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Excerpted Inspirations #217

  • Writer: Linda Odhner, with photos by Liz Kufs
    Linda Odhner, with photos by Liz Kufs
  • 7 hours ago
  • 0 min read
I was drawn to the music not because of its religious lyrics but because its rhythms and vocal harmonies moved something deep in my core. I felt the music in my soul before I had even acknowledged the existence of a soul. Each minor chord on the piano, each impassioned cry from the singer broke through my cynicism. I was carried away – if only for a few minutes. I came to understand that the music’s religious spirit was inseparable from the music: Each served the other, to help us express our connection to and yearning for the ineffable, to give form to that which is unseen. When a gospel vocalist sings of faith and love of Jesus, it sounds to my ears like a higher power is pouring out of them, using the artist as an instrument. [...] The sound of the Staple Singers’ early records is blues-influenced, trading church organs and a large chorus for a small band, stripping the music down to its raw core. But like much gospel, the Staple Singers’ music hinges on a buoyant joyfulness that invites the listener to share in their exaltation. Listening to this song, I clap my hands and stomp a foot on the backbeat. My heart swells with each repetition of the refrain, and I feel myself transported to places I’ve never visited but that the music conjures for me: some storefront church or a downhome revival. I’m connected to a history, to a not-so- distant past that is not a part of my personal experience but is bound up in my cultural heritage. It reached into the hidden, malnourished, and underserved parts of my spirit that I so often tried to repress. To paraphrase Mahalia Jackson’s memorable description of gospel, the music brought good tidings and good news to my life. In a world that increasingly fosters self-interest and social isolation, gospel points me toward something more intimate, more collective. Though I don’t subscribe to any particular denomination, I aspire to lead a life of curiosity, generosity, and compassion – all the best hallmarks of any faith and of great gospel music. It has also helped me to negotiate loss by giving me permission to grieve. When my father passed away in 2021, my relationship with the music changed. It brought me not only joy and exultation but also comfort. I found solace in these singers and in their assurance – their blessed assurance – that he and I would meet again in the sweet by-and-by. That year I returned to the Christ Temple Baptist Church for my father’s homegoing. I sat in the same pews he and I once sat in together, and I wept as the choir sang, “Precious Lord, take my hand and lead me on/I am tired, I am weak, Lord, I’m worn.” As the voices of the singers filled the church, blending with the sound of our mourning, it doubled me over in sorrow but also in gladness and love. I was carried to a place that no record ever brought me. I realized then that the power of gospel music is not found in the records but in the community it brings together in worship and witness. Together we carried my father’s casket out of the church and said a prayer of thanksgiving as we committed his body to the ground. -Santi Elijah Holley, “Gospel,” New York Times Magazine, 7/27/25, p. 17 “Gospel Choir Worship and Witness” artwork by Linda Simonetti Odhner

 
 
 
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