August typically puts me in a celebratory and contemplative mood as it is my birth month, a time of gratitude and reflection.  This time it felt different as I was troubled with all that is going on in the country — gun violence, hate crimes and an undercurrent of despair. It seems that death is shaking its fist at hope, trying to claim territory in communities and creep its way into the hearts and minds of people who are simply trying to live.  

Mary paces the floor,  muttering…
“He’ll be here. He’s coming. Surely Jesus got our message that our brother needs him!”
Outside there are whispers, “Who will tell her?”
And then a sigh, “I will tell her.”
Martha enters, trying to find the words with only a tear revealing the news,
“Lazarus is dead.”
Mary opens her mouth and collapses in a heap.
Her gasp gains momentum in her throat and the wail comes…
Days later, the whispers start again  — “He shows up now?!”
Mary emerges, crying out, “If You had been here…”
And Jesus weeps…

Last month, I woke up on a Sunday morning to a local radio station paying tribute to the late Queen of Soul, Aretha Franklin. The song that was playing transported me to the Bronx apartment of my childhood.   I was young but old enough to be home alone. A mahogany hutch stood in a corner of the living room. Sitting on one of the shelves was a friend inviting me over to visit. I opened the cabinet beneath and saw them all, knowing which one I wanted to hear — that “Amazing Grace” album. I pulled it out and saw the regal woman poised and sitting on some steps with her burgundy dashiki dress and head wrap. I lifted the hand of my friend and carefully placed it on the spinning black disc with the red, white and green label in the center.  

Oh oh Mary, Oh oh Mary, Oh oh Mary, Oh oh Mary
Oh oh Mary, Oh oh Mary, Oh oh Mary, Oh oh Mary
Oh Mary Don’t You Weep
Oh Martha don’t you moan
Oh Mary Don’t You Weep
Oh Martha don’t you moan
Pharaoh’s Army
Drowned in the Red Sea
Oh Mary Don’t You Weep. Don’t weep.
Tell Martha not to moan.

I had this song on repeat.  I didn’t know why it appealed to me so much, but in retrospect there was something otherworldly happening when they told the story:

If I could
I surely would
stand on the rock
where Moses stood
Pharaoh’s Army
Drowned in the Red Sea
Oh Mary Don’t You Weep. Don’t weep.
Tell Martha not to moan

In my sanctified imagination, I can hear a choir singing this to Mary, who wonders what Pharaoh’s Army has to do with her situation. Then out of nowhere,  Miriam, Moses and Aaron show up to testify.  In those moments when I’m wondering where in the world Jesus is, I need to pause to listen to the testimony of Aretha and all the ancestors who sang or lived out this song.

Hebrews 11 and 12 speak of a “cloud of witnesses” who testify to Divine Presence and Power that showed up for them on the journey that is life. Sometimes we need a reminder of past triumphs over oppressive forces, including death in its many forms. Every once in a while, a witness steps forward and taps us on the shoulder to let us know that we will finish the race with victory. In spite of what it looks like, death dies and ultimately, resurrection reigns.

Your Call: Who in your cloud of witnesses is encouraging you in the midst of your race, especially during challenging times?