Over the past number of weeks, I have been accompanying a choir that is learning a group of Spirituals for an upcoming concert. As I played through them this week, I realized that this is one of my favourites.  It is a beautiful tune – haunting and powerful.

As many of us know, these Spirituals were originally more than just religious songs.  They were filled with hidden meanings and messages that became important ways of both communication and strength for the African American slaves that sang them. This one is no different.  What on the surface implies the spiritual act of dying and being received into Jesus’ arms in heaven, is also representative of the actual act of escaping the bonds of slavery, travelling via the Underground Railroad into freedom.  It was also used as a signal by Virginia slave Nat Turner, and probably others, to gather slaves together to discuss their plans.

Steal away, steal away,
steal away to Jesus!
Steal away, steal away home;
I ain’t got long to stay here.

My Lord, he calls me;
he calls me by the thunder.
The trumpet sounds within my soul;
I ain’t got long to stay here.

Green trees are bending;
poor sinners stand a trembling.
The trumpet sounds within my soul;
I ain’t got long to stay here

My Lord, he calls me;
he calls me by the lightning.
The trumpet sounds within my soul;
I ain’t got long to stay here.

There was a lot of listening involved in sending these secret messages.  Those for whom they were intended were acutely aware that there was something coming; something that could potentially save them; something that offered a way out of a horrific situation.  They were looking for hope – listening for instructions.  There was also a lot of wisdom and courage required for those that sent these messages.  The ability to craft their words of hope so they could be received and heard; the ability to stand in the face of danger and speak, or sing, for the benefit of others. And there was faith.  Faith that someone at the other end would actually see the trees bending and open their arms, or homes, to those stealing away.  Trusting that safety and freedom were more than idealized concepts, but were possible and real.

As I think about these words and their powerful history, several things come to mind.  The power of hope is tremendous.  To say over and over, “I ain’t got long to stay here,” in the face of seemingly immovable circumstances, is beyond impressive.  To know that despite requiring monumental acts of courage and trust, there is something beyond your view that provokes trumpets, thunder and lightning in your soul, is inspiring.   The power of hope is also a gift given. Those who made the Underground Railway possible were giving hope – in the face of real danger.  All of this hope was both secret and loud, shared and individual.  They sang, they listened, they received.

There are, no doubt, many problems in our world that seem insurmountable.  There are parts of our history that have unresolved consequences and looking at one Spiritual doesn’t change that.  But there is something to be said for understanding the beautiful example that these people provided to us.  It is possible to look for, seek out and believe in hope.  It is possible to find those among us who can help provide its view; help us clarify its existence.  It is also possible to be the hope.  To look for, seek out and believe in the realities that need it most.

We all find ourselves on different sides of this equation at various points in our lives. Sometimes we need hope, sometimes we give hope. Both can be hard.  But, either way, it is our home that we are seeking. A home is built on the knowledge that all within are safe.  I’ve often wondered if safety for the few is shallow and unstable, whereas safety for all is filled with a kind of strength that most of us deeply desire. Perhaps this is what gives us the motivation we need to accomplish what can sometimes seem impossible.

So, in even the smallest of ways, I wish for us to steal away to the place where hope resides.  Look for it when we need it and give it when we are able. Hopelessness is not a home.  We are called to something better and we can both provide the path to find it, and choose to walk towards it.  Together.