Sermon Archive

Deep River

© by the Reverend Dr. Byron E. Shafer

(Rutgers, January 9, 2000; Baptism of the Lord Sunday, Year B;
 Renewal of Baptismal Vows; Holy Communion)

Genesis 1:1–5 (OT, p. 1);  Mark 1:4–11 (NT, p. 35)

 

(Bibliography:  Howard Thurman, Deep River and The Negro 

Spiritual Speaks of Life and Death [Richmond, IN: Friends United Press, 1975]; 

and James Cone, The Spirituals and the Blues [New York: Seabury Press, 1972])

 

“Deep river, my home is over Jordan,
Deep river, Lord, I want to cross over into camp ground.
Oh don’t you want to go to that gospel feast,
That promised land where all is peace?
Oh deep river, Lord, I want to cross over into camp ground.”

These are the words that will be sung this morning when,

following this sermon, you come forward by all three aisles

as part of our ritual of baptismal renewal.

And they are the words that have been sung here

on many past Baptism of the Lord Sundays as well.

They are the words of “Deep River,”

one of the most beloved of all Negro spirituals,

those spontaneous outflowings of religious fervor that came

from the souls of slaves during the era before the Civil War,

some 150 to 200 years ago.

Negro spirituals are sacred folk songs. As such,

they were not “composed” in any formal sense of that term.

Rather, they sprang to life from the deep spiritual passions

that were fanned to flame when slaves gathered

for seasons of worship either in a church

or in the setting of a camp meeting, a camp ground.

“Deep River,” with its slow, sustained, long-phrased melody,

was one of the songs of sorrow that nonetheless conveyed

to all who were weary of heart

the unmistakable underlying message of hope and faith

in the ultimate justice of things, in the coming of a time

when all would be able to cross their River Jordans

and enter into lands of promise and peace.

In singing “Deep River,” those who had been

spiritually and physically exhausted by the vicissitudes of life

experienced, washing over them,

a fresh flood of strength and power.

For “Deep River” preached the gospel implicit in all of the spirituals:

the good news that “In the eyes of God, you’re a person of worth.

Like Jesus, you’ve been created in God’s image.

Like Jesus, you’re a child of God.

Like Jesus, you’ve been washed in the waters of Jordan.

Like Jesus, you’ve been filled by the Holy Spirit.

Like Jesus, you’ll get across to the other side.”

The slaves of the ante-bellum South derived the raw materials

for their spirituals from three basic sources:

the Bible, personal experience, and nature.

And “Deep River” draws from all three of these sources.

The image of crossing the River Jordan to enter the Promised Land

comes from the Old Testament book of Joshua, in which

the people of Israel, who have escaped slavery in Egypt,

ford the Jordan near the city of Jericho and for the first time

enter the promised land “flowing with milk and honey,”

the land of their ancestors, Abraham and Sarah.

And in the Negro slaves’ religious imagination

that Old Testament story of Israel’s crossing of the Jordan

to reach the Promised Land was closely linked to   

the New Testament story of Jesus’s wading into the Jordan

to be baptized and filled with the Holy Spirit

as he embarks on his life’s course—

the story told in this morning’s lesson from Mark.

Now, the slaves in the ante-bellum South went on to interpret these

biblical stories in the light of their own personal experiences. 

On the political and social level, the deep river to be crossed

was a quite literal body of water located in this physical world.

For the longed-for home, the beckoning camp ground

that lay on the other side of that river, was

the North, the free states that lay beyond the Ohio River,

or Canada, that nation beyond the St. Lawrence River,

or Africa, that continent beyond the great ocean.

And on a second level of experience—the religious—the deep river

was the waters of baptism,

of dying to this sorrow-filled physical world

and of being reborn to the spiritual world.

For the longed-for home, the beckoning camp ground

that lay on the other side of that river, was heaven, where

freedom and equality would include everybody, where

mother + father + sister + brother had gone before

and the company of family would be reunited.

So on the one hand, spirituals are about

a longing for liberation in this world;

and on the other hand, they are also about finding consolation

in heaven, where, in the end, justice will surely prevail.

For, the slaves had come to understand

that life, to draw on an image from nature, is like a river,

that just as all waters come from the sea and go to the sea,

so, too, life comes from God and goes to God.

The source of life is God, and the goal of life is God.

And the river that flows from God to God,

the river in which we need to be immersed

if we are to reach the other side—that river

is a life filled by the power of the Holy Spirit,

filled by the power given to us in baptism.

Many of us here today are, I believe, experiencing exhaustion,

spiritual and physical exhaustion from the vicissitudes of life.

And my prayer for us this morning is that during the renewal of

our baptismal vows and the singing of “Deep River,”

each of us will experience, washing over us,

a fresh flood of the Spirit’s power.

And many of us here today are, I believe, experiencing

doubts about our self-worth.

So my other prayer this morning is that during the renewal

of our baptismal vows and the singing of “Deep River,”

each of us will hear afresh this good news:

“In the eyes of God, you’re a person of worth.

Like Jesus, you’ve been created in God’s image.

Like Jesus, you’re a child of God.

Like Jesus, you’ve been washed

in the waters of Jordan.

Like Jesus, you’ve been filled

by the Holy Spirit. 

Like Jesus, you’ll get across

to the other side.”

So, I invite us now to join together in renewing our baptismal vows

+ in experiencing afresh the strength and power of the Holy Spirit

that carries us from God to God through the river of life.

 

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