Due to the fragility of the American cultural psyche it seems we have limited ability when confronted with issues of human suffering. Much of this could be connected to the church and its refusal to acknowledge its own history of oppressive behavior.
When the American church endeavors to find her voice pertaining to oppression of any kind she is confronted with the truths surrounding her conspicuous silence on issues concerning the disenfranchised in the past. This usually forces the church into a position where she is fending off questions, which attack the epicenter of her motives and intentions. All of this is indeed difficult but certainly not an excuse, which exempts her from entering in.
For example, how can the church speak out against the suicide bombings in Israel while refusing to speak against the daily terror perpetrated upon the Palestinians by the Israeli armed forces? How can we highlight the suffering in Serbia while neglecting to ever mention The Sudan, or Rwanda? How do we explain our years of silence concerning apartheid in South Africa? This is without mentioning the years of suffering in Latin America, Haiti, and Asia.
Understanding and listing our process of inoculation is one of our favorite past times. The question we have grown extremely adapted at dodging is “Why can’t we consider pain?” This problem is not relegated to a certain sector of our Christian society, meaning this is not simply a “White” problem. The African American and Latino church in the opinion of some, are actually at the forefront of silence, choosing rather to preach the godly pursuit of the American dream. They try desperately, as a diversionary tactic, to convince us that poverty is the indicator of sin in the lives of the oppressed.
Some light might be shed on “the why” as we consider our cultural inability to embrace personal pain without attempting to invert it for the purpose of an Evangelistic commodity. An extremely lucent example would be the reaction of the American Evangelical Church in the after effects of September 11. The now retired Rev. Dr. James Forbes of Riverside Church called the reactions from the Christian community towards people of Arab decent ”Pornographic Patriotism”. Others have referred to it as “Evangelical Nationalism”.
Because the American Evangelical community is in possession of an Imperial theological viewpoint, there was small belief that an attack of that magnitude could ever be perpetrated on American soil. Our belief emanated from our views that we are God’s chosen people called to evangelize the world, within God’s chosen country, which we believed to be endowed with a certain amount of Heavenly protection.
This viewpoint disallowed the opportunity to genuinely reflect on the magnitude of human suffering, which was taking place for those who lost family members, friends, colleagues, and spouses. We also were not able to sympathize with those undocumented workers who were now without the low paying jobs they attempted to support their families with.
What we were extremely adept at doing was assigning blame on a people group and their countries, moving towards them as an inspired angry mob. America went forward, believing that God had called us to “crusade” towards justice and the annihilation of those whom served “other gods”.
Using religious rhetoric as a cover for our brazen pain and outrageous racism, we sang obstinately for God to bless America at every church gathering. Knowing that are hearts were actually asking for God to curse Islamic Nations while in the process of blessing “our great and godly nation”.
Our Evangelical Nationalism was so prevalent that some actually preached from our pulpits that Bin Laden was beyond the reconciling grace of the Holy Spirit. All of our prayers concerning the innocent people in Afghanistan seemed to come across a forced and hollow while we remained eerily silent as countless numbers of Islamic peoples were imprisoned and tortured by our God-fearing government officials. We simply could not deal with our own immense pain so we defaulted to religiously finding fault with our Islamic brothers of Arabic decent.
“God whispers in our pleasures, speaks in our consciences but shouts in our pains … it is His megaphone to rouse a deaf world”
C. S. Lewis – The Problem of Pain
Apr 14, 2008
Apr 4, 2008
sonic transitions
I love music … I know we all love music but I love it in an – its almost hard to find a song that’s not my jam – kind of way. One of the things I love about music is that it has the ability to transport you from where you are to where you were in life when a particular song comes on. What you were doing, how you were living, what you wanted, what that song represented at that time … all of it at the same time. The song is so rich and fresh, transcendent and melodic, that it’s even able to withstand being butchered by our less than perfect renditions each time. Amazing!
Or how about the anthem song? The one that always seems to come on when you are looking for that mystic conformation, its becomes your soul’s warrior cry even after all the radio stations and video shows have played it out. It always will always have that special space in you.
