(This is an abridged version of the sermon preached at Epworth Chapel, Baltimore on 2/26/12)
"... How do we sing the Lord's song in a strange land?" (PSALM 137:4)
A few years ago, the popular singing group, “Earth, Wind and Fire” recorded a song in which the title encouraged us to “Sing a Song:”
“When you feel down and out…
Sing a song…It’ll make your day…
Here’s a time to shout…
Sing a song… It’ll make a way.
Sometimes it’s hard to care…
Sing a song…It’ll make your day…
A smile so hard to bear…
Sing a song… It’ll make a way.”
Indeed, there is something about the melodious music that we sing that serves to soothe our hearts, and lift our spirits. A good song can offer hope in despair, and bring us joy in sadness. A good song can make our day.
And if there is anything that we - the people of the African Diaspora - share in common – it is that we are a singing people. This is to say that if there is any one thing that defines African people, it is our ability and willingness to sing. This has been one of our stamps, one of our marks, that we are a singing people.
Over one hundred years ago, renowned sociologist, W.E.B. DuBois, in his classic work, "The Souls of Black Folk," shared that black people have offered three significant, indelible gifts to American life as a whole – (1) the gift of the sweat and brawn; (2) the gift of the spirit; and (3) the gift of the song and story.
We are a people of the song – a people of the rhythm - a people of the beat. Whether in the church or at the party, we have had a song to sing. Whether in the great cathedrals of the land, or the best of concert halls, it has been well-known that African peoples are people of the song. Whether the spirituals or the blues, jazz or gospel, hip-hop or reggae, we have been a singing people.
What is impressive in travels to the various corners of the earth is that African people - wherever we are physically located - and whatever our lot – are a singing people. Whether in Mutare, Zimbabwe, or Capetown, South Africa or Sierra Leone on the western shores of the African continent, it is evident that we are a singing people. In the Caribbean or Central and South America, or in any neighborhood in the United States, it is clear that African people are a singing people.
The Psalmist reminds us of the predicament of the Israelites in Psalm 137. Here they are, trapped in bondage by the rivers of Babylon… trapped in a strange land. Their captors asked the people of Israel to sing one of their songs of Zion. In their exile, they are provoked and prodded by their captors to sing their song. And in their desperation, the Israelites respond by asking a question, “How do we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?”
The Israelites found themselves in no mood to sing. How were they supposed to sing in the midst of adversity? How were they to sing amidst exile, separation and alienation? They were in no mood to sing … trouble all around them… no hope and no joy. How were they supposed to sing the Lord’s song?
The turbulent and tempestuous nature of contemporary life can lead us to ponder this very same matter in 2012. How do we keep singing… and keep worshipping… and keep praising the Lord… and keep trusting in Jesus in the midst of adversity?
How do we sing in the midst of abject poverty and virulent racism? How do we sing in the midst of suffering and sickness? How can we sing amidst violence and death, where too many of our young people are dying on our streets? How do we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?
The Israelites teach us something about singing the Lord’s song. You see, it’s easy to sing when life is rosy and cozy. It’s not hard to sing when the bills are paid, and good health abounds. It’s easy to sing amidst comfort and convenience.
But the true challenge of singing comes amidst of the “strange land” situations of life. The diffulty of singing comes when the nights are darkest, and even the days are dim - when there is no money in the bank…when it seems that loved ones have forsaken you… when it seems that you’ve done all that you can do to stand.
This is why we need to take time every now and then to be reminded of the importance of our perpetual song, and our need to keep singing our song. We will all face "strange land" situations in life. There will be times for all of us when we sit beside the proverbial “Rivers of Babylon.”
We will all face moments of feeling separated and segregated from God, and from one another - times of lostness and alienation - times of desperation and disillusionment. It is in the strange lands – on the banks of Babylon - that we need to keep on singing our song.
And we need to know that it’s all right to ask, from time to time, “How can we sing God’s song?” It’s all right to talk to the Lord. For to ask the question indicates that we are still in conversation with God. This is an indication that we are still seeking and searching for the Lord to help us sing even though we may not feel like singing.
To ponder the question “how?” is to acknowledge - in the depths of our souls - that we may be bent, but we are not yet broken. We may be hurting, but we know that healing is possible. We may feel helpless and hopeless, but we know that if we hold on – our help is on the way. It’s all right to ask, “How do we keep on singing?”
The problem comes not in asking the question of “How do we sing?” The problem comes when we stop singing altogether. The problem comes when we feel that there is no use in singing. The real predicament of faith lies at the point where we sense that we may as well throw in the towel, give up, and stop singing. The problem really is evident when we stop singing the Lord’s song.
And so, we have to keep on singing. We are reminded of those who sang the blues. Those like Billie Holiday, Bessie Smith, B.B King, Muddy Watters and Etta James were really helping us to understand that whatever the circumstance… whatever the predicament, we have to keep on singing. Whatever blows have been directed our way, we need to keep on singing.
And it's good to know that persons of faith like Dr. Thomas Dorsey, Dr. Charles Tindley, Dr. Mattie Moss Clark, Rev. Shirley Ceasar, and Rev. James Cleveland were so inspired to take the blues, and turn it into Good News. These persons of faith knew that despite the blues, it was incumbent upon African people to keep on singing.
And so Tindley could sing:
When the storms of life are raging
(Lord) stand by me…
When the storms of life are raging
Stand by me
When the world is tossing me
Like a ship upon the sea
Thou who rulest wind and water
Stand by me…
And then Cleveland could come along years later and declare:
I don’t feel no ways tired
I’ve come too far from where I started from
Nobody told me that the Lord would be easy
I don’t believe (God) brought (us) this far to leave (us)…
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