
I don’t do talk radio, period. So my wife tells me that I've missed out on a great opportunity in the past week to become annoyed with the flood of callers expressing shock and outrage that Barack Obama has remained in a church where his pastor occasionally preached bitter denunciations against racial oppression in America.
While this is not a political blog per se (i.e. we don’t endorse – or denounce – candidates), the blend of religion, race, and social change in this conversation is right in the center of our sights.
I’m not writing this post to explain, much less justify, Jeremiah Wright’s more controversial sermons. Rev. Wright isn’t looking for my help, after all. And truthfully many of his words deeply offended my own patriotic sensibilities as I watched him deliver them on YouTube.
But I have had a thought over the last couple of days that might provide at least one small window into the tradition from which Rev. Wright speaks. White Christians, like me, need many such windows at this time to help shed light on that which, through ignorance, we do not understand.
I’m no expert on the African-American church tradition. But I’ve spent close to 20 years living, serving, and worshipping in a mostly non-white community, and my family worships in an African-American church in our neighborhood. So I’ve at least had to do some thinking on this issue. And Rev. Wright’s sentiments weren’t completely novel for me.
In his book, “A Change is Gonna Come: Music, Race, and the Soul of America,” Craig Werner suggests that African-American music, which has dominated the shape of almost all popular music in the western world for the last 60 years, is a combination of three great “impulses” or ingredients: The gospel impulse is a relentlessly hopeful strain in Black music, which points toward a brighter day to come, no matter how dark the night we are in; the blues impulse is a relentlessly honest form, which names evil in the most visceral ways. In the blues, this world can be a wicked, sinful place. But the line between good and evil runs right through the middle of the human heart – both the hearts of the performer, of his listeners, and of those who done him wrong; Werner’s final ingredient in Black music is the jazz impulse, a relentlessly creative approach to music that, in the words of the immortal Louis Armstrong, is “never played the same way once.” (For a series of thoughtful reflections on jazz music and Christian spirituality, see the Jazz Theologian.)

So, what do these musical categories have to do with Jeremiah Wright or Barack Obama? What many of us white folks don’t understand or appreciate is that in addition to being both shepherd and theological professor, the Black preacher’s approach to his/her mission is not unlike that of a jazz performer – relentlessly creative, provocative, extemporaneous, playing best when he/she is right on the razor’s edge of playing horribly. Like a jazz musician, the “jazz preacher” draws upon the places of pain located deep within the soul. In the middle of an otherwise uneventful song she feels a riff, and has the courage to go ahead and try it, right there in front of the audience, without the safety net of having each line carefully calculated or practiced. Sometimes it stinks, and she learns something. Sometimes it’s great, and it makes you want to holler or weep, even though you don’t really know why. Either way, she probably won’t play that same riff again in precisely the same way, because now… it’s been done.
I suspect that Rev. Wright (whose defenders insist is primarily known for voicing the gospel impulse – little “g” and big “G”) is one such jazz preacher. His comments on YouTube struck me as being a “riff,” a performance experiment, bubbling up from the collective pain in the souls of his congregation. For me, there were way too many “flatted 5ths” (the “blue note” that expresses pain) in his music. I thought it was ugly; I winced, rather than wept. But for a bunch of folks in his church, those flatted 5ths matched their experience, and brought them to their feet.

While we’re on the subject of music parallels, perhaps Rev. Wright is also a “blues artist.” Like Jeremiah of the Old Testament, he’s naming evil in ways that his audience feels deep in their bones. As with every blues artist, the wickedness he names is partly “out there” (them) and partly “in here” (me). But we’ll never shake it if we can’t name it! And when we do name it, it’s gonna hurt!
For many African-American preachers, particularly those of the Civil Rights generation, this combination of gospel, jazz and blues flows out of a social-prophetic tradition with deep roots in a long, long battle against social injustice. Middle-American Whites like myself have so little exposure to this prophetic tradition (a few lines from “I Have a Dream” and that’s about it). So part of what we have dealt with this week is some shock over seeing for the first time a rather extreme example, pulled way out of context, of a tradition that has nurtured a people to combat injustice for many generations.

I’ll say it again: I felt offended and repulsed by some of the words I heard from Jeremiah Wright say on YouTube this week. For a moment, I could identify with ancient Israelites who hated the prophet Jeremiah whose love for country caused him to “preach the blues” in his day. Like Barack Obama (a gospel-impulse virtuoso, if ever there was one), I just plain don’t agree with much about Wright’s interpretation of America’s present or future.
But I’m willing to keep looking for windows to shed light, and to help me understand. I’m willing to train my ear to appreciate this combination of gospel, jazz and blues for its own beauty and impact.
And I’m sure not planning to hold it against Senator Obama for being able to appreciate the music made by a pastor-artist who has loved him so well for so long.

