Interview with Bishop Paul S. Morton
by Monica Watkins
Before my interview with Bishop Paul S. Morton, Sr. officially got underway, I had a moment to step into the studio and watch him perform, Not Me Lord, You, a song from his post Hurricane Katrina project, appropriately titled Still Standing. There was no choir at this time, just the pastor and veteran singer, with an essence of healing draped upon his face as he closed his eyes tightly and sang as if he were alone in the presence of God. So as my time with him began, I asked a seemingly rhetorical question, “Is singing therapy for you?” Not surprisingly, his response was, “I love to sing. I believe everybody needs that way out, that way to get out of burdens and the pressures of life, and so that’s what singing does for me. It’s that escape into the very presence of God.” So, as it turns out my eyes were not deceiving me. He was, indeed, alone in the presence of God. Graciously, he stepped out of this sacred place to chat with me for a moment, and so from there, our interview began...
How is Still Standing different from your previous releases?
Well, Still Standing is important to me because it really came out of the Hurricane Katrina experience. When you lose everything, when you lose your church, you lose your house, you lose your automobiles, I mean members scattered into 32 states...there were people who were wondering, “How is he making it; how is he making it?” I felt the best way to really let people know that I was alright is to put it into a song – I’m still standing.
When I read your "Still Standing" bio, I was a little surprised to read that your dad sat you on a stool at the age of five and said, “My baby boy is going to sing now.” I was expecting the words to read “preach now”. You said you knew God was calling you to preach. Did you expect Him to call you to such a significant music ministry as well?
I really knew I was called to preach. I was trying to fight it of course. I started preaching at 16 years old, so you know it just was not cool to preach at 16 back then. It’s a little different now, but I knew that that’s what God wanted me to do, so I really had to. My father would stand me on the chair at five years old, so I always knew that I would sing, but a lot of preachers would say, 'well, either you gotta preach or you gotta sing; you can’t do both.' I didn’t believe that God gave me that gift to hide it. I said I was gonna use them both. Hey I’ll just break the mold. I want to do what God told me to do, so I enjoy both sides.
And you went back to New Orleans to record the project, correct?
Yes. I felt that was the best place to record Still Standing, because that’s where we went through it. We went through it together in the city of New Orleans, and they needed that uplift, that message of hope to let them know, “Look, God did it for me; He’s going to do it for all of you. If you’re having problems with FEMA, if you’re having problems with your insurance company, if you’ve lost loved ones, God is going to see you through. So, I thought it was just the right place to do that project.
How did it feel to be back in New Orleans?
Oh it was awesome! Just to see the excitement on the people’s faces, just to [hear them] say, “Hey thank you for doing this here.” So it had a great impact on me and on everybody who participated.
Do you feel like the legacy of Hurricane Katrina has left a lasting imprint that will continue to be heard in your music?
It will definitely have a lasting imprint on anything that I do, and probably especially in my music. I can always put what I’m trying to say and what I have experienced from that. You know it was the greatest devastation that America has ever experienced, so it stays in your mind. But you keep writing and you keep singing about songs of hope and giving people just that message of hope, because some people are still going through it. It’s not over yet, so I thank God that He reveals to me in songs what I can say to help them.
You have been recording music for over many, many years now. Has your music changed very much over the years?
My first producer was Thomas Whitfield. He was a man ahead of his time. He was so 21st century, so I think with his music I stayed in the flow as it relates to keeping music relevant, and that’s what I still endeavor to do in my music ministry. Whatever you do, you have to always be open to positive change. The message stays the same, and that’s the way it has been for me, but just relating to people and how you sing and how you do it, different beats, the different songs that you can sing, but always leading people to the answer. And the answer is Jesus. So the message is really the same.
Is your music ministry impacted by many of the up-and-coming artists today?
I just love so many of the new artists who are out there now. They really impact my life, and of course some of the old [artists] like Marvin Winans and CeCe; they have a great impact upon my life, but I’m proud of people like Deitrick Haddon. I’m proud of people like KiKi (Kierra “KiKi” Sheard). I know her mother, and now to watch her grow up; it’s a new generation of people. I appreciate my own son, PJ, who blows my mind with all that he does. I love this generation as it relates to their focus.
What is one of your most memorable music experiences from the past couple of decades in this industry?
There’re so many. The most memorable one, I guess, was in losing my grandbaby at 18 months old. On my last project I dedicated a song to her. It was like her speaking to me, and the song simply says, “If you could see me now, I’m walking streets of gold. If you could see me now, I’m standing tall and bold. If you could see me now you would know that I’ve seen His face, if you could only see me now.” That really encouraged me. It ministered to me, because I could hear her singing that to me, even though she was 18 months old, I saw her in her full spiritual maturity say, “Pa Pa, don’t worry about it. Hey, if you could only see me now.”
As a pastor, when it’s time to go into the recording studio, do you find that the same revelation you receive for your Sunday sermons transfers into the music you create?
It really does. You know I am just very, very sensitive to the voice of God. Anything that I do I want to be sensitive to His voice. What do You have to say to me so that I can say it or I can sing it, but I want it to be You, Lord. That song that I sing, Not Me Lord, You, I really want it to be Him in everything that I do, and I want people to see the very presence of God.
So there we were...The same place I found him when I began my brief encounter with Bishop Paul S. Morton, Sr., very fittingly, is where he was when our conversation came to a close, still standing in the presence of God.
