Our spiritual mirror in ‘To whom it may be’

Q: Archbishop J, what is the state of the soul of our nation (VII)?

Helon Francis stepped onto the stage at Dimanche Gras, Calypso Monarch Finals 2025, with his song ‘To Whom It May Be’. Through this Calypso, he channelled the unconscious voice of our nation to speak truth to power.

More than that, he offered a lens through which we might discern the central issues facing Trinidad and Tobago. At this pivotal moment in our national journey—when leadership, character, and spiritual depth are more important than ever—his song becomes a mirror for the soul.

The world has changed dramatically since this song was written. Global geopolitics have shifted, traditional frameworks have collapsed, and many are struggling to interpret this new, uncertain reality. Yet, the song speaks more eloquently now than Helon could have imagined.

With elections just over a week away from the publication of this article, I offer this reflection as a sober meditation on what truly matters for the future of our nation. It is not race, class, or eating from the trough.

As a spiritual director, I look to this song not simply as art or commentary but as a kind of national Examen. It reveals unconscious and often hidden structures that speak to us, challenging us to become more than we think we can be.

Indeed, I believe the Calypso itself acts as a spiritual director to the nation. It names reality honestly, without denial; holds hope without naivety; calls for integrity without condemnation; invites discernment, not reaction; and listens deeply—not just to the people’s voice, but to the soul beneath the noise.

This song teaches us to think spiritually—not merely politically or logically. It invites us to see through God’s eyes, where mercy and justice kiss, where pain and promise can coexist.

In this article, I explore six spiritual structures embedded in this Calypso—six invitations to national maturity and personal transformation.

The nation’s prophetic imagination: singing into the future

I am sure by now you will notice / This is written in the future tense / It hopes that you are a leader / Of great poise and great resilience…

Francis writes in the future tense, crafting a musical ‘epistle’ to the next leader, not to scold the past but to dream forward. This prophetic posture mirrors biblical prophecy: it speaks hard truths while believing in transformation.

Francis hopes for a leader of depth, balance, and resilience who can navigate local and global pressures with wisdom.

Character is vital if our nation is to achieve its potential. From character flows policy. From vision, a nation of flourishing. But the song also reminds us that leadership is not only about the leader. We all must become what we hope our leaders will be.

By presenting a vision of what the nation could become, Francis invokes the prophetic spirit of Calypso. The song becomes a soul-to-soul communication—from the people to those who hold power. It is a spiritual artefact, calling leaders to remember their humanity and divine responsibility.

Holding paradox: a mature national consciousness

I hear people say the PNM wasting the nation’s time / I hear people say the UNC will scrape every last dime / So I had to write this plea…

This Calypso is steeped in paradoxical thinking, the spiritual capacity to hold tension between opposites without forcing resolution. This is the maturity of mystics and contemplatives: to stand in the complexity and not retreat into oversimplification.

This line is special: “Careful how much leaders cook one pot.” It is a subtle warning about over-centralised, exclusionary leadership. A single “pot” leads to cliques, command-and-control, cronyism, and spiritual stagnation.

The song lives in the space between disillusionment and hope, guilt and innocence, tradition and innovation, power and humility. It’s an invitation to move beyond binary thinking toward contemplative, soul-centred engagement with reality. Only when we evolve to spiritual maturity—when we embrace paradox—will we make lasting progress.

The call to incarnational leadership: power with proximity

Take a ride on the bus… Don’t be too much on your high horse…

This vision of leadership is rooted in presence, humility, and service. The leader does not reign from above but walks among the people—a profoundly incarnational image. True authority does not arise from title or power but from compassion and integrity.

Here, leadership is seen as a spiritual vocation shaped by service, self-awareness, and solidarity with the marginalised. This is synodality at its best: listening deeply to the people in order to hear the voice of God. Divine wisdom often arises from the margins, and leaders must be attuned to it.

The nation’s cry for wholeness and dignity

Public servants who will answer de phone / And give you advice with a pleasant tone…

Beneath the critique of public inefficiency lies a deeper longing: the human need to be seen, heard, and treated with dignity. The song’s plea is not just for better systems but for restored relationships. It is a cry for a society where every person matters.

Francis identifies the deeper issue: spiritual immaturity. Mistreatment, indifference, and poor service flow from a failure to see the other as sacred. This is not solely a leadership issue; it is a collective moral and spiritual failure.

If we were spiritually healthy, kindness, attention, and presence would flow naturally from all our institutions. This Calypso asks a profoundly spiritual question: Can we organise a nation where people are truly seen and valued?

Moral accountability before God

Take a look at your character / And have a long chat with Almighty Father…

This line calls for spiritual discernment before any exercise of power. It urges leaders—and citizens—to examine themselves and to ground their decisions in conscience and divine guidance. It introduces a sacred pause before action.

We need a leader addicted to progress / Someone who is not here for the money / And always giving us transparency…

As the lyrics suggest, character and vision are foundational. Without them, we fall into cycles of greed and hopelessness, where global agendas overtake local well-being. Both leaders and the nation must hear this call to interior formation—transformation happens from the inside out.

Cultural art as national liturgy

The song’s structure reflects a spiritual rhythm: confession, lament, hope, exhortation, and blessing. Each refrain is a prayer: “That is what we want to see. Most respectfully, to whom this may be.” This transforms the Calypso into a people’s liturgy, a national Examen.

Many leaders in this land / Could be guilty or innocent / And it’s hard for the people to truly know…

This is not just commentary; it is contrition. The song invites all of us into spiritual movement: from guilt to responsibility, from grief to grace. It contains the ingredients of repentance, compassion, and gratitude. It speaks to our shared desire for a shepherd, a moral and upright guide in the tradition of David or Moses. But such leadership cannot emerge without a collective conversion of heart.

Key Message:

Helon Francis has listened deeply to the soul of the people and given it voice. ‘To Whom It May Be’ is not merely political commentary. It is a spiritual mirror that reveals who we are, what we long for, and what we might yet become.

Action Step:

Let us cultivate spiritual disciplines—such as the Examen, silent prayer, discernment, and communal reflection—not only for personal growth but also for national renewal. These practices form the conscience of our people, especially those called to lead.

Scripture Reading:

Philippians 2:1–11