I have been teaching the
foundational course in Christian worship at my school, North Park Theological
Seminary, for the last two years. Since
this is a new course for me I have been doing a good deal of reading, observing
and reflecting on this most important aspect of Christian faith. By far the most provocative book I have read
is Gerardo Marti’s Worship Across the
Racial Divide. Marti is a
sociologist and did extensive research on worship in multiracial congregations. The results of his research surprised even
him. He found that “successful”
multiracial congregations were not characterized by a particular approach to
music and worship but by a variety of musical and liturgical styles. The real
key to their success was not liturgy, music or preaching, but the quality of
cross racial relationships formed within the congregation. “The diversification of churches” he writes, “is
not about racially accommodating distinct music styles or enacting simplistic
notions of leadership intentionality, but rather about stimulating cross-racial
interactions through musical worship practices.” It’s the relationships of the
people that sing, not the nature of their song that determines the cohesion of
the community.
The most disturbing and challenging chapter
for me was entitled “African Americans as the Icon of ‘True Worship’”. He observed in his interviews that white,
Asian, and African American worship leaders as well as ordinary worshippers
assumed that African Americans had a special talent for worship. In fact, African American worship was
considered the “gold standard” of Christian worship for many. “A white female choir member said, ‘Black
people are very spiritual. They are more spiritual that we are.’ Another white
female choir member said, ‘They [blacks] seem closer to God.” (54) Such
opinions were expressed by both African American and white worshippers in the
churches Marti visited. The clapping,
swaying, and shouting characteristic of worship in many African American
churches was seen as indicating a greater connection with God and a deeper
capacity for worship. For Marti the
problem with this is that it was often expressed in old “essentialist”
terms. He cites a 19th
century writer who argued that “Africans contribute positively to the mixture
of races in prosperous metropolitan centers by offering Dionysian gifts such as
passion, dance, music, rhythm, lightheartedness and sensuality. Whites, for their part, contribute energy,
action, perseverance, rationality and technical aptitude: the Apollonian gifts.”
(58) The obvious racism of such observations
should give us pause. Describing African
American worship in essentialist terms actually robs it of its power and
integrity. African American worship is
powerful, not because African Americans have an inherent talent for worship
(any more than Asians are better at math or whites at organization), but because
it is rooted in a particular culture. In the United States it is a culture of suffering,
endurance and victory. According to Pearl
Williams-Jones gospel music “performance and practice provides ongoing
opportunity to incarnate ‘a clearly defined black identity growing out of black
experience,’ which Williams-Jones states ‘is indicative of the indomitability
of the African ethos.” (65) It actually
trivializes African American worship to declare that its power is derived from
an inherent black ability to worship.
There is a reason “We Shall Overcome” sounds more authentic being song
by a black gospel choir than a white choir—and it has nothing to do with
essentialist categories. The glory of
African American worship is rooted in the power of suffering, survival, grace
and deliverance. It speaks of liberation
for the oppressed and perhaps even the hope of liberation for the oppressors. It is the black experience, not the black “essence”
that gives African American worship its obvious power and profundity. This worship is a gift to the whole church
born out of the crucible of suffering.
In the end, the suffering is not celebrated, but transcended by confidence
in the God who delivers, judges and sets things right.
John E.
Phelan, Jr.
