This post comes from Mockingbird friend and jazz fan Morris Middleton.
As a jazz pianist I’m always on the lookout for a beautiful song, and in Esperanza Spalding’s haunting song, Espera, I found one. But in it I heard something even more haunting. The human cry for help.
The word espera derives from the Spanish, Catalan and Portuguese infinitive esperar, “to hope, wait or expect.” The talented Spalding’s eponymous Espera is labeled a song of hope, yet its lyrics paint a picture as haunting as the minor key in which it is written.
Its lyrics paint a bleak and hopeless picture of human desperation in a desolate world absent any promise of redemption, save old-fashioned, up-from-the-bootstraps human resolve. Espera turns out to be more a song of hopelessness than of hope. Oh, all earthly ministrations to the dilemma are courageously brought forth as anointing balm, but this wound needs a tourniquet! Each fails to end the soul’s bleeding like a depressing application and reapplication of nothing but a succession of superficial plastic Band-Aids.
Pretend I’m just drifting off to sleep, all iDocked into my nice premium 5-star hotel featherbed, this song playing. It’s a wonderful life in this foreign city of the world. Until it isn’t:
I almost gave up holding on
Watching us give in to our fears
All the world is helpless sorrow
No hope for the bright tomorrow
Normal. Yep, we’ve all felt like that. It computes — I’m only human, after all. But, I’ll soldier through on a booster of earthly hope. The best people (I’m one!) have always been strong enough to affect positive change.
But anxiety looms larger with every note of the real picture as it slowly grinds into my earth-weary soul:
Now as I learn how I must work for change
I nearly cave in from the weight
All the sorrows that consume me
‘Til peace among men I never can see
Suddenly, I’m realizing this is no dream, and it isn’t very comfortable. It would be a bad one, in fact, were it a dream. But I’ll just have to soldier on! Strong, determined, self-reliant human beings like I read about rise to occasions like this. I triumph when I work hard, so here I go:
I’ll keep faith
Like so many souls who won’t be drowned
By evil in the world
I’ll have faith in mankind
That we can guide our choices towards a healthy world
In time to ease our bind
Yet I feel that bind. As I look into the blackness outside my 45th-floor room’s window I view a world that is undeniably sick. Things are distorted and evil. People are hurting and dying. I too hurt. I myself will die. This is hopelessness indeed. How can that be? Isn’t one of these other strong humans doing something proactive to remedy it for me? Where are the exit stairs?
As I glance at the familiar foreignness of my hotel room I’m aware I’m suddenly feeling very alone right now. Hope? This song is about hope? If it is, then where can I find it? I need the cure. Right this minute!
[youtube=http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-YI6nTKltGE&w=550]
It is high time for the song’s storyline to rise upward. But, funny, it continues degrading. The best human beings rally:
I’ll keep faith
Like so many souls who won’t be drowned
By evil in the world
I’ll have faith
In mankind
That we can guide our choices toward a healthy world
In time to ease our bind
For only hard work through time
Can change men’s minds, I know
If we make some small changes now
We’ll heal ourselves
Some way, somehow
I almost believe,
Well, I do believe
That should do it, then. I can talk myself into it. Resolve is all it takes. Inner strength. Determination! I do feel lots better now.
Except that I don’t.
Still bedeviling me is that old problem that keeps creeping in from the high darkness outside. I’m sick. I’m unhappy. I’m without hope. I am alone. I am dying. On a high floor.
I’m entirely out of options now. So I’m forced to blindly keep “the faith”—it is the only thing to do. Buck up and sustain myself. Resolve:
Oh, the path to peace is endless
So, choosing to close our eyes makes our fault endless
Of this I’m sure enough
I won’t give up
I’m sure enough
I won’t give up
I’m sure enough
And I won’t give up
Stop! Wake up. You were dreaming.
But you weren’t.
Were I the sleeper and the story ended here, I’d be so bummed out right now I could barely touch my screen deftly enough to stop that anything-but-dreamy MP3 from rattling in my head. I quit. Somebody else don’t give up. I haven’t the strength anymore. Instead of the fire escape, I might even begin looking for the window in that hotel room. Oh god!
Oh, God? Well, yeah, maybe even Him….
Irradiated by Jesus’ Divine light, we have been roused from this nightmare by the Watchman of all nights. Faith in mankind is no longer compulsory. No self-resolve is potent enough to generate a beam that could even mimic, much less duplicate this warm brilliance.
