There they were, Haitians singing, dancing and drumming what CNN Guy called “religious songs” as they patiently waited for basic necessities. Here I was, safe inside my home, wanting to sing and pray along with these people that I didn’t know.
“Let’s just share this moment with you,” said CNN Guy. “No panic, no fights, no security breaches, just people praying.”
But instead of sharing the moment, CNN Guy kept his commentary going as ordinary Haitians, in the midst of devastation and death sang, danced and drummed.
Shut up, CNN Guy. Let the people sing.
Okay, I love the music. I wanted the chance to learn a new song to sing and pray along with these people I didn’t know. Safe inside my home, it was something I could do.
Faced with disaster, our singing tends to come in two forms. Right away, let me say “Amen” to both of them. Both are necessary and valid; neither is purer or more hallowed by scripture or tradition than the other. One is more commonly chosen by Presbyterians, and perhaps all church people. But the other is powerful too. It springs from an attitude or a strategy as much as from a piece of music.
The first is illustrated by Carolyn Winfrey Gillette’s excellent hymn In Haiti, There is Anguish. Her lyrics are to be sung to the music of the hymn Beneath the Cross of Jesus. If you haven’t already seen them, they’re available here, where you can also hear it performed by her home choir at Limestone Presbyterian in Wilmington, Delaware.
The second occurs when a church learns the song of another culture and makes it part of its regular worship. The song Siyahamba is perhaps the most famous recent example. We use a similar strategy when, rather than sending our missionaries to “reform” another culture, we enter into partnerships with its people, both receiving and offering gifts and ministries. We use it in our hymn-singing when we learn another person’s song, and respectfully make it our own.
Singing another person’s song, learning their sounds, rhythms and movements is like walking in their shoes, eating their food, or reading their literature.
I illustrate by offering this Haitian melody, Feuilles O. Like Gillette’s hymn, Feuilles O (Kyrie) has now been sung in many services of prayer and worship.
It has haunted me for years. It’s a traditional song with many variations in both music and lyrics. In one version, a woman prays for healing for her child and hopes that the healer is a good one. I arranged it for voices and set the words of the Kyrie to it, along with other words of prayer: “Sauvez-moi la vie, Jésus, je vous prie!”
Please use it as we sing and pray with the people of Haiti.