I’m also one of those types of people whose favorite cuts are the album cuts, the ones that never get the light of day in radio play. Even though that is changing with artist taking more control, going independent, and having more control over the selection of their single but that’s not the point right now. I’m feeling nostalgic.
Though tempting, I won’t use Hip Hop as an example because it’s only since the early to mid 90’s that Hip Hop has made its rush to where its everywhere. I’m old enough to remember when we had to wait for Kiss and BLS to bring on Red Alert, Mr. Magic, and Chuck Chillout, (back when Funkmaster Flex was carrying crates for Chuck Chillout). Back then we were happy to get what we got on the radio and buy the tape – yes tape and I had mad tapes. I bought everything, there are some artist that should send me a letter of thanks because I was one of the 37, 212 that purchased the album. Like, Steezo or Paris … see?
And I can’t go old school because most of that was about making hit records. Though you will always have to make exception for artist like Ray Charles, Isaac Hayes, Barry White, Stevie Wonder, Al Green, Curtis Mayfield, and James Brown who twisted genre so much for so long until they created their own. And so I do not act like I’m living in a James Brown song because it is not a man’s world … Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Ruth Brown, Aretha Franklin, Gladys Knight, Tina Turner, and Patti LaBelle.
Anyway, lets use a song like “Spanish Joint” off of D’Angelo’s “Voodoo” CD … yes, CD. Or “Ready for love” by India.Arie, or anything by Goapele and Amel Larrieux, those types of songs never make the radio but you know the artist made it from a special place and it reaches you at a special place. I will not even bother to argue against the sheer aesthetic and lustful genius of the “How does it feel?” video as a first single choice by D’Angelo because that’s just business right there plus we really have yet to hear from him since. I hope all is well and he can get back to giving us that good soul music.
And music has mood shifting capabilities also, no really it does. Like when I’m on my – Hov, hustler, half a billie in the bank roll shit – or my – Kweli, Black Thought, Mos Def “Fake Bonanza” shit.
And that’s just the Hip Hop side of things. There are so many songs that have the ability to change my mood before the song is even finished.
I also am the kind of person who has lyrics from Rap joints constantly floating around in my thought stream, like …
“These cats drink champagne to toast death and pain, like slave on a ship talking about who got the flyest chain”– Talib Kweli
“I look into the eyes of the nigga, who fell, I hit my head on the concrete to beat defeat, ch-khaa! Another dead nigga in the streets, bulls eye direct hit don’t miss, now how many MC’s must get dissed” – Black Moon
“Hold up, call the coroner, there’s gonna be a lot of slow singing and flower bringing if my burglar alarm starts ringing” - Biggie
“Black fresh from Iraq, wild look in his eyes missing part of his arm, what the fuck is the prob, oh lord fake bonanza” – Mos Def
I’m the guy that knows all the words to all the songs in my iPod, every playlist has like 300 songs because I can never stay on course. So, no playlist has ever been heard to its completion but I cannot apologize because I love it. I can leave the TV off all day (after the Yankee highlights from the game I sat and watched the night before) and just listen to my iPod play all day long. There are some shows that will have K very confused because he’s going to think that when the characters speak to one another they sound like Nas, Sly Stone, or Jill Scott because I leave the shows on with the music playing.
Dialogue replaced by lyrics, you’d think I’d love musicals too but sadly enough no I don’t and there is not enough space to explain all of that. Ruthie and I have already started a playlist of all of our favorite songs, so they can all be played at the wedding party but when you have a reputation for creating playlist that can last 4.5 days some songs just might not make it.
Jus loves Kanye, so the cycle is starting all over again. What will Hip Hop give my boys?
I figure they have an advantage because when Hip Hop and I grew up together, she was always the friend that my parents didn’t trust me hanging out with. But for them they have a father who knows that Hip Hop is a grown woman, making her choices and working her way home.
