Today’s Word from TLC Keyboardist Sheila Weidendorf…
Sometime I feel like a motherless child
Sometimes I feel like a motherless child
And sometimes I feel like a motherless child
A long ways from home
A long ways from home
Sometimes I feel like I’m almost gone
Sometimes I feel like I’m almost gone
Sometimes I feel like I’m almost gone
A long ways from home
A long ways from home
Come my brother
A long ways from home
A long ways from home
From “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,” to “Go Down Moses,” to “There is a Balm in Gilead” to “Steal Away,” the traditional spiritual has long held a place in our houses of worship. Rooted in what were once called plantation songs or slave songs, the Spiritual (formerly known as the “Negro” spiritual) calls out from the heart of one who suffers, calls upon the grace of God for deliverance—whether from inner torment or from the broader strokes of oppression. Africans brought to US soil as slaves toiled long and hard, regularly sold off from one master to another separating husband from wife, mother from child. The crushing of the family unit was one of many attempts to crush the spirits and wills of the oppressed slaves.
But rising up from the midst of torment were the voices of the people – whether singing out for deliverance by the grace of God, or communicating with other slaves the intent to flee to freedom in a mode not recognized by the task masters. These “plantation songs” were largely improvised folk songs, embellished and harmonized and evolving over time. They were work songs, and songs of the heart – not polished performance music.
Yet, these spirituals DID find their way into the American concert hall after the end of slavery. Today’s offering, “Sometimes I Feel Like a Motherless Child,” first entered the performance arena by a touring singing group in the 1870s—The Fisk Jubilee Singers—formed to represent the new college for African Americans and raise money for its programs. Over time, it has been recorded by everyone from Paul Robeson to Odetta to Mahalia Jackson to Van Morrison and even Frank Sinatra!
Like many spirituals, the song is a lamentation of the deep losses suffered by the African peoples in the violence of slavery. It expresses the inexpressible pain of separation from home, from family, and maybe even from God. Perhaps we today cannot possibly comprehend the depth of sorrow and loss of the enslaved, even while we regularly sing songs from their musical pantheon. Says Hall Johnson in his “Thirty Spirituals Arranged for Voice & Piano,” (pub. 1949),
“This music was transmitted to us through humble channels, but its source is that of all great art everywhere—the unquenchable, divinely human longing for a perfect realization of life. It traverses every shade of emotion without spilling over in any direction. Its most tragic utterances are without pessimism, and its lightest, brightest moments have nothing to do with frivolity. In its darkest expressions there is always a hope, and in its gayest measures a constant reminder. Born out of the heart-cries of a captive people who still did not forget how to laugh, this music covers an amazing range of mood. Nevertheless, it is always serious music and should be performed seriously, in the spirit of its original conception.“
The tradition of spirituals actually not only lives on in the modern church—these songs have entered the musical mainstream through their influence on the popular idioms of jazz and rock and roll. And why not? They are both beautiful and incredibly expressive of the human experience. In 1892 composer Antonin Dvorak visited the U.S. to direct the National Conservatory of Music in New York City. One of his interests was seeking a truly “American” national music. In his 1895 writing, “Music in America” (published 1895 in Harper’s 90) he stated,
“…The so-called plantation songs are indeed the most striking and appealing melodies that have yet been found on this side of the water, but largely by the observation that this seems to be recognized, though often unconsciously, by most Americans…The most potent as well as most beautiful among them, according to my estimation, are certain of the so-called plantation melodies and slave songs, all of which are distinguished by unusual and subtle harmonies, the like of which I have found in no other songs but those of old Scotland and Ireland.“
Motherless Child is a prime example of a haunting melody that reaches into the heart to express the most wrenching of human experiences, while still holding out for hope of deliverance by a merciful God. And haven’t we all—at one point or another—felt lost, abandoned to hopelessness, searching for the grace and mercy of One larger than that which hurts us?
I have included here an improvised piano version of this song, a personal favorite of mine. Even without words we can feel the suffering of our sisters and brothers, and the longing for hope in the midst of struggle. The suffering of one of God’s children is shared by the entire human community. In these times of so much strife, uncertainty and suffering the world over, we would be well to remember, “Verily I say unto you, in so much as ye have done it unto one of the least of these my brethren, ye have done it unto me.” (Matthew 2:40)
Click HERE to listen to my version of Motherless Child.
Sheila Weidendorf
