Patrick Dougher, Higher Power, acrylic and mixed media on canvas, 28 × 22 in.
’Mid the discordant noises of the day I hear thee calling;
I stumble as I fare along Earth’s way; keep me from falling.
Mine eyes are open but they cannot see for gloom of night:
I can no more than lift my heart to thee for inward light.
The wild and fiery passion of my youth consumes my soul;
In agony I turn to thee for truth and self-control.
For Passion and all the pleasures it can give will die the death;
But this of me eternally must live, thy borrowed breath.
’Mid the discordant noises of the day I hear thee calling;
I stumble as I fare along Earth’s way; keep me from falling.
This poem was originally published in Harlem Shadows (Harcourt Brace, 1922) and is in the public domain.
Claude McKay (1889–1948) was a Jamaican American poet and fiction writer who was a key figure in the Harlem Renaissance, his work ranging from celebrations of Jamaican life and culture to protests of racial and economic inequities in the United States. Born in Sunny Ville, Jamaica, to well-to-do farmers of Malagasy (from Madagascar) and Ashanti descent, he was raised in the Baptist faith and with an appreciation for literature, philosophy, science, and theology. He came to the US in 1912 to attend Tuskegee Institute and was shocked by the racism he experienced in his newly adopted country. He moved to New York City in 1914 and became involved in social causes on behalf of Blacks and laborers. From 1923 to 1934 he traveled through Europe and North Africa, eventually returning to Harlem and becoming an American citizen in 1940. He started associating with Catholic social activists and studying Catholic social theory, and in October 1944 he converted to Catholicism. He died of heart failure at age fifty-seven.
“Psalms in Dialogue: Psalms 22, 23, and 24,” presented by Duke University Chapel: This multidisciplinary video presentation brings together dancers, musicians, a theologian, a painter, and (other) members of the Duke community to draw out the meaning of, or respond to, these three sequential psalms through art, prayer, and conversation. The livestreamed event aired October 17 and will be available for viewing for a limited time. Several of the segments, which I’ve time-stamped below, are intercut with photos from the streets in 2020 (showing the impact of the pandemic and racial unrest), of artist Makoto Fujimura in his studio and of his three finished paintings, and of Ekklesia Contemporary Ballet dancers in training. I wish more university chapels and well-resourced churches would offer experiences like this! Thank you to my friend Peggy for telling me about it. Read more about Duke Chapel’s multiyear Psalms project here.
1:51: “How do we name the impossible mystery?,” a theological reflection by Morley Van Yperen
6:02: Organ: “Jésus accepte la souffrance,” from La Nativité du Seigneur [previously] by Olivier Messiaen, performed by Christopher Jacobson
10:58: Psalm 22 by Makoto Fujimura, 2020, oyster shell on Belgium canvas, 48 × 48 in.
49:45: Recitation of Psalm 24 by Julia Hendrickson
51:32: Conversation continued
1:11:49: “He’s Got the Whole World in His Hands,” African American spiritual arranged by Mark A. Miller, performed by the Duke Chapel Choir
+++
POEMS: This week’s edition ofImageUpdate includes two poems that I really appreciated. The first, which was new to me, is “America” by Claude McKay, a key figure in the Harlem Renaissance. Originally published in The Liberator in 1921, it expresses the pain of living in a country where you’re hated for your race and yet remains optimistic, beginning, “Although she feeds me bread of bitterness, / And sinks into my throat her tiger’s tooth, / Stealing my breath of life, I will confess / I love this cultured hell . . .” The second poem is “Making Peace” by Denise Levertov, one of the best-known Christian poets of the twentieth century. “The poets must give us / imagination of peace, to oust the intense, familiar / imagination of disaster,” she writes. Poets can help us feel our way toward shalom—give us a vision of its permeating the world that inspires us to live out its rhythms, its metaphors, its structure, its grammar, our lives like poems.
+++
MUSIC VIDEO: “We Americans” by the Avett Brothers: I’m so moved by this song from the Avett Brothers’ 2019 album Closer Than Together—its grappling with the historical legacy of the US, its greatness and its guilt, with a mixture of heartache, empathy, and hope. It’s one of the healthiest expressions of patriotism I’ve ever come across in a song. We need to see America as the complex entity that she is, which means in part not ignoring her flaws but with love exposing them so that they can be remediated and we can move forward together more faithful to her celebrated ideals. “We Americans” is both confession and supplication, an “I’m sorry, God” and “God, help us to do better.” The final chorus:
I am a son of God and man And I may never understand The good and evil But I dearly love this land Because of and in spite of We the People We are more than the sum of our parts All these broken bones and broken hearts God, will you keep us wherever we go? Can you forgive us for where we’ve been? We Americans
A post shared by Drew Miller (@drewmillersongs) on
*
“Bring Your Peace” by the Walking Roots Band: This song was written this year by Seth Thomas Crissman and Greg J. Yoder of the Walking Roots Band as part of a collection of fifteen songs for Shine, a children’s Sunday school curriculum published by MennoMedia and Brethren Press. It appears on Everybody Sing: Worship Songs for Children, released in June as a double album with Everybody Sing: Songs for the Seasons (which comprises ten original songs by The Many). The song asks God to bring his peace into our fears and into the storms we face, and to make us instruments of that peace to others.
*
“Rest Assured,” sung by the Walking Roots Band: TWRB learned this song from a bandmate’s parent (original authorship unknown) and recorded it a cappella in their separate locations at the start of quarantine in March. The chorus goes,
Rest assured, He’s not forgotten Rest assured, He’ll take care of you Look at the times He’s been there before He’ll be there again, rest assured
*
“Let Justice Roll Like a River,” sung by Eric Lige: Bobby Gilles and Rebecca Elliott of Sojourn Music wrote this song in 2017, inspired by Amos 5. In this lyric video from July 5, it’s performed by EricLige and Paul Lee of Ethnos Community Church. The singing starts at 1:33. [HT: Global Christian Worship]
Art & Theology 