The other day, I was scrolling through Instagram and saw a video that had this incredible, gospel choir singing and clapping in the background. At the time, I couldn’t make out the lyrics. I only heard the cadences, the rhythms, and I knew immediately it was some kind of gospel arrangement, and I loved it. I let my adhd brain carry me without hesitation, and in an instant I had clicked on the sound and traced it to its origin: a video that was filmed live in Paris at one of Kanye West’s Sunday Service Concerts. The arrangement had been entitled “Lord You’re Holy Ballin,’” which made me chuckle. I hit play and turned up the volume.
A large choir, all Black men and women dressed in matching light brown robes and necklaces encircled a man at the piano and another man standing near it atop a stool addressing the crowd, which filled the venue around the stage on ground level as well the amphitheater-like seating several floors above the singers. Speaking without a microphone, he shouted out welcomes to the crowd, inviting everyone to enjoy the experience, also saying, “We are here, we are here today to praise the name of Jesus.” He slows his speech and pauses as the choir shouts around him in agreement and excitement, and the piano repeats the same cycle of chords, slowly building in volume and expanding in rhythm. “Every knee shall bow” *crowd cheers* “Every tongue shall confess” *more shouts* “That Jesus is Lord” *”yess, amen!’* “He saves. He delivers. And He is here for you today.” More joyful shouts erupt one at a time, and a few people have started clapping. The man who has been speaking takes on the role of leading them, “It’s time to go higher,” he says, “Let’s put our hands together,” and he does the big, overhead claps and begins to sway. The closest thing I can think of from my experience is when the orchestra conductor raises her baton before the start of a song, but this song had already started. He was merely turning up the volume, stirring up the crowd, allowing every voice to come together, not in conformity, but in uniformity.
Just after a minute in, at his invitation for the true praise to begin, the clapping explodes. *clap* “hey!” *clap* “hey!” and then some of the choir beginning to clap on the half beats, in eights and triplets and sixteenths, breaking the rhythm up, syncopating it but not losing control. The leader makes a churning motion with his arms, and the choir leans into the circle and sings, “We put on the whole armor of the King so that we can stand and fight against the enemy.” The flow of the lyrics is different from the rhythmic clapping, but takes on a life of its own, seeming to float above the steadiness of the claps. The stress in those lines is on the first syllable of “armor,” on the “of” and on the consonant at the beginning of the “King,” having sort a percussive sound, a strong sound much like you would expect of anyone going into battle. There is a confidence in what they’re singing. They aren’t afraid. And they aren’t afraid precisely because of the armor of the King. The rest of that line is sang quickly, just as the start of it was. The listeners get the exposition they need to truly appreciate the significance of the stressed, and therefore most important, details of the song’s story and call.
Excitement builds as the singing continues, elaborating on this assurance they have, the smiles on their faces as they sing: “Though weapons they may form, but won’t succeed, we already declare the victory.” The same rhythm and cadence continues here, the stress falling on the start of the word “form,” “won’t,” and the second half of “succeed.” Then the second half of “declare” and the start of victory. The sheer speed at which the choir acknowledges that weapons may form shows that this is merely a fact they have accepted, but it’s not the point. The point is that they won’t succeed, that victory is already won. Just like how in the first few lines, the emphasis and stress was on the armor, and specifically the armor of the King. So although this conjures up sort of old testament battle imagery, it’s much less about the battle than about the victory; much more focused on redemption and withstanding than launching an offensive against the enemy. The song itself is not lengthy. We are already about halfway through. And although they will repeat these lines several more times, although the story does not change, it somehow becomes more precious the more it is spoken. The cameras from above show the choir swaying more and more, and close-up views show smiling faces, including Kanye’s. The members sway toward and away from one another, brushing up against each other, but never overcrowding one another. It’s as if all those singing are singing not only to God, but to one another. They celebrate the King’s victory, but they also rejoice because this victory is one they share together. The call and response is not just between God and the choir, the choir leader and the rest of the singers, but between brother and brother and sister and sister and sister and brother in Christ. The first time I watched the video, I hadn’t even noticed Kanye was even there. He is standing beside the piano, but he does not have a mic. He is often not even singing. Just clapping and watching the choir explode around him.
