N—, we gon' be alright
N—, we gon' be alright
We gon' be alright
Do you hear me, do you feel me? We gon' be alright..
—Kendrick Lamar

I’ve been playing this song on repeat. There is something profoundly joyful, powerful about being alright in the midst of brutality. It is hope.

@ProfessorEA in a recent essay reflects deeply on the meaning of Kendrick’s ode to freedom—an epistle of love, liberation. She writes, “‘Alright’ has been the anthem of many protests against racism and police violence and unjust treatment.” It is this generations Spirituals.

The young one flying in Lamar’s video is “joyful and defiant, rising above the streets that might claim him, his body liberated and autonomous.” To be free is not simply an affirmation but an living expression, a discipline, a practice, a dance. It is profoundly spiritual.

Then things change: a police officer raises a finger to the young man in the sky and pulls the trigger.

The one flying falls—like Maya Angelou’s Caged Bird—and lands. “The gun was a finger; the flying young man appears safe” she writes, ”He does not get up.”

In the end of what she calls, “this dream”, the young one opens his eyes, smiles. Death? No. Life.

“Black celebration” Alexander concludes, “is a village practice that has brought us together in protest and ecstasy around the globe and across time.” Joy is a weapon of love.

In this moment, there is a profound intimacy. The beauty of this moment showed that suffering is not the total image. This is a moment of faith. What is compelling is the unexpected glimpse we get of the inner dimensions of their public bravery—the willingness to rise again.

There is something about this song and image that calls out to us to sit still, be brave; it calls us to quiet anticipation. But the call to the quiet is not reservation to the chaos or confusion of life. It is a call to radical trust, radical faith in the midst of darkness.

It tells a story. Inside of this song are the hopes, the dreams, the freedom of those bound. It is joy unspeakable. Mary’s Magnificat has become our own: He has brought down mighty from their thrones, and lifted up the lowly. He has kept the promise he made to our ancestors.

It tells us, as Paul Tillich, writes, “You Are Accepted!” Loved by a God who stands in Christ with us in a loveless world, in the midst of tears, rage, death—a God who promises to shepherd us, restore our joy, liberate the world to beauty.

Kendrick is right: we gon be alright.