We dwell in invigorating newness of life; ours is a brilliant dawn whose warm, sustaining Heavenly rays of love, peace and justification shine radiantly upon us. Thanks to but one little thing: Jesus’ ugly, tragic, unpopular, outré, bloody, dark, showy, sacrificial, beautiful death on the Cross.
I shall fear no evil.
Yea, though I walk through
the valley of the shadow of death, He is with me.
I know the strength of his rod,
and the sturdiness of his staff.
And He knows more than the concierge….
Such are the dreams of a man made new in the Blood. Thanks to the brilliance of Christ’s gift of grace, I am no longer in my feeble strength required to conjugate the verb esperar. I have awakened this and every morning to true hope. I know real hope. I dwell in hope — and Hope dwells in me.
And that is in the infinite, not the infinitive.
COMMENTS
18 responses to “Espera: Hope on a High Floor”
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Good stuff
Excellent piece! This contributor ought be become a regular on this blog!
Methinks Bill Nolan is prejudiced. Thank you, good friend. Welcome to Mockingbird! Come fly with us.
Magnificent-thank you, Morris!!!
Doctor Betty Ruth, that is high praise coming from one as exceptional as you. Thank you, friend, and many blessings, now and always.
Great music and beautiful voice. She almost takes you back in time when things were less stressful. Thanks keep up the good work.
Mark, I’ve always been an observer of the culture’s and one of the reasons Mockingbird resonates with me is its quiet, unobtrusive way of sneaking in the back door with a message to impact the world-weary. I hope the message behind the message is communicated unthreateningly, and is one which will even provide balm, light, understanding and true hope to those who feel overwhelmed by our seeming aloneness in the world. You are a cherished friend, and thank you for commenting.
Great to find some jazz around here. Thanks, Morris.
Thanks, Ken. Music fans unite! It’s really a pretty song, isn’t it? Spalding is a mega talent out of Boston’s Berklee School of Music and won the 2011 Grammy for best new artist, beating out an unknown named Justin Bieber. Go figure. Here’s how cleverly his shutout was reported to the UK music fans in The Guardian: “The seemingly unstoppable Justin Bieber has been stopped. Last night the 16-year-old Canadian pop sensation hit the 53rd Grammy music awards with all he had. Starting with an acoustic version of his mega-hit Baby, bringing on the ninja drummers, rapping with Will Smith’s son Jaden and ending with a dance with his mentor, R&B singer Usher. But the die was cast. Esperanza Spalding, a 26-year-old jazz star from Oregon, beat the mop-topped heart-throb to win best new act as a million Bieber fans asked ‘who?'” I’ll say who, won’t you, Ken?
Morris:
What a skillful way to insert the hope of our faith into a stalwart literary enterprise. What significant insights into the dilemma of modern mankind’s piecemeal hope. You challenged the anemia of hollow solutions with the promises of an overarching Gospel. And all of that with a warm, charitable, gracious spirit. Your piece has the feel and appeal of those literary jostling of C. S. Lewis, Eliot, Tolkien, etc. Thank you for including me in your readership.
So, congratulations on this first assignment with Mockingbird. I’m sure they have decided already that this should be just the first of many more. To say you write incredibly well is merely to state the obvious. Write on!
And this is high praise indeed, coming from the guy who helped me own, confess, then say goodbye to a long string of gnarly high school-era sins! Thank you, The Rev. Mr. Fleming, for your kind, articulate words, and for the important role you played in building my faith as my minister and friend during those brittle, challenging formative years. You did well.
Morris, yeah, having lived in Boston I know Berklee, and I remember that happy upset. As much as I appreciate Spalding’s talent (and this song), I’m not a big fan of her solo work. I’d rather hear her with Joe Lovano. But that just shows the limits of my taste. As a jazz fan who doesn’t quite understand why more smart young listeners don’t dig into the music, I’m happy there is a young, charismatic woman on the scene who is garnering lots of press.
Ken! Spalding initially traded on her great skill and training as a bassist but strayed into vocals later as she gained confidence and popularity. Most of her earlier works are instrumental. You’d probably like her new 2012 album, Radio Music Society. Its first cut, “Radio Song,” is bound to be a crossover hit. Trading on an intoxicating beat, it is this story: guy on the highway driving himself “through the hard times” flips on the radio, gets blown away by an infectious tune. “This song will keep you grooving, played to lift your spirits (as if they knew you), this song’s the one!” When the part he likes comes up his skin starts bristling and he just can’t help singing along alone in his car. We’ve all been there. Interestingly, the deejay at the station is said to be sending “sweet salvation” when he plays the tune. Whoa. There’s a Mockingbird-themed message in there! “Sing it loud with love in your heart, it can surely save the day,” are among the song’s final lyrics. Sounds like another article. I’ve heard the Mockingbird singing that one, indeed.
