ABOUT 12 YEARS AGO, I was a part of a group of clergy arrested for civil disobedience. After we were placed in a police van, we began to sing freedom songs like “Ain’t Gonna Let Nobody Turn Me Around.” I remember that any lingering anxiety I had dissipated as we sang. The experience of music interlaced with our march for justice filled our senses and left an imprint among all those who were arrested.
This points to a larger truth: Music wields undeniable power in human experience. Though I’ve met many people who dislike a particular genre of music, I have never met a person who disliked music itself. When experienced collectively, music unifies. The church knows this and has historically emphasized its importance. Whether songs are led by a single person on a pipe organ, an elaborate rock band with blazing stage lights, or a thunderous, brightly robed choir clapping on the two and four, the sonically healing nature of music can draw a church assembly together into a state of unified resonance.
Science has caught up to the spirit of the matter, recognizing music’s impact on our bodies and brains. People singing together draw synchronized breaths; we now understand that this causes their heartbeats to sync up. Further studies show that singing together releases hormones that reduce stress levels, reinforce social bonds of trust, and contribute to overall well-being.
Since the coronavirus pandemic began, loneliness and hopelessness have lingered. Researchers have found that loneliness can have more negative impact on one’s health than cigarette smoking. But choir movements might provide some help. One example near me is the Gaia Music Collective, which gathers people, regardless of prior singing experience, to sing with other New Yorkers. Participants simply sign up through the choir’s online portal and show up to rehearse a song. These choir experiences are nonreligious, but if you listen in, it’s the experience of being “taken to church.”
Every music gathering, whether in a concert hall or jazz club, follows a form of liturgy. Liturgy helps to hold stories and meaning, weaving together an alternate reality for the moment. This is how we understand the hopeful words of Kendrick Lamar, who rapped, “We gon’ be alright.”
Underneath all of this, it is evident that the church has something to offer the world: A form of participation through song and a transcendent experience through our liturgy. While many churches emphasize the sermon or communion, what if we saw the gathering as a medley of offerings, including music, that creates a sense of unity and healing? I haven’t seen many churches strike this balance well, but the historic Black church and Latinx Pentecostal church offerpatterns that today’s churches can use. We need moments where people can collectively sing through hellish circumstances and find joyful unity. The church can offer a liberating song, one that connects the dire circumstances of our world’s reality to the substance of things hoped for.
José Humphreys III is author of Seeing Jesus in East Harlem: What Happens When Churches Show Up and Stay Put and co-author of Ecosystems of Jubilee: Economic Ethics for the Neighborhood (Zondervan, 2023).
Got something to say about what you're reading? We value your feedback!