The second part of the song goes like this: “Let the redeemed of the Lord tell their stories. By His grace, we are walking testimonies. For thine is the kingdom and glory. And we’ll praise you, Lord, forever ‘cus You’re holy, yeaaaaa.” The patterns of stress and emphasis vary a bit here. The consonants at the start of many of the words are stressed naturally anyway, but they stand out rhythmically as well. In that first sentence, it flows like this (brackets and caps to try to show emphasis): “[L]et [T]he [R]e[DEEM]ed of the [LORD] tell their [STOR]ies…” The volume of the choir has increased, and you can tell this section is especially a conversation between the believers themselves, the co-victors in Christ urging one another to testify to and continue to experience what He has done. They continue, “By His [Gr]ace we are [WALK]ing testi[MO]nies.” I think the intentionality of volume and stress in these places is designed to point to God’s work, not their own, even though this is their story to tell. Part of the joy is in getting to share what has been done FOR them, not BY them. They recognize that in telling their story, they are pointing beyond themselves, which is also expressed in the next line, an excerpt from The Lord’s Prayer: “For [THINE] is the [KING]dom and the [GLO]ry. And we’ll [P]raise you [LORD] for[EVER] cus You’re [HOL]y.” All of these places of emphasis are either verbs, actions taken toward or in response to God, or nouns/pronounces referring to God and His characteristics. It’s a beautiful way of celebrating personal victories and placing them in the larger context of the One who made those victories possible. And it’s beautiful that this happens in community, which is visually highlighted by the stage and the circular arrangement of each member around a single piano. The voices and the claps of people carry this song. The piano is just there for decoration, really.
After this first run through these lyrics, there are several bars of the piano riffing and the clapping, this time with more and more spontaneous shouts of praise. One can argue this is merely a concert, or at least that is how we would classify it. It’s not really a church service. But I don’t think that also means this isn’t true praise. I have now listened to this song dozens of times, and each time, goosebumps spread down my arms and legs and I am filled with joy. It’s been years and years and years since I have encountered anything I would consider even close to “Holy Spirit goosebumps,” but I know without a doubt that what this song points to is something anointed. It matters to me very little what the intention is for Kanye, for the leader of this choir or its members, or of the “audience” standing around watching this take place. What matters to me is the words they are singing, the truth of them, the fact that this song cannot be heard without some kind of response. Even the most non-religious, skeptical person could, I hope at least, find joy in the sound of this song, in the way the choir moves together full of strength and joy. I recognize that Kanye is a controversial figure to say the least. I don’t agree with how he handles his personal life, and I don’t excuse his narcissism and abusive behaviors. But I do also believe that he has had some kind of experience with God, that there is some part of him that wants to live differently, wants to call out the problems in the world and point to God as a solution. It’s entirely possible for someone to be learning and growing and also still making big mistakes. And his mental health is not an excuse, but it also shouldn’t be used to discount him from sharing his experiences both personally and professionally as a musician. For the church to discount his testimony because of his past, present, or future episodes of mania is not only deeply ableist, but downright judgemental and unloving. We can call out an individual’s behavior as a Christian, but we don’t get to make guesses about the nature of someone’s relationship with God. But that’s just my opinion on Kanye, and perhaps I’m just saying that because I fear people will discount what I’m saying here simply because his name is associated with it. Don’t misread me giving him a pass on any of his many public sins, if we want to call them that.
This video has been viewed 12 million times since it was posted 2 years ago on Youtube. Under the comments, person after person shares their stories. Some have returned to the faith. Some have left but find beauty in it still. I was surprised the number of positive comments. The point is that this resonates with people. It rings true even if we might disagree on how. There is something powerful that is either happening here or is represented in this sort of musical and spiritual encounter. For me, it is because of the way this type of musical expression has its roots in the Black church, which understands oppression as well as victory in ways I never will. It reminds me as a white Christian that one day EVERY knee will bow and EVERY tongue will confess that He is Lord. Every nation, tribe and tongue will be represented in God’s Kingdom in the future, and we’re commanded to share the Gospel and join in unity with people of all backgrounds NOW as well, not just in heaven. I have no idea what heaven will be like, but I hope it has the spirit embodied in this – men and women moving and singing together in the love of God and of one another, their very lives testifying to the Grace which has already won.
Deep Words of Life 