The performance aspect is what separates gospel from other genres of Christian music, in the same way that the performance aspect is what makes the delivery of a T.D. Jakes different from a Joel Osteen, to name a couple people. Ultimately the focus should be on the content, but in the same way that good preaching requires certain rhetorical flourishes and oratory techniques in a way that simply ministering the word does not (and this ain’t an endorsement of either one of the people whose names I mentioned. They’re just well known enough to illustrate the stylistic differences), really doing Gospel requires more than the ability to sing; you gotta be able to SANG. Therein lies a problem, however. At some point, the sangin simply becomes a performance, rather than a means of worshiping the Lord. Which is my line of demarcation between capital-G Gospel and lowercase. Capital G is music within the gospel genre with its focus on uplift, edification, praise, and/or worship. Lowercase is gospel genre that it primarily to be taken as a piece of performance art. The hard question is, how to tell the difference.
Really, I don’t think there’s a definite answer that a person outside the performer can give. There’s no hard-and-fast rule about when it’s capital and when it’s lowercase, although as it is with many things, you know it when you see it. For instance, I’ve been to a few concerts in my time. Having seen P-Funk, War, Mandrill, and some other funk groups (albeit not in their mid-70’s heyday), I can say without a doubt that the group that tore down their crowd the worst (best?) was the Mighty Clouds of Joy at Chicagofest one year, maybe 86 or 87. They killed it. Nah. They KILT it. To this day, that’s the standard by which I evaluate concerts. Nobody has ever matched that. But one of the things I noticed way back then when I was a young’n was that even among the fans, who were all obviously having a good time, there were two different types: there were the people who were there to “have church,” as the Clouds kept imploring, and there were the people who were there to watch the Clouds have church, just like they had been there to watch the other performers.
Now the Mighty Clouds of Joy present an interesting case. They were at Chicagofest, clearly not a worship-type venue. But I don’t think that necessarily limits their intent, even though they were obviously working to get paid. Not necessarily, but possibly. Their frequent refrain of, “Let’s/we gon’/ I came to/ have church” in some ways suggests that, but at the same time, it can also suggest doing the performance of “having church” without being in that spiritual environment. That, I would argue, kinda invalidates the “churchiness” of it. To their credit, I think the Clouds did an altar call at the end of their show. Difference with the Clouds, and why I tend to give them the benefit of the doubt, is that they’ve been doing it for a long, long time and they never went secular. Even at Chicagofest, the only place you were gonna see them was on Gospel Night, on the Gospel stage.
Even then, though, I don’t wanna act like the venue is the determining factor. The truth is that many, many Black performers got their start in the church, performing gospel music. At some point, they may have been doing capital G, but I don’t know if you can go secular without first going small-g even within the context of a church service. I think the difference is the artist using his/her talents to glorify God vs. the artist using a song about God to glorify him/herself. Again, the question is, how can you tell the difference? At what point is it about being the moon, reflecting the light of the Son, and at what point is it about trying to be a star? I guess for me, when I see/hear certain stylings that seem to be too common, it makes me wonder. Like, the OOOOhhhh-ooooooooooouuuuuuuuOOHHHHOUUUUUOUOUOUOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOooooooooOOOOO. I don’t know about that one. It’s enjoyable to hear, but somehow, I don’t be thinkin that’s all about the Lord.
I mentioned last week that the Hammond B3 is the instrument that made me love music. This video is in the vein of the type of playing that hooked me, but not excactly. See, while it would be considered to be Gospel, I personally wouldn’t call it that, because there’s nothing explicitly “gospel” about it. See, if you really get into the science of it, gospel’s not really gospel because it has a gospel sound. Ray Charles, Little Richard, James Brown, and countless others interpolated a gospel sound into R&B. Similarly, the organist here is, I would say, playing gospel-sounding jazz. While I obviously can’t discern his intent, it seems to me to be more of a display of his virtuosity than musical praise. I could be wrong, but that’s what it sounds like to me. And when I pick this up again, that’s really the direction I’m gonna take in doing a more critical examination of what gospel is and has become as a genre.
All that aside, though, this is one of the most staggering displays of skillful church organing that I’ve ever seen (and heard) in life.
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And one other thing I think we’ve gotta remember. As easy as it is for those of us who are white, to look back and say “That’s a terrible statement!”…I grew up in a very segregated south. And I think that you have to cut some slack — and I’m gonna be probably the only Conservative in America who’s gonna say something like this, but I’m just tellin’ you — we’ve gotta cut some slack to people who grew up being called names, being told “you have to sit in the balcony when you go to the movie. You have to go to the back door to go into the restaurant. And you can’t sit out there with everyone else. There’s a separate waiting room in the doctor’s office. Here’s where you sit on the bus…” And you know what? Sometimes people do have a chip on their shoulder and resentment. And you have to just say, I probably would too. I probably would too. In fact, I may have had more of a chip on my shoulder had it been me.
