The role of gospel music in my secular world.
Last night the otherworldly Michaela Coel won an Emmy for her writing on her series, I May Destroy You. She is the first Black woman to win this award. Yes, Black women still have “firsts” in the television world. While I don’t know her, I’m overflowing with pride for her. From Chewing Gum to this — I have watched her evolve and I May Destroy You, destroyed me in more ways than one.
In fact, it hit me like a ton of bricks, or a silent pinch from an elder on a church pew. I’m watching Michaela’s devastating character Arabella stumble to a fall. She’s been drugged and I’m witnessing the life-altering moment that will haunt me for the rest of this series. And that moment is punctuated by “It’s Gonna Rain,” a deep, deep gospel cut sung by Rev. Milton Bruson and his phenomenal community of Thompson singers. I know that piano and eerie gust of wind before the choir even comes in. I don’t think I’ve ever heard this song outside of a Sunday service, and to hear it now, as I’m sitting on my floor — I’m crushed. Crushed because I’ve been longing for gospel, churchy music to play a role in my life in ways that don’t involve me praying to a god I don’t believe in. And I’m wondering if Michaela has had similar questions.
A bit about me and a large majority of African American born after 1980 — I’ve stopped going to church after growing up in “The Church” all my life. This departure was slow but came to a formal halt after I had my first child. My husband and I agreed, we would not raise our daughters in “The Church.” We’ve made this decision purposefully, for a few different reasons and experiences we’ve had independently and together. And, while I certainly can’t speak for all of the Black community that has left the church, gospel music is the part of “The Church” I desperately want my children to know and love.
There’s no doubt that they will hear gospel music in their very secular lives. Gospel music and its district sound are the backbone of rock and roll, jazz, and rhythm and blues — the holy trio of American music. While many early Black artists faced their share of criticism for bridging the gap and bringing gospel music out of the church and into “the world” — we owe them dearly. And yet, there is something so specifically heavenly about gospel music. There are songs every 10 years or so, (1972 Aretha Franklin “Amazing Grace”, 1981 Clark Sisters “You Brought The Sunshine,” 1997 Kirk Franklin, “Stomp,” 2004 Kanye West “Jesus Walks”) that leap off the pew and into the club, or nightclub for the grown folks. But these spikes are just the tip of the gospel iceberg that goes deep to the heart.
And I grew up in that depth — spending time in church no less than 3 days a week. Sunday morning service, followed by an evening service. Monday was the adult choir rehearsal where I played bass. Wednesday was Teen Choir rehearsal where I also played bass. Friday was Teen Bible study and then we are back on Sunday. Kirk Franklin, Hezekiah Walker and Fred Hammond Staples ruled my small world — a world so small I never expected to hear it 20 years later in the most talked about TV series of the year.
After watching the first episode “Eyes Eyes Eyes Eyes” for the first time I cried. To know that song is to know it’s pain and it’s beauty. Like most things Black and churchy, the song takes an overplayed story (the Ark and flood) and makes it into a heartfelt testimony. Michaela does the same by using the song in her show. It shouldn’t come as a surprise — while Michaela is private about a lot of the details of her life, her love and separation from the church is not a secret she keeps. She is very forthright about the hold “The Church” had on her and how she is no longer a participating member of “The Church.” It makes sense to me — only someone who loves christianity from a distance knows that song and knows how dark it can be.
I May Destroy You will go down as a pivotal work of cinema, I’m sure. It told a story so specific it would be hard for anything to live next to it. It also opened up a hole in my heart. Gospel music is more than praise to a god. It’s a pain, a lens on the world, a vocal ache that is so ingrained in me that now I hear it everywhere. In the singer’s singers (Jazmine Sullivan’s Lost Ones and Yebba’s Distance”) as well as the rapper’s rappers (Andre3000’s Kanye Leaked Track and Kendrick Lamar) — gospel finds me everywhere. I hope, if it finds you — that it fills you with hope and awe.
