Weary Throat

The past week, I joined fellow Episcopalians at the Virginia Mae Center at the National Cathedral for a board meeting of the Gathering of Leaders. This organization is unique within the broader Episcopal Church, serving both clergy and lay leaders by organizing leadership seminars across the country to support those who serve the church in unique positions. I participated in some of their leadership gatherings before I was elected to serve on the board.

The PowerPoint slides that were part of the presentation had a quote by Reverend Pauli Murray, one of the first female priests in the Episcopal Church and an iconic figure in the Civil Rights and Womanist Movements. Here’s the quote:

Hope is a song in a weary throat.

Give me a song of hope

And a world where I can sing it.

I love the quote. It is a beautiful quote. I shared with fellow board members that the quote immediately reminded me of this critical question posed by the words of Psalm 137:4 - How can we sing the Lord’s song in a foreign land?’ The foreign land refers to Babylon.

This was the period when the people of God were suffering under the horrific brutalities of life in exile. The people of God had been displaced and were over 1600 miles away from their homeland. In the midst of their suffering, desolation, and hopelessness, their captors derided them by inviting them to sing some of the songs of Zion. In other words, sing to us some of the songs of praise you used to sing to honor your God when you were back in your homeland. It felt like adding insult to injury.

The question is, how can you ever sing if you have a weary throat? How can you ever sing if your throat is exhausted? How can you ever sing if your throat is drained of its energy and vitality? You simply can’t sing. This is not because you don’t want to sing, but it is because you are tired of singing the songs of lament in silence. If you haven’t experienced it before, songs of lament break the human spirit.

The interesting part about Reverend Pauli’s thought process is that she identifies the weary throat as one desiring a song of hope. She is also asking not only for a song of hope but a place where she could sing that song. Imagine having a song and nowhere to sing it. Imagine having the song and no audience to hear you sing it. Life can be pretty precarious and dire in such circumstances.

That is the story of the African American. African Americans did have a song but not a place to sing our song. And when we had a place to sing, there was no audience because to hear the song meant being open to be transformed by the song of lament.

I always find it interesting that the African American experience is cast more within the framework of the Exodus story and less with the Exilic one. But I think both experiences reflect the paradoxes of life - the subjugation to which we can subject one another or a race and the deliverance or salvation that God brings to the subjugated. This is because God looks at all of us not in the same way as others look at us, and we ourselves look at ourselves. God looks at us with adoring eyes, which remind us of how much we are loved by God and how dignified we all are in spite of the circumstances in which we may find ourselves.

For our African American ancestors who lived through the inhumanity and brutality of Slavery, Segregation, Jim Crow, and all the evils that sought to denigrate and question their basic humanity, life felt like they had no song left in them. They cared about their weary throat, but they also had one more fight in them, and that fight didn’t need a song. That fight needed the faith to take one more step into a future without knowing where that future would take them.

There’s a book called The Horse, The Boy, The Fox And The Mole. In the book is the story of the boy and the horse in the woods. The boy tells the horse, ‘I can’t see a way through.’ The horse asked the boy, ‘Can you take the next step?’ The boy reposed with a ‘Yes.’ ‘Then just take that,' the horse said to the boy. The point is that African American ancestors didn’t have to worry about how far the journey was or where it would take them, they had to take the next step - and the next step has progressively brought us to this point.

In truth, we are not where we thought we would be, but we haven’t stopped taking the next step. Our throats are weary because we have been thirsty for so long, we have cried for so long, and we have sung songs of lament for so long - and it feels like there’s no audience.

On this Dr. King weekend, I look around, and I see a lot of people - African Americans, Whites, Asians, Native Americans, Latinos, and many other people from all parts of the world with weary throats. I see people who are still dealing with discrimination and all sorts of dehumanizing behaviors - they have weary throats. I see people in Los Angeles who have lost everything they have worked for - they have weary throats. I see people who are suffering from different illnesses - they have weary throats. I see senior citizens who have been abandoned by the children they raised - they have weary throats. I see a lot of hurt on many different faces - they, too, have weary throats.

Life seems as if we are all back in Egypt as Slaves or in Babylon as the captured; either way, we are free but are subjugated by events beyond our control. Our throats are weary, but more than a song and a place to sing, we need an audience open to being transformed by our songs. 

There’s no doubt that our weary throats need something soothing. It needs some good news, it needs some hopeful news. More than that, we need God’s help.

Someone said that the greatest thing that he’s found in life is that God has never denied help to those who call upon God to help them. If your throat is weary, then say with me, God, help me:

When life is rough, God, help me.

When I feel defeated, God, help me

When I feel lost and don’t know what to do, God, help me.

When I am in trouble, God, help me.

When I have a fainting soul, God, help me.

When I am weak, God, help me.

When I am sick, God, help me.

When I am being derided, God, help me.

When I am in life’s darkest tunnel, God, help me.

When I am down, God, help me.

When I am confused, God, help me.

When tears are rolling down my cheeks, God, help me.

When life’s waves overturn my boat, God, help me.

When I am helpless, God, help me.

When I feel discriminated against, God, help me.

When I can sing of your love, God, help me.

And when our throats are weary, God, help us with a new song and an audience.  

Manny+