Gospel Songs That Are Actually Love Songs to Your Besties
Hello Friends!
In the last reflection, we explored secular songs that feel like gospel songs. This go ‘round, we’re gonna be reversing the question. What are the gospel songs that could be heard and valued in a secular setting?
I hope this mini-series has made one thing clear— the lines between sacred and secular are blurred. Perhaps it is unfair to imagine that there can be categories called “sacred” and “secular.” Or that something as rigid as a line might be the best way to divide those things. Maybe a jump rope might be better. It moves and is flexible. And if we get tired of making distinctions, we can sing some of the childhood jump rope chants we knew back in the day.
Strawberry shortcake, cream on top…
Here’s a list of songs that you’re likely to hear in church that have uses beyond Sunday morning worship. I think gospel music is only good if it is useful beyond those hours, but that’s a story for another day.
image from: http://fiskjubileesingers.org/about-the-singers/our-history/
Soon-Ah Will Be Done, Fisk Jubilee Singers
The Song When You Quit The Job That Had You ALL the Way Messed Up
“Soon Ah will be done-a with the troubles of the world...
Goin' home to live with God
No more weepin' and a wailin'....
I'm goin' to live with God.”
Companion Text: Romans 8:18
“I consider that the sufferings of this present time are not worth comparing with the glory about to be revealed to us.”
The Fisk Jubilee Singers. That’s it, that’s the point. A historic group of sangers. Black History 365. This a cappella ensemble is composed of Fisk University students and was started in 1871. Initially, they formed to raise funds for the college. Historically Black Colleges and Universities were structurally underfunded, and so our people did what we do. They began to host concert tours and charged an admission fee. Their sound was distinct, and yet familiar. New, and yet known. Complex, and yet easy to grab.
This particular song reminds me that whatever suffering we endure today is not right, valid, or God-ordained. There is no good godly reason for oppression. Suffering is not a level on Mario Kart you have to master before you get a reward of justice. I do not *need* to sacrifice myself at the cross of sexist, racist, homophobic, elitist institutions just to prove that I am worthy of having my needs met. Leaving a space that is unfulfilling does not make me an entitled millennial, nor does it mean I lack sticktoitiveness. It means that I value myself, that I dream more for myself, and that if I had accepted the pickle juice, I would be eating pickle juice.
Suffering sucks. It sucks because it really doesn’t have to be this way. But I am clear that what helps me make it through my depressive episodes (brought on by capitalism and the hamster wheel of hustling) is knowing that it will not always be like this. And while we cannot #LoveAndLight our way out of the rewiring PTSD does on our brain, I do get to console myself and speak life over myself. Part of that includes imagining that this current nonsense will not feel like it does today, that the heartbreak will someday become easier to manage, that our disappointment with institutions will someday become a well of experience from which we can draw, that the Powers will be defeated and that their statues will be toppled and their descendants will surrender the money they’ve inherited.
It’s not always going to be like this, soon-ah will be done with the troubles of THIS world.
thank you, next.
Fun fact: My mama sang with them while she was a student. Therefore, that’s why this song goes first.
Honorable Mention: Encourage Yourself, Donald Lawrence and Tri-City Singers
image: YouTube
Having You There, Mississippi Mass Choir
The Song for Your Best Friend
“When the storms of life are raging
And the billows are tossing high
You give me strength and courage
Because You were standing by
Having You there made the difference”
Companion Text: Proverbs 17:17
“A friend loves at all times, and kinsfolk are born to share adversity.”
Over the summer, my oldest best friend and I were walking to the store to buy ingredients for a cake. On the way back from our trip, out of nowhere, we started singing “Having You There.” She doesn’t know this, but as we sang it together (complete with ad-libs, because the soul of a song resides in the ad-libs) I teared up a little bit. Her love has been rich, full, forgiving. Her love remembers the great times and holds me accountable to the things I should have done better. And while I’d never say that I “praise and magnify” her, having her there made the difference.
In fact, I sometimes feel that the only way I’ve experienced God is through the love of friends. Every time I have felt seen by God, it has been because some human has extended grace or kindness to me. Friends put flesh on God’s promises. I feel God in homemade tacos, in “girl I’m coming over, hush, I don’t care if your bras are all over the place,” in Beychella watch parties and at Karaoke parties.
Friends make the difference. A friend loves us by practicing care, concern, tenderness. A friend also loves us by saying, “now sis, you KNOW you were wrong.” Ask me how I know.
Fun Fact: This song’s bass line is DEEEEVINEE.
And that cake was delicious.
Image: YouTube
The Song You Sing After You Lose a Loved One
“For there are angels
watching you to keep you in all of your ways,
keeping you from stumbling,
so don't be afraid.”
Companion Text: Hebrews 12:1
“Therefore, since we are surrounded by so great a cloud of witnesses, let us also lay aside every weight and the sin that clings so closely, and let us run with perseverance the race that is set before us…”
I lost someone who was more than a friend to me. She was an elder, a guide, a cheerleader, a partner in the struggle and deeply invested in our joy. Doris Barry was the People’s Auntie. As I would get discouraged in seminary, she would work some sort of magic to encourage me with a word and a coin. Early in the morning, she would go on Facebook and bring positivity to that (often) God-forsaken space.
