The Bitter Waters and the God of All Comfort
AP science writer, Randolph E. Schmid reported on November 25, 2008, that Marine archaeologists had found the remains of a slave ship wrecked off the Turks and Caicos Islands in 1841, an accident that set free the ancestors of many current residents of those islands. Some 192 Africans survived the sinking of the Spanish ship Trouvadore off the British-ruled islands, where the slave trade was banned.
This report reminds us that millions of free Africans experienced the horrible progression from freedom, to capture, to baracoon, to inhumane inspection, and then to the holds of the slave ships. Historians have variously labeled their months-long crossing of the Atlantic as “the trans-Atlantic passage,” “the Middle Passage,” “the slave holds,” “the bitter waters,” and “rupture.”[1]
Barbara Holmes, in Joy Unspeakable, explains the terminology while introducing the tragedy. “Although the event is often referred to as the Middle Passage, this label fails to depict the stark realities of a slave ship. Captured Africans were spooned together lying on their sides in ships that pitched with every wave. Together they wept and moaned in a forced community that cut across tribal and cultural lines.”[2]
Creative Communal Expression of the Inexpressible: The Moan
The air was thick with stench and panic as ships like the Trouvadore departed the Slave Coast laden with their human cargo. The gruesomeness of their voyage of terror was akin to something out of a horror movie.
But how could they articulate such suffocating physical suffering and psychological agony? And if articulated, would they be understood since the slavers pitilessly ignored all tribal associations? Groans that could not be uttered and words that could not be communicated became the primal sustaining language of known as the moan.[3]
As the ships lurched back and forth with each wave, each soul rocked and swayed with despondency. Out of their despair “the moan became the first vocalization of a new spiritual vocabulary—terrible and wonderful, it was a cry, a critique, a prayer, a hymn, a sermon, all at once”[4]
As such, it was desperately defiant. Seemingly destitute of all power, the sufferers grasped hold of the universe, wordlessly shouting, “This is not the way it was meant to be!” The pain of enslavement dared them to succumb—to give up hope by losing their voice. In the moan, they reclaimed their voice, their inner personhood, their God-given right to express themselves.
Following the North Star: Portals of Hope
We follow the North Star guidance of the enslaved Africans’ responses to capture and rupture by reminding ourselves and our spiritual friends that we are never alone. Most of us would consider ourselves condemned prisoners in solitary confinement if we were stowed in the suffocating hold of a slave ship with little air, no portals, and no access to the outside world. Our African forebears teach us that there are always three open portals providing a way of internal release from captivity.
Portal one is God—the God of all portals, the God of all comfort who comforts us in all our tribulations. Kidnapped from their homes and hijacked across the world, enslaved Africans encountered a wilderness experience that raised ultimate questions and brought them to a breaking point. On the brink between sanity and insanity, many encountered God—their good God who hears, sees, and cares. Theirs was a dual journey—away from their human home to their heavenly Home. As they journeyed, the chains still clanked, yet their hearts still hummed, or at least moaned.
Portal two is people—when the God of all comfort comforts us, he does so in order that we can comfort one another with the comfort that we receive from him. Individually and corporately they tapped into the Holy Spirit at every turn. In bound community, they shared with one another the Spirit of God within them, their hope of glory. The collective gathering of the power of his presence in their inner being provided life-sustaining strength in the midst of death-bidding despair. The all-surpassing power of God (2 Corinthians 4:7-9) shared among these captured souls transformed them into “Jesus with skin on.”
Portal three is self—not the self of self-sufficiency, but the self created in the image of God and infused with the Spirit of God. Ramming into the breakers of life, these enslaved men and women could break or conclude that there is no need to break. At their breaking point, those slaves who entrusted themselves to God discovered a bottomless resourcefulness that enabled them to transform physical bondage into spiritual freedom.[5] Through God, they absorbed the ache of life without abandoning the ship of hope. Even while stowed like animals below deck, they saw the shining North Star of God with upturned eyes of faith looking out spiritual portals.
[1]Excerpted from, Kellemen and Edwards, Beyond the Suffering, Embracing the Legacy of African American Soul Care and Spiritual Direction, Baker, 2007.
