During an all-night service in Jacmel, Haiti—known as jenn or veydenwit—worshippers raise their hands and chant upbeat lyrics to the sounds of boisterous drums and tambourines.
Select worshippers, or “heavenly armies,” begin to spin and dance themselves into a trance-like state, seemingly unaware of anyone or anything around them. The sounds and rituals of the ceremony favor traditional Haitian music and rhythms of Carnival and konpa, allowing army members to wage “spiritual warfare” to protect the congregation against Satan and demonic spirits. During the worship, no one questions the intense spiritual fight—it is understood that members are “filled”—allowing them to heal, prophesize and protect the congregation.
To some Haitians, the rituals and music of heavenly armies blur the lines between Protestant Christianity and the folk religion known as Voodoo or Vodou. According to Melvin Butler, associate professor of musicology at the University of Miami’s Frost School of Music, the perpetual fears of these independent congregations may be equivocal, at best.
Within Pentecostal practice around the globe and in Haiti, music is imperative—serving as the vessel for the transcendence of the Holy Spirit—for divine encounters during worship. When “filled” by the Spirit, worshippers may speak in tongues or theatrically clap and dance. Though Pentecostals share similar theological beliefs as many other denominations of Christianity, the energy and intensity of their musical worship often sets them apart.
Unlike the culturally rooted rhythms found within the rituals of the heavenly armies, many Pentecostal Christians channel the musical influences of U.S. counterparts. Often incorporating keyboards and drum sets, the sounds of worship can vary from upbeat to meditative. Even within Haitian Pentecostal worship, churches are deemed as “hot” or “cold” based on the musical selection of the congregation.
These designations often add another level of complexity when attempting to signal the differences between independent heavenly army churches and organized Pentecostal congregations, even for Butler. He recalls attending service within a “hot” Pentecostal church in Jacmel, where emphasis was placed on lively musical activity, yet the Pastor frequently preached against involvement in Carnival, rara processionals, and Vodou.
“Soon into the service I realized that, theologically, the worship wasn’t what I knew as Pentecostal, but for many Haitians, the music is what defined their beliefs,” says Butler.
Even before embarking on field research in Haiti, Butler knew first-hand of the country’s internal battle with varying musical styles. As a saxophonist, he first traveled to Haiti in the early 1990s while on tour with Tabou Combo, a renowned Haitian dance band. The band's music, known as konpa, channeled the sounds of Haitian culture and native life on the island. Debates about konpa are key to understanding the divide between the musical preferences of organized congregations and independent heavenly armies. The experience would serve as Butler’s introduction to the fraught coexistence of popular music and charismatic worship within Haiti.
Even on his most recent research trip in 2015, to Port-au-Prince and Jacmel, Butler was continuously confronted with the balance of shared cultural identities within Pentecostal Haiti. Aside from the transcendent fight through music and worship, the independent congregations and heavenly armies battle to maintain a place within Haitian culture and religion.
Generally equipped with a recording device for research when attending services, Butler notes that “there were lots of times when recording a piece of music did not provide all of the answers, nor did it offer a complete picture of what the experience of these kinds of rituals entail."
"Music is but one piece—albeit a vital one—of a broader constellation of activities that give worship services meaning and significance,” he adds.
Often stigmatized and misunderstood, Vodou's narrative is further nuanced by Butler's research. By exploring the relevance of musical sounds as the catalyst for worship and cultural expression, Butler sheds important light on the diversity and complexity of religious worship in Haiti.
- JENNIFER PALMA / UM News
Father, Father Father, attack those who despise
me.
Fight against those who make war.
Recorded in Jacmel, Haiti, in 2001, “Papa, Papa, Papa,” is from a "heavenly army" congregation, and the lyrics are based on Psalm 35:1. This piece as an example of spiritual warfare through music and calls upon God to “attack” (atake) evil spirits and individuals of misfortune. The chorus is typically repeated several times as a way of building musical intensity and emphasizing the meaning of the text. The song is sung most often, says Butler, during the loudest and most intense moments of worship services, when singing and bodily movement are highly energetic and emotional.
