A Lesson from the Life of Bishop Walter Hawkins (Video)

During the 1970’s, I was a child growing up in Small-town, South Carolina. Consistent with African American music tradition in the South, my musical environment was governed by common-meter hymns, weekly choir parades; shall we say, strange harmony; and, of course, good ‘ol quartet music. But as much as those traditions were beloved in my community, I was never able to wrap myself around them. I got so much greater satisfaction from listening to the many albums and 8-track tapes in our living room. Believe me, there was no shortage of great music in that collection! But of all the great music that was contained in our library, one artist was glaringly outstanding. Even through my juvenile ears, there was something special about the music of Walter Hawkins.

When I first heard Love Alive I, I was much too young to comprehend or appreciate the greatness of what I was absorbing. My only recognition was that each time I heard the record, it inexplicably seemed to change my inner atmosphere. As much as I hated having to do Saturday morning chores, even they were made palatable by the sound of Walter Hawkins and the Hawkins Family resonating throughout the house.

What was it about this guy with the impeccably relaxed hair, the high pitched voice, flanked by his brothers on piano and organ, and his sisters as backup singers? His music was fresh. It was captivating. It was anointed. Only in retrospect did I discover that as deep calls unto deep, it was the depth of his music reaching into the depths of my soul, extracting a love for music, a passion for perfection, and an attitude of excellence that would be a part of me from those days forward. And although I was completely oblivious to what was happening, the foundation for much of my life was being laid through the very gift of Walter Hawkins.

As much as God impregnates all of us with gifts to fulfill our purpose for life, we don’t immediately recognize those gifts. Instead, those gifts and talents must be discovered, either by someone else’s recognition or by some other great inspiration that gives ignition to our inner pilot light. Walter Hawkins was that inspiration for me. When I heard his music, I was compelled to run to the piano and attempt to reproduce what I was hearing from the record player. At such a young age I was hardly searching for purpose. I was simply trying to appease my present hunger. In the process, I found something about which I was passionate. Only in hindsight did I realize that one’s purpose is tied to his passion. After some toying around with the piano (only half the keys worked, by the way), I realized that I had the gift of music. How incredibly satisfying. Ironically, in the very same year that Love Alive 2 was released, I began my journey as keyboardist at my local church.

As a musician, I was never afforded an opportunity to study music under the tutelage of some great music teacher or in the halls of some great university. Nor did I miss it. I never knew that I needed a physically present teacher. The music of Walter Hawkins was my teacher. Day after day I would spend hours going back and forth from the piano to the record player trying to reproduce that Hawkins sound. I’m not sure if I ever perfected the sound, but what I am sure of is that I developed an unbelievable work ethic, attention to detail, and a programmed ear for what represents good music.

In a day where inflated characterization of personal achievement and exaggeration of accomplishment have become the norm, it is impossible to overstate the impact of Walter Hawkins on our world. He was an absolute musical genius who inspired generations of singers and musicians.

But as greatly as he is esteemed as a musical genius, not every lesson that he taught us was a lesson in music theory or vocal technique. One of the greatest lessons I learned from him is how important it is to resist the natural inclination to become a slave to fear. Walter was an innovator. And innovators are uniquely gifted to be different. The problem is that difference is often met with criticism, if not rejection. Yet he wasn’t afraid to be different. Rather than try to be like his gospel contemporaries or predecessors, he chose to be himself. He understood that it is impossible to achieve greatness when we are constantly preoccupied with the opinions of people.

He taught us that when what’s inside of us is different from what’s outside of us, it doesn’t portend an internal problem. Rather, it suggests that perhaps the problem is an external one whose only solution is the difference that lies within us.

It’s much more difficult to create difference than it is to maintain what’s already established. Therefore, we should all thank God for not only the manifested greatness of Walter Hawkins, but for his courage to be an innovator.

Successful innovation generally translates to expansive influence. As a consequence of his musical innovations, Walter Hawkins became a man of great influence. From Richard Smallwood, to the Winans, to Kevin Bond and Aaron Lindsey, the musical influence of Walter Hawkins and the Hawkins Family is far-reaching. It would be a travesty if those of us who understand the real value and contributions of Walter Hawkins as a transcendent musical icon didn’t lay the stones of remembrance for successive generations.

The enduring legacy of Walter Hawkins is not just how he impacted the gospel celebrities of our day, but it is how he impacted a world of people whose names we will never know. It would be a grave understatement of his influence if we only rattled off a list of Who’s Who of gospel singers and musicians who have benefitted from his music. But included in this population of influence has to be the countless individuals whose names aren’t listed on any CD jackets or whose lack of musical talent precludes them from stage performance. Even for them his music inspired great hope, faith, and encouragement.

While he functioned in many different roles during his time on earth, I believe his general legacy can be summarized quite simply: He dwelt among us to inspire us.

And even if he never inspired you to play or sing, certainly he should have inspired you to love. As I listened to the many of expressions of those who were privileged to know him personally, I discovered that all of the great music he brought to us was born out of the heart of a man who rejected the fear of people, but had a deep, abiding love for all people. Consider his opening statement on the first Love Alive project: “Folk like to find fault and complain about what you are. But I think if we can show the love that Jesus Christ had, it’ll cover a multitude of faults.”