He gets it. While I may have my theological and philosophical beefs with liberation theology and some of its logical progeny, I know that in most cases, it ain’t wrong, even if it ain’t right. Considering that American racism is antecedent in the development of liberation theology in the first place, and especially considering the tepid-at-best response of the Evangelical community during the Civil Rights movement, I’m not exactly sure why some people are acting like they can’t figure where Reverend Wright is coming from. And I’m sayin’ – I don’t even necessarily agree with him all that tough, but what he said didn’t come completely out of NOWHERE. It’s just extrabiblical.
Liberation theology (LT) is prominent in the news this week due to unearthing of one of Rev. Jeremiah Wright’s sermons. Being that LT has long been one of my intellectual interests, I’m a little more familiar with it than somebody who’s hearing about it and getting all hyped up about the inflammatory aspects of Rev’s remarks. So let me be clear about this: while I think LT is, at least in part, a misnomer, since the former is emphasized at the expense of the latter, I don’t think it’s appropriate to junk the whole car. There are some very useful elements. After all, LT arose because of an improper application of the scripture. In a way, it’s like the natural response to state-sponsored (for lack of a better term) opression theology. Well, I’ll say it’s the natural in-kind response without defecting to another religion altogether. (Hello, NOI.)
Liberation theology’s chief weakness lies in its greatest strength: its focus on the oppressed. Specifically, I think LT goes beyond addressing the needs of the poor and actually casts God in the image of the oppressed. Hence the emphasis on the ethnographic and sociocultural aspects of Jesus’ incarnation at the expense of his deity.
Now understand, I don’t think any part of Jesus’ physical manifestation was random. God’s plan was (is) far too exacting and detailed for it to be any other way. Nevertheless, I think it’s possible to read too much into it. That is, because of our postmodern sensibilities and our emphasis on the census-type social address marker elements of a person’s identity, we have a tendency to act like those descriptions are definitions. But they’re not. They may help to enhance a definition, but, and this is a sofa, relying on descriptors as definition effectively takes the person out of the equation. What you have in that case, in essence, is a composite that should do a, b, and c, based on the fact that he has traits, x, y, and z. So while I don’t think it’s outta line to note the significance of Jesus having been incarnated into a certain flesh within a certain community at a certain place in a certain time, I don’t think it’s right to take those address markers as definitive. Primarily because inasmuch as he occupied a particular space, he also transcends that, so to limit him to that space, or even to act as if the community of the oppressed is his primary locus of activity, is reductive to the point of absurdity. Jesus didn’t just come for the materially poor, he came for the poor in spirit. While his goal had practical, material applications, it was always spiritual. Always. To miss that is to miss the Gospel itself.
(And as a side note, I can never seem to escape people who seem to think that Revelation 1:14 is about Jesus’ physical description. I saw a t-shirt with a picture that could’ve been JJ’s painting from the Black Jesus episode of Good Times, talkin about it was the description from Revelation. But if that’s supposed to be the case, where is the flaming sword and the candlesticks? Why does nobody who quotes that scripture as a physical description EVER wanna talk about those verses? They all go together. But naw. Can’t do that. Reading is fundamental.)
Liberation theology is ripe for critique on many levels, but first and foremost as a legitimate theology. Any time you have to interpret God through your lens as a [insert your brand(s)], then your god is an idol. God is way too big to be defined by our “otherness.” God is also way too big to be defined by our sameness. The point is not to understand God through the perspective of our own experiences, it’s to understand our experiences through the lens of God’s word.
On Friday, I had the opportunity to play the boards as our staff band did a rendition of Bustin Loose in honor of Chuck Brown. I ain’t gon’ lie, I was pretty nervous. Not that he woulda been all able to single me out and say something, but it’s just the point. Bustin Loose is definitely in my 50 favorites, so I would’ve wanted to do it justice if it had just been the students in the audience, but with HIM there? Pssshhhh. But I wasn’t really tryin to crush it, I just wanted to be easy and play my role.
Expanding a little bit, what this really makes me think of is this: I was seriously pressed because the author/composer of a song I really like was there when I played that song, yet it’s sometimes hard to keep that same kind of focus when it comes time to realize that God, the creator of everything, is always there. Hm.
I stay watchin The Ten Commandments. Especially the 2nd DVD, which is when all the good action takes place, but I like the first DVD too. The best thing about having the DVDs is that I don’t hafta wait until April to see it.
Anyway, a couple thoughts come to mind every single time I watch:
1. It’s a good thing I wasn’t Moses. I like to think I would’ve stood by my people and all that, but to give up being Pharoah to become a slave? Maaannnn….iono. Not to mention having to deal with that dude, Dathan all the time? Uh-uh. That staff would’a split his lip before it split the Red Sea.
2. That scene with the parting of the Red Sea? For its time, that had to be THE BADDEST special effects job of all time. I still think it’s in the top 10, even with all our advanced technology.
3. With all the movie remakes, this is one that should be done with Black folks as the main characters. Even though I have my questions about the historical veracity of Africentricity, I’d go see that 10 Commandments at least 3 times. Especially if it was big-budget enough to really make the parting of the Red Sea look decent.
I stay watchin The Ten Commandments. Especially the 2nd DVD, which is when all the good action takes place, but I like the first DVD too. The best thing about having the DVDs is that I don’t hafta wait until April to see it.