Reconciliation, as I understand it, is the end of estrangement between God and humanity, or between one person and another, or one set of people and another. Is Persisterhood Choir part of a reconciliation effort?
I’m not sure. But we hope so. We came into being because of estrangement, and since our inception we’ve reflected on injustices and others’ estrangements and hope that our songs make the world a better place.
As members of Hope Church know well, we live in a broken world.
It felt very broken in the Fall of 2016.
There was an absence of civil discourse.
There were lies.
We saw violence in schools and churches.
And we heard ugly, demeaning talk about women from men in positions of authority, men who were being listened to and admired.
We knew the roots–
(CHOIR–murmur ME TOO- ME TOO -ME TOO from very soft to mezzo forte)
—many of you women in the congregation did too–of what would later become the Me Too movement.
We went to Washington, many of us. On very uncomfortable buses that drove all through the night and then returned the next.
But the whole time we were shivering there on crowded streets—some of us having NEVER done a protest before—we were thinking
ANN—This little light
Kath—This little light of mine
Mary—I’m going to let it shine
Katie—I’m going to let it shine
Which we did, and it was amazing. But how to keep that shine going?
There was a song—new song that became the unofficial song of the women’s march, and it was called
ALL say—I CAN’T KEEP QUIET
And some of us wanted to sing it. So Jen arranged it for us, and we started to sing with each other, that song, and other songs like it.
We sang a song that Jen and Brad had brought back with them from South Africa called Siyahamba, We are marching in the Light of God.
And when we sang that, one of us called out, We are marching
Ann–For no guns in school!
And we talked about how we can make a difference to the violence in our country, and we sang, We are marching
Kath–For the Youth who Lead
And we would thank God that we weren’t alone. Other people too were grieving over this broken and bitter world, and doing something about it.
There is a proud tradition of singing for social justice, going back to the suffragettes, and other activists.
Mary: Gentle, ANGRY people, who sang for their lives
So after our rehearsals, we would talk with each other about what others were doing. Here were some of the discussions.
Gerrymandering. We have one person in our choir who is tireless about fixing this broken part of our politics.
11 and 12 year old children in Grand Rapids clapped in handcuffs, by mistake. Neighbors. Kids. Their mother cried and cried about their trauma. Of course, black lives matter, and yes, These are OUR children, from our community.
Families separated at the border. We have many moms and grammas and aunts and nieces and teachers in this choir who can’t imagine how much fear that must entail.
Our physical world– Flint! The Nestle Corporation taking our water.
LGBT kids—in this community– who contemplate suicide.
These are wrongs, worries, evidence of brokenness. But we’ve found solace and direction in singing out the idea that we
Mary and Katie and Kath: Stand, shoulder to shoulder
So we keep movin’ on.
Of course we know that some people think this is silly, or deluded, that this little choir could possibly make a difference or make the world a better place.
But the songs keep bubbling up, inside of us.
Katie: I. Will. Rise. Up!
And in the end, the worry that we aren’t really doing anything, isn’t that the same worry or criticism about our own individual lives? That we can’t do much to make this world better?
And is that a reason not to try?
And could it be,
Ann: that the dawn draws near?
PAUSE
Kath: and the world is about to turn?
While we can, before we die, we are here to testify.
(One after the other)
Mary—to testify!
Katie—to testify!
Ann—to testify!
Kath—to testify!
~Pat Bloem & Persisterhood Choir