Songs of Freedom
A few weeks back I had one of the most fascinating times of worship I’ve had in a long time. I went with a group of students to a youth correctional facility here in Oregon. While I’ve been in prison settings in the past, I’d never been to one that made me so uneasy. Perhaps I heard too many prison guard stories outside the gate before we entered. A good number of the teens in this place have committed very serious crimes.
They divided us into groups of 3 and I went with a couple of our newly arrived China exchange students. Both spoke little English. We were the last in line and got sent to the “violent offenders cabin.”
After an hour of yard work and some nervous small talk, we had two significant relational breakthroughs. First, The guards brought us McDonalds. Those universal “double Cheeseburgers” even seemed to comfort my friends from China. Secondly, one of the guys brought out a very beat-up navy blue Wal-Mart acoustic guitar.
Here’s what happened. A guy named Greg grabbed the guitar and began to play some Jack Johnson. He did so impressively. Then they passed the guitar to Cece who sang a country song with a vocal quality that moved me.
I could sense as they played that the other inmates deeply appreciated their musical offerings. Some of the guys were closing their eyes as if stealing away a moment to another place. Then they passed the guitar to me saying, “You play dude?” I was nervous but took it and began to sing one of Matt Maher’s songs…“Great is your faithfulness oh God of Jacob, you wrestle with the sinners restless heart.” As I finished one the guys said “I like that dude.” Another asked, “You know Jesus Lover of My Soul?” After singing it I handed the guitar back to Jack Jr. This one was an original. Then back to Cece. This time it was Bob Marley…“Wont you help to sing these songs of freedom? -cause all I ever have: Redemption songs, redemption songs.” Then back to me singing Aaron Strumpel… “Oh You lead me to waters and pastures so green, You pour out your oil and choose goodness and mercy for me.”
We didn’t just sing, we started swapping stories, some were hilarious, some were painful. We couldn’t have planned it but we had one of the most incredible and memorable times of worship I’ve ever had. It was earthy and unscripted and very human. In that very moment the Kingdom seemed heavy upon us. I was astonished at the openness these guys had towards God. Our defenses were down. We were laughing. We were connected. At the end we were all hugging and expressing hopes to see each other again.
I couldn’t stop thinking about these guys for days. I still can’t. It was as if we went into another world together, carried by the sounds and stories of our songs. I’ve been troubled by the irony that Cece, a teenager sentenced to nearly twenty years in prison was singing “Wont you help to sing these songs of freedom? -cause all I ever have: Redemption songs, redemption songs.”
I’ve been asking some questions in reflection of this time: What is it about the universal language of music that holds such power to shape us, to change us, to give hope, and even to create another world? Why is song such a comfort in the ears of the oppressed? Why is music so vital to the worshipping life of the people of God? Why in a place filled with so much darkness was God so visible?
Anyone have any thoughts?
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Hey Mark. I have some thoughts on one of your concluding questions. I have been doing research on shame and the disbondedness which can cause it. I think music has the ability to create a certain bond, even as music because a chord can have the connection of several notes without any one of them becoming dominant. Harmonious music can become louder without becoming less clear. So, when you ask how music can shape us, change us, give hope, and create other worlds, you already have part of the answer: it is universal. It resonates deeply that our relational discord is not the way it’s supposed to be. This need not eliminate the plurality of music, but create new mixes and sounds with each coordinated effort.