Reading the Bible with the Damned
Part 4, I'll Fly Away
Reading the Bible with the damned also changed how I think about heaven. A great example of this is how I've come to think about the song "I'll Fly Away."
As regular readers know, my favorite thing to do out at the prison, in the middle of our two hour study, is to pull out old church hymnals to sing gospel songs. The men in the study shout out numbers, we flip to that page, and then sing. We've gotten very good at harmonies over the years!
If you grew up singing gospel songs out of hymnals you know that many of these songs are songs about heaven. "When We All Get to Heaven." "To Canaan's Land I'm on My Way." "When the Roll is Called Up Yonder." "In the Sweet By and By." "Blessed Assurance." "Higher Ground." "We're Marching to Zion."
But by far, the most favorite song about heaven that we sing out at the unit is "I'll Fly Away."
Again, when I started leading the Bible study out at the prison my theological sensibilities were progressive. Consequently, I held the standard progressive view about heaven and songs about heaven. Songs about heaven were escapist and triumphalistic. Songs about heaven expressed an "over-realized eschatology." Let me explain these terms and their interrelated concerns.
By "escapist" we mean that a yearning desire for heaven can cause us to ignore pressing moral duties here on earth. An "escapist" view of heaven can also have pernicious moral effects. For example, calls for creation care can fall on deaf ears if you feel that the world is soon about to end in an apocalyptic conflagration. If the earth is a dumpster fire why put it out if you feel the whole show is going up in smoke soon anyway?
By "triumphalistic" and "over-realized eschatology" we mean that the full blessings of heaven are claimed as actual and live today. This is most clearly seen in the Prosperity Gospel, where expectations of "blessing," "victory," and "favor" are very high in a world still characterized by pain, suffering, failure, tragedy and death. A triumphalistic and over-realized eschatology assumes a degree of immunity to misfortune in this life that is inappropriate and unrealistic, an immunity that can only be truly enjoyed in heaven. As Jesus said, in this world we will have trouble. All creation continues to groan.
Such concerns cause progressive Christians to marginalize talk of heaven. The focus is, rather, upon the pressing moral demands of earth, right here and right now, and attending to its locations of harm and brokenness. And I do think this is exactly right.
And yet, when I started singing "I'll Fly Away" out at the unit I began to hear that song differently. "I'll Fly Away" sounds different in a maximum-security prison than it does in the pews of an affluent, middle-class church. Once again, location, location, location.
Inside a prison the line that jumps out at you from "I'll Fly Away" comes from the second verse: "Like a bird from prison bars has flown, I'll fly away." How could that line not hit you with some force inside the walls of a prison?
Inside a prison, and sung by the incarcerated, "I'll Fly Away" doesn't sound triumphalistic, it sounds like a lament. And if "I'll Fly Away" sounds "escapist," well, that's because you really do want to escape!
Hearing "I'll Fly Away" sung by the damned caused me to reflect upon the origin of all those old gospel hymns about heaven. The people who sang and loved them. These were poor people living hard lives. These were Black churches facing slavery and segregation. The longing for escape was real and acute. These songs pointed away from today's despair toward future hope.
These songs reminded them, and remind the damned even today, that there is a balm in Gilead.
Just yesterday, my church sang "We are Marching in the Light of God" and "I'll Fly Away." I am an African American Progressive, so I can understand that the first song was sung during the liberation of South Africa and I'll Fly Away was based on Albert E. Brumley's experiences being a poor white sharecropper longing to escape his experiences picking cotton. The inspiration for I'll Fly Away came from listening to the Prisoner's Song (If I had the Wings of An Angel) which was popular at that time.
The Prisoner's Song has extremely sad lyrics and he repurposed them by saying if he had wings, we would fly away from his misery and be with God in glory instead of in this God forsaken place.
I attend a predominately white church. Last week was Martin Luther King, Jr. Day. My pastor made mention of it totally got King's legacy wrong and you could here me groaning. I wanted to say, we have Google, we have books written about these people and moments in history. Just spend five minutes of your time and look it up, please.
Part of the issue is that the well to do are removed from the daily realities of most people...it is has become a religious social club for certain people...hence the old joke the chosen frozen. That posture is going to be the death of the church if it doesn't reclaim its mission of reaching out to the poor and brokenhearted.
Back when I was a little kid growing up down in the Arkansas Ozarks I remember Roy Acuff singing "If I had the wings of an angel, o'er these cold prison walls I would fly". I used to be disdainful of how many of those old songs were about death (Mother's not dead, she's only a'sleepin, waiting there patiently for Jesus to come). I have since come to realize that they knew death up close and personal. A visit to old graveyards filled with young mothers and children will open our eyes to the harsh reality of their lives.