January 12, Baptism of the Lord C (Luke 3:15-17, 21-22)
As clear as John is about his role, he still relies on the community for a more robust expression of his calling.
“We are the ones. / We are the ones. / We’ve been waiting.” These words, wrapped in layered melody rising from the voices and witness of Sweet Honey in the Rock, met me one morning, first in memory and then on Spotify. “We are the ones. . . . / We are the ones we’ve been waiting for.” Their sound held the kind of rhythmic calm and balm my unsettled soul needed.
These days I find myself stalled at a bit of a crossroad, the heart of it being the contour and function of calling in this season. Though I once believed these kinds of matters had long been settled, the last couple of years—intensified by pandemic-inspired anxiety, several health issues, and work-related burnout—have brought with them some inconvenient uncertainty and questioning. But Sweet Honey in the Rock’s lyrics, inspired by June Jordan’s “Poem for South African Women,” seem to hold both insight and direction for these strange days.
Before that morning, I never paid attention to the fact that the first part of the song is structured as call and response. The lead singer announces their arrival in a way that suggests a sense of clarity about both identity and purpose. The announcement calls forth a response: “We’ve been waiting.” This call-and-response communal exchange, expressed often in African American music and preaching traditions, highlighted something that I had forgotten, or maybe had never before fully taken in: calling, however personal or individualized the assignment, is always fleshed out in community.
