I guess we’ll start with a version of that puzzle you’ve probably seen in which you’re asked to pick the item that doesn’t belong with the rest. Here’s one:
Which one of the following does not belong with the others?
Binoculars, eyeglasses, goggles, handlebars, jeans, pliers, scissors, shoes, tweezers
Answer: The word “shoes” is the only “pair” that actually has 2 separate pieces.
(I didn’t get this one right, picking “jeans.”)
Of all the spirituals I’ve sung with my own choir, this one, with its slow pace and minor key, conveys the feelings of an oppressed people the most strongly. It’s not just a series of complaints or calls for help, though. There’s a lot of scriptural truth packed into it.
Let me start out with the meaning of “rock.” As in “Elijah Rock,” the overall reference is to God, but this song spells out a couple of specific ones. God is “a rock in a weary land.” You might think that the word “weary” was put there by the slaves who sang it, but it’s straight from the book of Isaiah in the old King James Version: “The shadow of a rock in a weary land.” Other translations substitute the word “desert” or “parched” for “weary.” So the original meaning probably doesn’t have anything to do with actual physical weariness, but that aspect must have appealed to people whose lives were one great stretch of it. The idea of shade and rest is implicit in the text, as is that of protection: “a shelter in the time of storm” is also from Isaiah. It’s not at all uncommon, by the way, for us to say, “He’s my rock” to refer to a person in our lives who keeps us on track and is always dependable