The homegoing of aretha franklin

Aretha Franklin’s homegoing was one of the top three Blackest things to happen in 2018, and it wasn’t three. Scheduled for six-and-a-half hours, but running closer to ten, it was a masterclass of the Black church aesthetic and a fitting celebration of Aretha’s legacy. On what would have been Aretha’s 78th birthday, I reminisced on the last time the Queen held court.

Aretha Franklin’s homegoing was one of the top three Blackest things to happen in 2018, and it wasn’t three. Scheduled for six-and-a-half hours but running closer to ten, it was a masterclass of the Black church aesthetic and a fitting celebration of Aretha’s legacy. It was at once joyous and sorrowful, reflective and boisterous. Opulent with the classic grace we had come to expect from the Queen of Soul. Those not as familiar with this aspect of Black culture might have been surprised at the pomp and circumstance. It might have looked like more of a scene from a movie or a Broadway show than a funeral.

That’s because it wasn’t a funeral. It was a fune. And arguably one of the most lavish ones the world had ever seen.

Truth be told, I love a good Black-ass church service. I grew up attending the kind of churches where funeral home fans kept congregations cool when the air conditioner was faulty. Churches where ornate hats blocked views of the pulpit but not the feeling in the air when the tone of service shifted from a steady cruise to a high-frequency sort of buzz that could send the seasoned saints into a shout. Funes tend to represent the very best of this kind of environment, or at the very least, they show the Black church at its Blackest and churchiest moments.

And then, because it was truly representative of the fullness of the experience and culture displayed at funerals, there were also some cringe-worthy moments. One was the presiding bishop’s awkward handling of Ariana Grande, even as she tried to lean away from him. The other was a eulogy that didn’t seem to even be about Aretha Franklin. One that was filled with so many respectability politics concerning the Black community that I thought I was watching the Tomming portion of a Blue Lives Matter rally. Then, when it finally began to center Aretha, the commentary included thoughts about the inability of women to raise men, as if Aretha Franklin herself had not done this very thing.

We know the Blood still works because I still haven’t seen any reports of the family running him the fade he severely deserved. Fortunately, Michael Eric Dyson and several others had given beautiful remarks, and Stevie Wonder brought it home for all of us. We won’t discuss that performance of “Going Up Yonder.” Not even going to link it here.

All in all, it was the kind of service fit to send a Queen and the best voice to ever grace God’s green earth on to the Everlasting. And in a time where people grasp and claw at the title of “queen” superficially, with weeping and the gnashing of teeth and often without consistent, solid substance, Aretha showed us that she could still hold court, even when she had already gone to be with the Lord.

*Originally posted on GoodCulture.Life