sing

stop hand-wringing, start hymn-singing

Remember our foremothers and fathers in the faith.

Remember David, Singer of Psalms, Slayer of Giants.

Remember the vanguard of Jehoshaphat.

And when he had consulted with the people, he appointed those who should sing to the Lord, and who should praise the beauty of holiness, as they went out before the army and were saying: 'Praise the Lord, For His mercy endures forever.' Now when they began to sing and to praise, the Lord set ambushes against the people of Ammon, Moab, and Mount Seir, who had come against Judah; and they were defeated. . . . So when Judah came to a place overlooking the wilderness, they looked toward the multitude; and there were their dead bodies, fallen on the earth. No one had escaped. (2 Chronicles 20)

Remember Sts. Paul and Silas, their hymns echoing off the prison walls, until an earthquake shook the foundation and broke off everyone's chains.

Remember the French Huguenots, singing the Psalms under persecution and thereby spreading the Reformation across the Low Countries.

Remember the Scottish Covenanters. "No people ever derived greater comfort from the Psalms in the midst of persecution than they." (Warren Peel)

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I was thinking about how "Love Sosa" surged to anthemic popularity in January. No surprises there. People doing battle sing battle anthems.

Perhaps, since we are at war at all times and in every hour, we might sing a few of our own. "The Son of God Goes Forth to War" comes to mind.

The Son of God goes forth to war,

a kingly crown to gain;

His blood-red banner streams afar!

Who follows in his train?

Who best can drink His cup of woe,

triumphant over pain,

who patient bears his cross below,

he follows in His train.

The martyr first, whose eagle eye

could pierce beyond the grave;

who saw his Master in the sky

and called on Him to save.

Like Him, with pardon on His tongue

in midst of mortal pain,

he prayed for them that did the wrong!

Who follows in His train?

A glorious band, the chosen few

on whom the Spirit came,

twelve valiant saints, their hope they knew,

and mocked the cross and flame.

They met the tyrant's brandished steel,

the lion's gory mane;

they bowed their necks the death to feel:

who follows in their train?

A noble army, men and boys,

the matron and the maid,

around the Savior's throne rejoice

in robes of light arrayed.

They climbed the steep ascent of heav'n

through peril, toil and pain;

O God, to us may grace be giv'n

to follow in their train.

Sing because our victory is a foregone conclusion, despite the deceitfully Pyrrhic appearance of things earthside.

And though this world, with devils filled

Should threaten to undo us

We will not fear, for God hath willed

His truth to triumph through us

The Prince of Darkness grim

We tremble not for him

His rage we can endure

For lo, his doom is sure

One little word shall fell him.

That word above all earthly powers

No thanks to them abideth

The Spirit and the gifts are ours

Through Him who with us sideth

Let goods and kindred go

This mortal life also

The body they may kill

God's truth abideth still

His Kingdom is forever.

("A Mighty Fortress Is Our God," Martin Luther)

The Lord's Day is drawing to a close as I write this, and I sincerely hope you don't wait until the next Lord's Day service to sing again. Because I am an audiobook/podcast addict, I usually only listen to music as background noise while I'm reading a physical book. I'm trying to intentionally incorporate more singing into my daily rhythm by singing at least a few hymns and psalms before launching into my audiobook, singing before or after meals, and singing when I notice the symptoms of Internet poisoning (thanks, Mary Harrington, for the term).

Join me in the effort!

I'll have a playlist for you soon.