[2]Holmes, Joy Unspeakable, pp. 69-70.
[3]Holmes, pp. 72-74.
[4]Noel, “Call and Response,” p. 72.
[5]Thurman, Deep River, p. 39.
This report reminds us that millions of free Africans experienced the horrible progression from freedom, to capture, to baracoon, to inhumane inspection, and then to the holds of the slave ships. Historians have variously labeled their months-long crossing of the Atlantic as “the trans-Atlantic passage,” “the Middle Passage,” “the slave holds,” “the bitter waters,” and “rupture.”[1]
Barbara Holmes, in Joy Unspeakable, explains the terminology while introducing the tragedy. “Although the event is often referred to as the Middle Passage, this label fails to depict the stark realities of a slave ship. Captured Africans were spooned together lying on their sides in ships that pitched with every wave. Together they wept and moaned in a forced community that cut across tribal and cultural lines.”[2]
Creative Communal Expression of the Inexpressible: The Moan
The air was thick with stench and panic as ships like the Trouvadore departed the Slave Coast laden with their human cargo. The gruesomeness of their voyage of terror was akin to something out of a horror movie.
But how could they articulate such suffocating physical suffering and psychological agony? And if articulated, would they be understood since the slavers pitilessly ignored all tribal associations? Groans that could not be uttered and words that could not be communicated became the primal sustaining language of known as the moan.[3]
As the ships lurched back and forth with each wave, each soul rocked and swayed with despondency. Out of their despair “the moan became the first vocalization of a new spiritual vocabulary—terrible and wonderful, it was a cry, a critique, a prayer, a hymn, a sermon, all at once”[4]
As such, it was desperately defiant. Seemingly destitute of all power, the sufferers grasped hold of the universe, wordlessly shouting, “This is not the way it was meant to be!” The pain of enslavement dared them to succumb—to give up hope by losing their voice. In the moan, they reclaimed their voice, their inner personhood, their God-given right to express themselves.
Following the North Star: Portals of Hope
We follow the North Star guidance of the enslaved Africans’ responses to capture and rupture by reminding ourselves and our spiritual friends that we are never alone. Most of us would consider ourselves condemned prisoners in solitary confinement if we were stowed in the suffocating hold of a slave ship with little air, no portals, and no access to the outside world. Our African forebears teach us that there are always three open portals providing a way of internal release from captivity.
Portal one is God—the God of all portals, the God of all comfort who comforts us in all our tribulations. Kidnapped from their homes and hijacked across the world, enslaved Africans encountered a wilderness experience that raised ultimate questions and brought them to a breaking point. On the brink between sanity and insanity, many encountered God—their good God who hears, sees, and cares. Theirs was a dual journey—away from their human home to their heavenly Home. As they journeyed, the chains still clanked, yet their hearts still hummed, or at least moaned.
Portal two is people—when the God of all comfort comforts us, he does so in order that we can comfort one another with the comfort that we receive from him. Individually and corporately they tapped into the Holy Spirit at every turn. In bound community, they shared with one another the Spirit of God within them, their hope of glory. The collective gathering of the power of his presence in their inner being provided life-sustaining strength in the midst of death-bidding despair. The all-surpassing power of God (2 Corinthians 4:7-9) shared among these captured souls transformed them into “Jesus with skin on.”
Portal three is self—not the self of self-sufficiency, but the self created in the image of God and infused with the Spirit of God. Ramming into the breakers of life, these enslaved men and women could break or conclude that there is no need to break. At their breaking point, those slaves who entrusted themselves to God discovered a bottomless resourcefulness that enabled them to transform physical bondage into spiritual freedom.[5] Through God, they absorbed the ache of life without abandoning the ship of hope. Even while stowed like animals below deck, they saw the shining North Star of God with upturned eyes of faith looking out spiritual portals.
[1]Excerpted from, Kellemen and Edwards, Beyond the Suffering, Embracing the Legacy of African American Soul Care and Spiritual Direction, Baker, 2007.
[2]Holmes, Joy Unspeakable, pp. 69-70.
[3]Holmes, pp. 72-74.
[4]Noel, “Call and Response,” p. 72.
[5]Thurman, Deep River, p. 39.
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