Choirs are notorious surprise spoilers. They know little about the mischievousness of “holding back,” the joy of subtlety, and the subversive nature of delivery. Spoiler alert! Choirs have a hard time. It’s because your average chorister is fearful. Call it stage fright, but that’s OK. Style is hard to teach. The message is rarely suggestive. But suggestive – that’s how to deliver the message. You want to leave the listener some room to want to know more. You want to leave the listener wondering, “Whatcha got cookin’?” The wafting fragrance is too good to pass up. If they sit at your table, you can serve, but ultimately, they’ll have to taste the delectableness of freedom for themselves.

In celebration of Black History Month, I wanted to do something different, a nifty spiritual arranged by African American composer, Linda Twine. A native of Oklahoma, she began her musical career in New York, teaching music in public school by day and accompanying classical and jazz artists at night. At one of these engagements, she was asked if she would like to substitute for the keyboardist of the Tony Award winning Broadway hit, “The Wiz.” She’s also known for her imaginative arrangement of spirituals.

Teaching choirs to sing stylistically is like parting the Red Sea. Why would anyone be exuberant? Haven’t you seen the so-called news? Well, we’re not talking about “the news,” but something seemingly more guarded, but hiding in plain sight.

It’s puzzling how the slaves could have hope. They did though. They didn’t want to tip slave masters off that there was an escape plan, so they encoded the message in cryptic music. Imagine if you knew your days in bondage were coming to an end. It’d be hard to keep your enthusiasm under wraps. But that’s the trick. We mustn’t let the cat out of the bag, overtly. Subversion is key. In this music, you’ll hear it “wanting” to bust out all over. In hushed tones, it builds, exhilaration mounts, then, we put a lid on it. Oops – a sudden outburst. Shhh – sit down, servant! Don’t tip anyone off that you’re secretly happy about this undergirding operation of freedom. You’ve learned some good news. You’ve turned off the nightly news.

Heavily influenced by jazz, this music is about playing it cool. Choirs notoriously play it “fearfully,” ruining the style, or contrivedly putting on a happy face. The plastic surface is dull. But once you get it, your countenance won’t lie. Jesus’ personal revelation about spiritual freedom was the epitome of “playing it cool.” He spoke cryptically. To speak to the spirit, one must be clever. The message is provocative, in a chili-bubbling way. Whatcha got cookin’? Sit down, servant. I’ll let you in on a secret. Sit. Stay.

There is an escape plan, and it’s hardly containable if you know who you are. “Be still and know that I am God.” There’s a plan a’brewin! Some have crossed, and I ain’t talkin’ physical death. Who can contain the occasional outburst once you’ve tasted freedom? The trick is keeping a lid on it, but not so tightly that the message doesn’t waft and make others wonder, “Whatcha got cookin’?” Sit down servant, it’s a big helping of freedom. Why wouldn’t your soul want to bust out all over once you’ve crossed over? How do you pass along the taste of freedom, without blowing your cover? Well, that’s the fun part. You invite them to sit, stay. Be still, and you will know “the secret” too. You are already free, and you’ve never been held against your will. There is only One Will. Soli Deo Gloria!