Reminds me of a story of a neighborhood where I lived.
My best friend/and his wife's next store neighbor was an old African American Baptist preacher. Completely good neighbor, cool dude, and a genuine great guy. He'd have large festive parties, where, at the end of the evening, it was tradition for all the guest to smash the plates (real porcelain plates, not disposable) against the outside brick fireplace after good homefried eating. Fun times for all.
Other than being thoroughly convinced that my friend's wife and I were having an affair (we weren't), I remember one night after some drinking and plate smashing, there was some frisky dancing. They were all "doin' the butt" and such, including the preacher and his wife (they were pretty wild-instigating all this). When my friend's wife jokingly did some poledancing with the yard's flagpole, the preacher burst out laughing- "Honey, there ain't no poles in heaven"
I still laugh 20 years later. Good times.