Jeff Johnsen
directs Mile High Ministries
listens to Miles and John Lee
looks (and sings) more like Willie Nelson


Comments (8)
If our nation could only hear the complex, contrasts in harmony of jazz - If we somehow found the time to thus develop our ears - what could not fathom, what could not not begin to heal.
Thanks Jeff. Love Ya.
Tim
Posted by Tim Merrill | March 24, 2008 3:18 PM
Posted on March 24, 2008 15:18
Dear Jeff,
You offer the most brilliant and unique explaination to Rev. White's condemnation of American that I have yet to read. I really want to understand. I have a question. Why are there nationally known black pastors who have taken a stand against liberation theology and find Rev. Wright's statements offensive? This is confusing to me as a person who is trying to view this debate through the eyes of grace rather than anger.
Mom Rose
Posted by Mom Rose | March 26, 2008 6:02 AM
Posted on March 26, 2008 06:02
Thanks for your post, Mom Rose. I really appreciate the way you engage the issues raised on this site. I had to chuckle at your first line, because I couldn't tell if you were complimenting or chastizing me! I suppose both, huh? As to your question, aren't there always nationally-known speakers who line up on different sides of issues, especially issues that are emotionally and politically intense? Doesn't a provocative voice always give rise to intense opposition?
But remember, Mom Rose, I said several times in my post that I was not trying to justify or defend Rev. Wright. Only to help white folks like me get some handles with which to understand this tradition, to which we've had very little exposure.
Quick story: a few years ago I realized that I had been called to live and serve in a social ennvironment where many of my neighborbors lived by the "social language" of hip-hop. That created a problem for me, because I hated the culture of the very people I was called to love. Almost everything about hip-hop repulsed me. God convicted me on this, as I recognized the barrier it created between me and so many of my friends. So I resolved to go on a journey, and learn as much as I could about hip-hop. I listened to lots of music, read books, watched movies, asked my friends for their thoughts. Now, hip-hop never became the language of my heart, to be sure. (Too much Hank Williams in my soul, I guess.) But somewhere along the way, my reflexive rejection of something that I didn't understand went away. I began to appreciate aspects of the music and cultural forms that I couldn't even see before (including a sometimes powerful prophetic voice), because I hadn't trained myself to see them.
I didn't stop seeing problems with hip-hop (i.e. some aspects of over-the-top violence, sexuality or materialism). But I did discover that within the world of hip-hop there were critics who understood much better than I, and could critique from a more thoughtful place. That relieved me of the burden of feeling like I had to oppose something I didn't understand. I decided that as a moderately-informed outsider who wanted to build bridges to those unlike me (for the sake of the gospel, and for unity with my community), I would take the posture of an open learner,and leave the role of critique to others.
I guess I'm wishing that more white people would take that posture vis-a-vis the social-prophetic voice of some parts of the Black church, instead of responding to a handful of harsh words pulled out of context at the emotional end of a long sermon in which many other things were also said. When needed, I suspect the Lord will raise up voices to correct the tradition... from within the tradition. (And maybe that's the role of some of the nationally-known pastors you referred to.)
By the way, I read yesterday about some harsh words Francis Schaeffer spoke back in the 1970's about God's impending judgement of America because of the evil practice of abortion. I wonder if there were nationally-known white pastors who strongly disagreed with him?
We have this in common, Mom Rose: We're both just trying to understand. I wish more of our friends were taking the same posture. St. Francis' prayer: "Grant that I might seek not so much to be understood, as to understand..."
Posted by Jeff | March 26, 2008 7:54 AM
Posted on March 26, 2008 07:54
I couldn't have said it better myself! :-)
Posted by jazztheologian | March 26, 2008 8:33 PM
Posted on March 26, 2008 20:33
Jeff,
Thank you so much for this post. I’ve been intrigued by this presidential campaign and especially interested in the Jeremiah Wright story. Last week I had a discussion with a good friend regarding Jeremiah Wright’s relationship with Barack Obama, and our conversation became so heated that we wondered if our friendship had been severed. As a white man, I am very much an outsider in terms of understanding African American culture, but I tried to explain to my friend that there is a fair amount of understandable anger in the African American community, and men like Reverend Wright often lend prominent voices to that anger. My friend had already written off Obama because of his association with Reverend Wright, and I couldn’t find a way to better explain my position. Your post offers a wonderfully creative way to engage people like me and my friend who need to have a much better understanding of a culture different from my own.
Again – thank you!
Posted by Greg Mortimer | March 27, 2008 4:59 AM
Posted on March 27, 2008 04:59
Dear Jeff,
I am sincere in my praise of your post.
Mom Rose
Posted by Mom Rose | March 28, 2008 1:33 AM
Posted on March 28, 2008 01:33
As the coordinator of Obama's Grassroots Celebratory Inaugural Gospel Glee Club, and the only white gospel singer in an black Pentecostal church in Virginia, I thank you for your poignantly explaining why we must embrace the paradoxes of what history has provided us, for better, or for worse.
Reality has its own pain at times, and thank God for people who express it, bring it to light, however awkward, or disturbing. As MLK, Jr. said, "When people get caught up with that which is right and they are willing to sacrifice for it, there is no stopping point short of victory."
Posted by Sharon McSweeney | April 28, 2008 4:44 PM
Posted on April 28, 2008 16:44
Jeff,
Reading your reflections on Rev. White's sermons brings to my mind how many ministers are often misunderstood especially by those who do not know their frame-of-reference. Giving voice to pain seems uncivilized and many consider it to be out of place. Am not familiar with your context but as a pastor in Kibera slums(Kenya), the flatted 5th note is unwelcome to many especially if brought out by the "wrong vessel" Even with this piece of comment, one can note that it is all a learning experience.
Thank you,
Posted by Sheth Otieno | June 13, 2008 6:14 AM
Posted on June 13, 2008 06:14