The New England Church Pulpit

New England Congregational Church UCC
Aurora Illinois


"SINGING HYMNS AT MIDNIGHT"
Acts 16.16-28
Tao Te Ching 16

May 23, 2004
In 1984, Benjamin Weir, a Presbyterian educator, was held captive in Lebanon by Shiite Muslims for sixteen months. The first night of his captivity, Ben said, he remembered the hymn “Abide with me, fast falls the eventide.” He began to do what he had done many times before, and that was to sing. (Robert Dunham, Lectionary Homiletics, April/May 2004). It didn’t create an earthquake that freed him, it didn’t persuade his captors to let him go, it didn’t erase any of the indignity and trauma of being held captive, but it did create within him a sense of calm. In the singing, an evolution of hope sparked a connection to God, to something larger that transcended his present physical and psychological imprisonment. And it saved him.

The story of Paul & Silas has sustained many in their midnight hour when mind, or body or spirit have become chained in oppression. Like many prisoners, they were unjustly incarcerated, yet faith kept them singing. From the beginning of time, music is the means by which many a troubled spirit has been soothed and many a difficult time has been endured.

The anthem our choir sang today is a powerful note on which to end the season. The handbells, too, give wings to our best odysseys of faith. Both groups will be taking a much-deserved rest during summer months, and yet they leave us with a song of hope: When you walk through a storm, hold your head up high. And don’t be afraid of the dark. Walk on through the wind, walk on through the rain though your dreams be tossed and blown. Walk on, walk on with hope in your heart and you’ll never walk alone.

At the heart of apartheid in South Africa, an observer from the States noted that pastors were often at risk from vigilantes and government agents because of the church’s role in the struggle for freedom. As he attended an African church one Sunday, he was amazed to see the parishioners walking to the pastor’s home and then escort him and his family safely to church. While they walked, they sang over and over, “We are walking in the light of God, we are walking in the light of God.” The singing reminded them that they were rooted in the truth and that the cause of justice would triumph. Even in the hopelessness of the concentration camp, Harold Kushner notes that some people entering the Nazi gas chambers were chanting the Shema, while others chanted the Lord’s Prayer as a way of giving themselves over to God when their bodies were to be incinerated. (Bruce Epperly, Lectionary Homiletics, April/May 2004)

It need not be a hymn; any tune that has a special meaning to you will do. From chanting to rap, from rock to Bach, music influences us toward the larger good. From the simple beating of a drum to the complex harmonies of an orchestra, from folk tunes that come out of the grassroots experiences to the lofty realm of the opera, from country music to the song you sing in the shower each expresses in different ways the universal truths that are experienced in pain, joy, hope, determination, disappointment, courage.

In our biblical story, Paul and Silas were not the only ones affected by their midnight music. Other prisoners and the jailer were listening. The jailer in particular was amazed at the power of a song to uplift the spirits of these two, even to the point of such faith that they did not run away when they had the chance. Music has that kind of power: to quell our angst regardless of the future outcome.

Who knows the power of a kindness to change an attitude of a child hardened by the unfair imprisonment of poverty? Can you imagine that when you buy a child a pair of shoes you give her a song to sing that may be just the song of hope she needs? What kind of music can we make by entering into dialogue and working beside someone of another culture? In the Chaos Theory of the butterfly effect scientists tell us that the flapping of the wings of a butterfly in Los Angeles can, over a period of a month, make the difference between sunshine and rain in Washington, DC. We never know when our singing–in tune or out of tune–will soothe the troubled soul of another, even one unknown to us.

When faith grows dim, when you lose your way, when things look dark, find the song that will bolster your spirits. When joy needs expression and your spirit needs to soar, find the song that gives you wings. When death threatens, when all seems hopeless, when disappointment besets your spirit, when you can’t quite cope, listen to the still, small voice that sings at midnight. When the others depend on our caring, when the world depends on our quest for justice, when neighbors depend on our activities of shared strength, walk on with hope and a song in your heart, and we will never walk alone. Amen.

–Gary L. McCann

Acts 16. 16-28

After they had cast out a demon from a young girl, Paul and Silas were dragged into the marketplace to face the authorities. “These men are throwing our city into an uproar by advocating customs unlawful for us Romans to accept or practice,” the crowd accused.

The magistrates ordered Paul and Silas to be stripped and beaten. After they had been severely flogged, they were thrown into prison, and the jailer was commanded to guard them carefully upon penalty of his life. Upon receiving such orders, he put them in the inner cell and fastened their feet in the stocks.

About midnight, Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them. Suddenly there was such a violent earthquake that the foundations of the prison were shaken. At once all the prison doors flew open and everybody’s chains came loose. The jailer woke up, and when he saw the prison doors open, he drew his sword and was about to kill himself because he thought the prisoners had escaped. But Paul shouted, “Don’t harm yourself! We are all here!”

Tao Te Ching 16

Empty your mind of all thoughts.
Let your heart be at peace.
Watch the turmoil of beings,
but contemplate their return.

Each separate being in the universe
returns to the common source.
Returning to the source is serenity.

If you don’t realize the source,
you stumble in confusion and sorrow.
When you realize where you come from,
you naturally become tolerant,
disinterested, amused,
kindhearted as a grandmother,
dignified as a king.
Immersed in the wonder of the Tao [The Way],
you can deal with whatever life brings you,
and when death comes, you are ready.

(Translated by Stephen Mitchell)


Copyright © 2004 by Gary L. McCann. All rights reserved.

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