a meme circulating online that captured her feelings: Why do I have to tell my neighbor anything? They heard you just like I did.

Out of 10 people who responded to the survey, five said they typically do not participate at all.

“I don’t mind it once,” Jaye Matthews says. “But don’t keep telling me to tell them something all sermon long. It’s the preacher’s job to do that.”

Mylika Richardson Scatliffe says repeated prompts feel “distracting and awkward, especially when it goes on for more than one sentence.”

Others see it differently.

Sherri Brown Jackson says when she preaches she sometimes avoids the neighbor exchange altogether.

“I may say, ‘Point to your own self,’” she sats.

Travis J. Robertson sees the tradition as deeply rooted in Christian fellowship.

“It’s about community,” he says. “The early church was all about fellowship and neighbors.”

Robertson pointed to Acts 2:44-47, which describes early Christians sharing life and resources with one another.

“We are supposed to love thy neighbor,” he says.

A Tool for Community Building

Despite the mixed reactions, many pastors say the practice has evolved into a powerful tool for building community.

For newcomers in particular, it can break the ice in congregations where people may sit beside each other for months without ever speaking.

“It reinforces memory,” says Teresa L. Fry Brown, professor of homiletics at Candler School of Theology at Emory University.

“When worshippers speak the message aloud, it moves from hearing to internalizing.”

What once seemed gimmicky to some has, for others, become another way Black churches nurture connection, conversation, and collective worship.