
Too often, African American worship traditions are misunderstood as purely emotional—marked by heartfelt music, passionate preaching, and vibrant expressions of praise. But this classical tradition is far more than emotionalism. At its core, it reflects a sacred movement: from raw human feeling toward wisdom, from heartfelt cries to divine understanding. In other words, emotion is not the destination—it’s the doorway.The African American classical tradition invites us into the deep spiritual truth that God meets us where we are—often through our emotions—but He never leaves us there. Through our worship, especially in song and sermon, God draws us toward greater reflection, understanding, and transformation.The Classical Tradition of the Spirituals—Songs of Humanity and Dignity
One of the great treasures of the Christian tradition is the power of sacred song to express deep truths about the human experience. In the classical tradition of the arts and literature, themes of exile, suffering, and the struggle for dignity have always resonated across time and cultures. The Spirituals, which emerged from the crucible of enslavement and racial discrimination, are no exception. These songs do more than recount the suffering of Black Americans—they connect those experiences to the universal human longing for freedom, dignity, and the recognition of our shared humanity.
Like other great works of literature, the Spirituals seek to break down barriers that deny human dignity, awaken the interior life of the individual and the life of the mind, and even confront the fear of death itself. For those who first sang these songs, the fear of death was not merely about physical mortality; it was the fear of living without meaning, without hope, without the assurance that they were seen and loved by God. The Spirituals, then, became a bold act of defiance—songs of survival, resistance, and divine hope.
Take, for example, the song “I Got Shoes.” The lyrics proclaim, “I got shoes, you got shoes, all God’s children got shoes.” To those unfamiliar with its context, it may seem like a simple song of celebration. But for enslaved people who were often forbidden from wearing shoes—a mark of status and equality—these words were radical. They declared that no matter what society said, their dignity came from God alone. Though their humanity was denied in the eyes of the world, they knew they were children of God, clothed in His grace and bound for the kingdom where their dignity would be fully revealed.
Similarly, “Follow the Drinking Gourd” was more than a coded map to freedom on the Underground Railroad. It carried profound spiritual meaning, much like the Israelites following the pillar of fire through the wilderness. It reminded those who sang it that God’s guidance was ever-present, that salvation was both a physical and spiritual journey and that faith required courage and perseverance that transcended life itself. Those who followed the “drinking gourd”—a reference to the North Star—understood that their journey was not just about escaping physical bondage but living for eternity.
These songs, and many others like them, do not reflect a theology of resignation or passive waiting for justice in the afterlife. Rather, they proclaim a faith that is alive and gives calmness, strength, and perseverance in the face of suffering. The Spirituals remind us that the world does not give us our dignity—it is inherent in every person because we are made in the image of God.
These songs call us to faith, hope, and perseverance, even when life presents us with many challenges. They proclaim that no matter what trials we endure, God’s promise remains, and His justice prevails through our inner strength, reason, and willingness to cooperate with God’s plan. We must carry this spirit of dignity in our lives, walking in faith with the courage and self-respect of those before us whom the Spirituals inspired.
Preaching in the Catholic Church is more than a moment of inspiration—it is an intellectual, historical, and spiritual discipline rooted in mystery, mastery, and tradition. The rich tradition of African American sermons, with their depth, cadence, and scriptural power, embodies this classical tradition, not as mere emotional intonation but as a vehicle for education and spiritual formation. Bible studies and homilies at St. Benedict the Moor are not departures from Catholic heritage but vital expressions of it. They link African American heritage to the broader universal themes of faith and human experience.
Music in the Catholic liturgy is not mere entertainment; it is prayer, proclamation, and participation in the mystery of God. Within the African American tradition, the rich legacy of spirituals and gospel music reflects not only deep emotion but also an intellectual, historical, and spiritual tradition rooted in mastery and discipline. Too often, gospel music is viewed through a purely romanticized or commercialized lens, reduced to its emotional power rather than recognized as an inheritance of structured artistry, mentorship, and theological depth. In our worship at St. Benedict the Moor, we celebrate this music not as a performance but as an embodiment of faith, discipline, and tradition, linking our heritage to the broader Catholic and universal Christian experience.