Or how about the anthem song? The one that always seems to come on when you are looking for that mystic conformation, its becomes your soul’s warrior cry even after all the radio stations and video shows have played it out. It always will always have that special space in you.
I’m also one of those types of people whose favorite cuts are the album cuts, the ones that never get the light of day in radio play. Even though that is changing with artist taking more control, going independent, and having more control over the selection of their single but that’s not the point right now. I’m feeling nostalgic.
Though tempting, I won’t use Hip Hop as an example because it’s only since the early to mid 90’s that Hip Hop has made its rush to where its everywhere. I’m old enough to remember when we had to wait for Kiss and BLS to bring on Red Alert, Mr. Magic, and Chuck Chillout, (back when Funkmaster Flex was carrying crates for Chuck Chillout). Back then we were happy to get what we got on the radio and buy the tape – yes tape and I had mad tapes. I bought everything, there are some artist that should send me a letter of thanks because I was one of the 37, 212 that purchased the album. Like, Steezo or Paris … see?
And I can’t go old school because most of that was about making hit records. Though you will always have to make exception for artist like Ray Charles, Isaac Hayes, Barry White, Stevie Wonder, Al Green, Curtis Mayfield, and James Brown who twisted genre so much for so long until they created their own. And so I do not act like I’m living in a James Brown song because it is not a man’s world … Ella Fitzgerald, Billie Holiday, Ruth Brown, Aretha Franklin, Gladys Knight, Tina Turner, and Patti LaBelle.
Anyway, lets use a song like “Spanish Joint” off of D’Angelo’s “Voodoo” CD … yes, CD. Or “Ready for love” by India.Arie, or anything by Goapele and Amel Larrieux, those types of songs never make the radio but you know the artist made it from a special place and it reaches you at a special place. I will not even bother to argue against the sheer aesthetic and lustful genius of the “How does it feel?” video as a first single choice by D’Angelo because that’s just business right there plus we really have yet to hear from him since. I hope all is well and he can get back to giving us that good soul music.
And music has mood shifting capabilities also, no really it does. Like when I’m on my – Hov, hustler, half a billie in the bank roll shit – or my – Kweli, Black Thought, Mos Def “Fake Bonanza” shit.
And that’s just the Hip Hop side of things. There are so many songs that have the ability to change my mood before the song is even finished.
I also am the kind of person who has lyrics from Rap joints constantly floating around in my thought stream, like …
“These cats drink champagne to toast death and pain, like slave on a ship talking about who got the flyest chain”– Talib Kweli
“I look into the eyes of the nigga, who fell, I hit my head on the concrete to beat defeat, ch-khaa! Another dead nigga in the streets, bulls eye direct hit don’t miss, now how many MC’s must get dissed” – Black Moon
“Hold up, call the coroner, there’s gonna be a lot of slow singing and flower bringing if my burglar alarm starts ringing” - Biggie
“Black fresh from Iraq, wild look in his eyes missing part of his arm, what the fuck is the prob, oh lord fake bonanza” – Mos Def
I’m the guy that knows all the words to all the songs in my iPod, every playlist has like 300 songs because I can never stay on course. So, no playlist has ever been heard to its completion but I cannot apologize because I love it. I can leave the TV off all day (after the Yankee highlights from the game I sat and watched the night before) and just listen to my iPod play all day long. There are some shows that will have K very confused because he’s going to think that when the characters speak to one another they sound like Nas, Sly Stone, or Jill Scott because I leave the shows on with the music playing.
Dialogue replaced by lyrics, you’d think I’d love musicals too but sadly enough no I don’t and there is not enough space to explain all of that. Ruthie and I have already started a playlist of all of our favorite songs, so they can all be played at the wedding party but when you have a reputation for creating playlist that can last 4.5 days some songs just might not make it.
Jus loves Kanye, so the cycle is starting all over again. What will Hip Hop give my boys?
I figure they have an advantage because when Hip Hop and I grew up together, she was always the friend that my parents didn’t trust me hanging out with. But for them they have a father who knows that Hip Hop is a grown woman, making her choices and working her way home.
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