Day 7: Rest from Lament
The Christian Church traditionally observes Sunday as a day for rest, sometimes even calling it a “little Easter”—an affirmation of the time coming when everything will be better, whole, new. It is also a recognition that, though the reasons for lament remain, our bodies and souls need time set apart from the work of grief, the intensity of activism, the persistence of sorrow, the dogged exhaustion of being a human alive in this world.
Today at Bridge of Lament, we’re going to do the same. Today’s reading is for peace, hope, and joy, and once again, we follow the Lynchburg Black community's lead.
Last Monday evening, Juneteenth, the Academy Center of the Arts in downtown Lynchburg hosted a celebration of songs from the underground railroad. The event was a convergence of deeply-felt slave songs with the jubilation of traditional African dance with the recognition among the audience that this culture came down from their forebears and that its manifestations on this stage tonight were beautiful and good.
The energy in the room was palpable; the joy was overwhelming.
I was in the audience minority. I found myself feeling small in my Caucasian skin—not because I was made to feel bad about myself, but because this joyful, moving assent to the goodness of Black history and music and dance and the beautiful Black body itself added up to what felt like a sacred space. I was allowed in. It was not about me, and that in itself was good, and I was humbled in awe.
When the dancers and drummers of Lynchburg’s West African Kuumba Dance Ensemble began to perform, the crowd was electrified.
When Linda Harris, Director of Events and Programs at the Harriet Tubman Museum and Educational Center in Cambridge, Maryland, introduced one of the freedom songs with the explanation that Tubman had learned and followed the stars—that she was smart—that slaves were smart, she commented,
“They didn’t teach you that in school.”
The middle-aged woman seated behind me breathed,
“No. They sure didn’t,”
. . . and I heard and felt the wholeness and depth of vitality that representation and affirmation brings.
The above slideshow highlights one of the freedom songs performed at the Academy; the backdrop is photos from a walk, led by Harris, along the Underground Railroad: “We Walk with Harriet” (credit).
And this video from a Kuumba Ensemble dance class earlier this year gives only a little taste of what happened in the Academy Theater Monday night—but the magic and the beauty are there. Watch and see if you don’t feel it, too.
Questions or feedback? We’d love to hear from you. Email bridgeoflament@gmail.com.