Frequencies of faith: JaQuan Beachem on community and spiritual formation

The Rev. JaQuan Beachem ’21 M.Div. can be found in his office at Andover Newton Seminary at YDS, unless he is leading a yoga class in Marquand Chapel, or presiding as minister of the weekly Emmaus Gathering worship service, or consulting on campus iconography, or experimenting with music to enhance healing and liturgical connection between strangers.

All these efforts are part of JaQuan’s work on the Quad, where he is Associate Dean for Community Development and Spiritual Formation at ANS. To his vocational vision he brings experience in theater and music, as well as a varied Protestant background (“I’m kind of a ‘Bapti-costal-non-denom’”). Ordained in the United Church of Christ and a graduate of Bard College (theater and performance major), he is keenly interested in the spiritual power of the arts to create spaces that attract people whether for celebration or grief. As a YDS (and ANS) student he was a curator of the sonic-healing record Gilead (link is external).^[1] Released during the pandemic, Gilead has been used in hospice and hospital settings.

Raised in Atlanta, JaQuan is a vocalist who takes inspiration (sonic and sermonic) from John Coltrane, Sarah Vaughan, Duke Ellington, Langston Hughes, James Baldwin, Howard Thurman, and many others. The following is an edited version of a recent conversation with Reflections editor Ray Waddle.

Q: What are you listening to these days?

JaQuan Beachem: The sound of windchimes and grass is my favorite music right now, because I’m thinking about how to curate classroom spaces. I use sonics that are contemplative and calming and invite nature in some way so that we can go deeper within. Some of these sounds relate to the 432 Hz frequency, which is associated with the healing vibrations of nature.

Otherwise, I’m a little all over the map. I like pop, indie soul, and music with a bounce to it. I love Beyoncé. I enjoy musicals and experimental creations. As for worship, the gospel oldies take me there every time, songs that also connect me with my grandparents, whether at church or in the kitchen.

Q: Are sonics emerging as a new form of pastoral care?

JB: It’s new and it’s old. The arts are so powerful—music in particular contains frequencies and harmonics that draw us together. Especially as we think of the unchurched, it’s important that we build a musical repertoire that connects us, soothes us, and reaches back to those who came before us—I think of Negro spirituals that communicate across time and space and geographies. Music can hold spaces that become occasions of connection between strangers. Suddenly you might say to the person next to you, Oh, you know that hymn, too? You love that artist as well? Music reminds us we’re in this together, we’re not alone. In palliative and pastoral care, sometimes sonics can fill the space when we no longer have the words.

Q: The world is an anxious, spiritually perilous place right now. How do individuals navigate through the noise and still recognize divine signals?

JB: Yes, the world is coming at us full force and sharp, and it feels like we can’t get a break—but it’s so good to remember that God is still calling individuals into ministry. We still need communities of care, whether in congregations, synagogues, spiritual wellness centers, or other spaces. We all need conversation partners. I believe in an incarnational faith, a faith that is embodied in us when we care for self in a holistic way and communicate care to others, especially in times of crisis and concern. Faith is embodied when we talk with one another and not at one another, when we really lift the humanity in each of us and the divinity within each of us. The people being called here at YDS and Andover Newton might not always “look like a minister” (whatever that means!). That’s not for us to decide. Reminders of incarnation are truly necessary as we co-create with God and one another. 

Q: You co-teach class annually on vocational discernment. What kinds of ministerial intuitions are students bringing today?

JB: Students come to us because the Divine has nudged them—they sense an inkling. This includes students who find their way to us who might not have a church background: they too hear a still small voice, ignited by a justice question or a liberation orientation or a desire to pursue civic engagement around a very special cause. We’re here to equip and inspire these future leaders of faith, whether they move into congregations, classroom settings, the nonprofit sector, the workplace, farming, or any other work. Faith leaders are asking the questions of our time.

Q: You’ve talked about the need to slow down and do “one thing at time” as a Christian practice. Maybe easier said than done?

JB: Yes, it’s hard to trust that idea! We’d rather try to do as many things as possible all the time. But this is why embodiments of faith are needed and why sonics are needed. Howard Thurman is a great mentor of mine in this practice, and he urged the idea of centering down. ^[2]

We’re invited at this moment to slow down, and that’s not easy, because we’re all part cyborg at this point with our smartphones and AI. We want to be cutting edge and innovative—and we will be—but we’ll be more innovative if we ask and discern: What is our estuary, the ecosystem in which we pursue our work, and what is our role to play in this time? If all of us contribute our gifts of expertise and wisdom to these large questions, we’ll be able to do God’s work here and now. All these are practices. When we try to do everyone’s work, or try to do all the work ourselves, we can lose sight of that.

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