Esperanza on Mockingbird! All right, Morris. As a jazz lover myself, I’ve been listening to a lot of her excellent music in recent times. But I’ve been so taken by the music itself that I haven’t really checked out any lyrics. Thanks for the wonderful reflections on the words.
And yes, Ken, I hope that she continues to do stuff like play with Joe Lovano. I recently read of a trio thing she’s doing with pianist Geri Allen and the great drummer Terri Lyne Carrington. Look out!
I recently read of a trio thing she’s doing with pianist Geri Allen and the great drummer Terri Lyne Carrington. Look out!
You bet I’ll be looking out for that. Allen’s a big favorite.Thanks!
I shared this piece with a most intelligent and thoughtful friend in her 80’s, and she responded:
Well Morris, I hardly know what to say. I’m not a great fan of modern jazz, nor of emptying oneself out in a semi-public way whether in music or art, on blogs or Facebook. I have never traveled alone, I can’t remember being in a hotel room without some family member or friend down the hall or next door. I admire those who are able to do so, but I know I would be too lonely and frightened.
My nature is to always hold back from the edge, and to take steps to heal myself. If sad, I try to go where there are “happy” people, or if there are no people to go to, then look at something funny on TV, or read something funny, or go to the computer and answer email, or work on one of many unfinished projects which will probably always remain unfinished. Also, I have lived long enough to know that the tide will change. That if I hang on, if I look around me and find something I can do, something that needs doing, my mood will change.
If sad, and alone, if feeling hopeless — and all of us have had these feelings — I would NEVER listen to a song with lyrics like this one.
So you see I’m really not qualified to comment on your piece. It was hard for me to read because I kept thinking, “this is unhealthy.”
Your ending where you appear to be saved from “the window” by your faith in Christ is very nice.
Younger people who are jazz enthuists will undoublely have a different view.
I guess what I’m thinking is that this kind of business is self indulgent. Forgive me, but that’s what I think.
If I weren’t your good friend I wouldn’t feel I could be so honest with you. Please do not be offended.
“Mary”
And I responded:
Dear “Mary,”
Thanks for your honesty. I am completely un offended.
Mockingbird is a Christian ministry in Charlottesville, Virginia. Its theme is promoting God’s grace, and it trades on coming in the back door with the Gospel message through relating it to elements of the popular culture (like music, films, and television). It is predicated upon the observation that Christians do not fully enough lavish in that grace.
The experience related in the piece was certainly not my personal one. I was using those very bleak lyrics as a point of departure to relay the message of the redemption of human hopelessness in the atoning work of Christ. The thematic idea was to illustrate the way a secular culture applies shoulder-to-the-wheel human grit to an unhappiness problem only God can solve.
Then the goal was to gently point the reader toward A Better Way without being condemning to him or applying conventionally preachy, bromidic bon mots about Jesus. The ears of the world have been muted to that kind of evangelizing within the pop church because its credibility has been lost in the formulaic, methodical style of relaying a Truth that is neither formulaic nor methodical.
As for self indulgence, we are living in a culture where that is the watchword. The idea here was less one of Morris’ whining about the ills of human existence and more one of his gently pointing the way — to those sick of its empty promises — toward something I, in my Christianity, have found to be the answer to such hopelessness.
You are right. Those lyrics are unhealthy because they reflect a humankind soldiering on in its own power, not God’s, to find meaning and hope in a meaningless, hopeless universe. To my way of thinking, man’s finding a meaningful solution to the hopelessness of life is itself quite hopeless without man’s first finding God.
I appreciate your responding, and doing so so honestly. Nothing you could ever say would offend me.
Love,
Morris
Well done!!! Unbelievable insight you have & this crystal clear message you are relaying is beyond anything I have ever read. Loved it. This is genious & yes, I do know the writer & yes, he is a genious!
Thank you, Karen, but — really — I’m certainly no genius. I’m just a guy. But it is great to have the peace of Christ and His assurance that It Is Well regardless of the circumstances. Wonderful, lifelong friends like you (who do my PR for me) are few and far between! And you too know Whom you have believed. Blessings and love, always.