I find myself talking to her, even still today. When I leave the house and my hair is still wet from the incomplete twist out, I feel her side eye.
“Candace, you’re going to get sick leaving the house with your hair wet.”
“I know, Aunt Doris. But it’s not dry yet and I have to go!”
And then days later, in my mailbox, a hat would appear with a note, “stop leaving the house with your hair wet. Or at least put this hat on. Love you, sweetness!”
The gift of Aunt Doris is that she didn’t have favorites. I later learned that she was doing this kind of one-to-one ministry with so many people. Her trademark was confetti. So any time you got mail from her, you had to open it very carefully because out would pop festive confetti. I still am finding bits and pieces of her confetti in my apartment. Every time I see a remnants in my purse or in the corner of a room, I’m reminded that she’s still here, she’s still a big part of my life, and she’s still playing tricks on me.
I am also convinced she hid a necklace that she gave me, and then made it show up when I needed the reminder. It has a lot of sentimental value as it represents our shared sorority.
Image: Genius.xcom
The Song You Replay On The Visit To See Loved Ones
“Like a thief in the night He shall return for me
That's the day that He'll come and fly away
You'll see
Jesus will welcome me home”
Companion Text: Luke 23:42-43
“Then he said, ‘Jesus, remember me when you come into your kingdom.’ He replied, ‘Truly I tell you, today you will be with me in Paradise.’”
John P. Kee starts the song saying, “I know this is a big city, but I want you to clap your hands like you’re from North Carolina…” He’s reminding everyone in the room who came to worship that we are a people with a history, even though we have a strained relationship to the word “Home.” Everyone gathered is supposed to know what he means— feel free to worship in whatever way feels natural to you. Don’t feel stifled.
Not even gonna lie, a big part of this song’s power isn’t in the lyrics. It’s in the instrumentation. You can hear levels and layers of music (and therefore, musicians) making a joyful noise. Sometimes I replay this song over and over, listening to one instrument at a time.
I imagine that if the great conductors like Harriet Tubman could have had access to our music today, they may have listened to this. Like thieves in the night, our people would return and make multiple trips to chaperone enslaved Black folks to freedom. We flew away, because of course, the people could fly. It is said that on her deathbed, she told loved ones “I go to prepare a place for you,” a reference to a promise Jesus made.
The Song When You’re Setting/Revisiting A Covenant at the Organizing Meeting
“What troubles have we seen,
what mighty conflicts past,
fightings without, and fears within,
since we assembled last!
And are we yet alive!”
Companion Text: Psalm 133:1
“How very good and pleasant it is when kindred live together in unity!”
Imagine you’re organizing a fish fry. You have to figure out who will cook, who will set up the tables, who will work on advertising, who will be responsible for the money and making change, who will be responsible for cleanup, who will buy the fish, who will season the fish, who will be expected to host and welcome people. All of these responsibilities are different. They require different skill sets. And because we live in the world we live in, people will compete for recognition and appreciation. If one person’s face is on the fish fry flyer, but it took 19 other people to produce the event, you can imagine how resentment may build. You can imagine, if we didn’t all have shared understanding of how we would treat one another, the event could get messy. If we don’t begin with expectations and develop a method of returning to those expectations when we inevitably fall off, an innocent fish fry can turn into, “and that’s why we don’t talk to Sister Banks because she moved my potato salad onto the other table, she always has an attitude, and that was the last straw.”
Now imagine that you’re not organizing a fish fry. Imagine you’re organizing an action. Or starting a new school. Or opening a community center. Or political party. The opportunity for disagreement, argument, debate and conflict is even that much more possible. And though many people hate coming back to or setting community agreements, these shared principles are necessary for creating a healthy machine. When we have a living document that guides our behaviors and serves as a grounding text, we are more likely to hold each other accountable. At our church, we recite the Church Covenant on First Sundays before Communion. When my peers and I host teach-ins, we begin with a covenant. When we are not experiencing active conflict, we may wonder why we’re saying these words. It may even feel like a waste of time.
Until, someone violates something in the covenant and talks too much during the session. Then we say, “let us be mindful of our covenant.” Or, “in honoring our covenant, why don’t we hear from someone who has not yet shared?” Covenants and expectations don’t prevent conflict, but they certainly help us manage those conflicts as they manifest.
The truth is, wherever two or more are gathered, conflict will arise. I’ve heard a facilitator say, “even if there’s just one person gathered, there’s potential for conflict because we even disagree within ourselves.” We will disagree. We will meet trouble, conflicts and fears. But living just one more day means we get to engage in principled struggle.
Fun Fact: Principled Struggle does not mean posting some incendiary, triflin’, badly written article and saying, “thoughts????” Principled Struggle is about having tough and good faith conversations with people in our world. For more about what that looks like on my side of town, listen to this sermon. Them prepositions! YET! And are we YET alive!
Fun Fact Part Two: Listen to this song, then listen to Blackstreet’s “Don’t Leave Me.” Tell me you don’t feel the same parts of your spirit vibrating and rejoicing? This is something my dad taught/teaches me. He would sing lyrics from one song on top of another to show that the music we think is unique can easily be mapped over another. That’s different from an explicit sample. Sometimes music just hits the same part of your eshandalo.