Contemplative Anger

“This is not ‘joy’ in the ordinary sense of the word. . . . This is the communal performance of resistance and resilience through dancing and rhythmic movement. Funeral-car doors fly open, music is thumping, and the community dances its defiance of death and the society that produces it.

We are angry, we are grieving, we are performing black joy as a sign of our determination to survive.”

Those are the words of Joy Unspeakable author Barbara Holmes as quoted in Richard Rohr’s meditation. She is speaking to the rhythmic bodily expressed joy which accompanies anger. It is unusual to link joy and anger; joy and grief, and yet as an Easter people are we not living exactly that life between the sorrow of the crucifixion and the joy of the resurrection. I find this perspective helpful during this time of pandemic and now racial strife and protest. 

Someone commented to me how magnificent it is to witness and participate in protests where the faces are not only infinitely diverse in age and color and ability but also reflective of a committed resolve fueled by hope. It seems to me that to have an effect on embedded sytems some crytalizing penetrating note of divinity must shatter.

Throughout these past weeks I have been wondering why all of a sudden jazz, improvisation and dance are so important to me. It feels as though the realization of syncopated patterns and authentic movement are speaking these words of joy and creating a resilience upon which to base an authentic movement. 

I am hopeful that as I break open, something like a joyful moaning will become the glue to reassemble and the call to justice.