Spiritual Death and Resurrection

By Camille

A common theme I hear throughout African American spirituals or sorrow songs is death. Either a spiritual or metaphorical death, there is the under and overtones of the "last times" or "going home" referring to seeing the Lord. The song by Ndidi O called May Be The Last Time, gives the feeling of marching to the end of pain and into a world of the unknown. In this same theme is the song by Ruthi Foster Lord Remember Me, a proclamation to the Lord that when we are free from the chains of racial oppression and the physical turmoil of surrogacy the Lord will still be there to call them home, to the place of safety.

There is a sense of courage within spirituals, that enslaved individuals were not much afraid of death, but they were afraid that the Lord would give up on them, or that the Lord would move past them because they were being held back by chains of oppression, chains of blood, flesh, and endless weeping for a better day to come. To the enslaved, weeping may have been thought of as a deterrent for the Lord because the Lord sends the toughest soldiers to fight the battle and in those dark and cold moments when their bodies are feeling heavy, it may have felt like the tough soldier had worn off. This makes me think of how could the enslaved think they committed such sin to be held against their will, used and abused, and subjected to great sorrow?

Spiritual death is a separation from God in one sense. But in this social context, it is a separation from the soul that once lived in innocence, not to be degraded by the evils of prejudice. The entity that occupies the soul has been encompassed by the weight of oppression, stripping away the sense of worth and dignity inherent in every human being. There are reoccurring and inherent themes of sin, suffering, and salvation within Spirituals both on the personal level and on the communal level. The profound loss of spiritual and moral integrity caused by the dehumanizing effects of slavery and oppression represents a rupture in the soul's connection to its inherent dignity and worth, which should be inviolable but has been eroded by the relentless weight of prejudice and exploitation.

On the personal and communal levels, sin, suffering, and salvation became a collective burden because of the societal depravity. This physical suffering manifested into existential suffering as they were forced to grapple with the indignity of being treated as less than human. This physical suffering has been branded as the body collects the scars of bondage, each mark pulled by the hands of white supremacy, but I'll be dammed if these stories and lived experiences of great sorrow and found liberation are swiveled down to the existence of white men. Their stories and lived experiences of sorrow and resilience defy reduction to mere footnotes in the narrative of white dominance.

The narratives woven into African American spirituals and oral traditions are not passive reflections of white oppressors but vibrant affirmations of Black agency, resistance, and resilience. These songs and stories speak to the strength and dignity of a people who refused to be defined solely by their suffering. Instead, they reclaimed their humanity and asserted their worth through acts of cultural expression and spiritual defiance.

I hope you listen to the songs mentioned above, and I hope you listen to the words, listen to how the music enhances the storytelling, and recognize how the vocal tones and the a capella style used sets the stage for how these song styles were sung during times of segregation, enslavement, oppression. These are marching songs, cultivation songs, and liberation songs. Another song recommendation that is a timeless listen, "Ain ' Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me 'Round" by Sweet Honey In The Rock also a band called Roots sings this song and it is very jazzy and has Gospel music tones with the electric piano.