Sing a New Song
Of the various anthems I have been practising for the next weeks of choir, this one stood out this morning.
This delightful, dance-like piece is a setting of Psalm 149, verses one and two:
Sing to the Lord a new song; * sing the praises of God in the congregation of the faithful. 2 Let Israel rejoice in their maker; * let the children of Zion be joyful in their sovereign.
In fact, verse 3 is an invitation to praise through dance, so this light, playful music is very fitting.
A New Song? Now?
But perhaps dancing is the farthest thing from your mind and heart right now.
This setting of Psalm 147 Super flumina Babylonis may feel much more appropriate:
1 By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept, * when we remembered you, O Zion. 2 As for our harps, we hung them up * on the trees in the midst of that land. 3 For those who led us away captive asked us for a song, and our oppressors called for mirth: * ”Sing us one of the songs of Zion.” 4 How shall we sing the Lord’s song * upon an alien soil?
2026 has begun with Politico’s future forecasters pitching grim black swan events.
The Crisis Group focusing on 10 conflicts that continue to flare.
The climate crisis going scarier as we have exceeded the 1.5 degree threshold.
Covid awareness information getting more deeply concerning.
The killing of Renee Nicole Good by ICE less than 2 km from where George Floyd was murdered in 2020 by a police officer.
The list continues on and on in a ton of world news that is dark.
And that’s not to mention devastating news closer to home, in people’s personal lives.
Holding Tension, Holding Space
Being a contemplative is somehow daily to hold all the tension life brings without either succumbing to terror or staying blissed out and bypassing human suffering.
In practice, I tend to mostly veer between looking at harsh realities and feeling deeply grateful for what is beautiful and praiseworthy. It is really difficult to be with realities that feel irreconcilable at the same time, rather than ‘multi-tasking’, i.e. shuttling between wildly different perspectives until my head spins.
It’s hard not to feel guilty for being happy, feeling fulfilled, and having a privileged life when the suffering of people in my immediate vicinity as well as that of billions out there in the world is as severe as it is right now.
On Tuesday evening, I participated in a discussion of the local Practical Philosophy club and of course the topics were all over the place.
One question in particular, though, stopped me in my tracks.
What are you doing to make the world better?
Now there’s something guaranteed to send many into a tailspin of mortified guilt.
Because no matter how hard we are working in our life, it’s never ‘enough’, is it?
What difference does it make to be a contemplative, not to eat meat, to be climate and Covid conscious, etc etc?
Are my personal choices having any significant effect on the path of the planet?
Singing a New Song
Probably not making a discernable difference on a global scale, no.
But perhaps there are other, better questions to ask.
What is my path today, what has been given to me and only me to do?
What song do I have to sing today?
It may be that in living in the only way I know how, in singing that new song, in loving as I am being with, in learning more about my limitations and how to navigate them, through it all, that through me there may be something good and live-giving for people around me.
I cannot guarantee it.
But I trust that through faithfulness I can do my best to be more present.
Maybe this new song is enough for today.