Farewell to Thee

The Feast Day of Lili’uokalani of Hawai’i

Songs are the voice of a resistance that cannot be silenced. “Proudly swept the rain by the cliffs, as it glided through the trees, still following ever the bud, the ahihi lehua of the vale.” Our history, as the holy catholic church, has been marked by blood and political imprisonment and song. It is littered with exile from homelands that we look back to fondly and through the lens of memory. “Sweet memories come back to me, bringing fresh remembrances of the past, dearest one, yes, you are mine own. From you, true love shall never depart, I have seen and watched your loveliness, the sweet rose of Maunawili. And ‘tis there the birds of love dwell and sip the honey from your lips.” Bishop Juan Gerardi, St. Oscar Romero, and Archbishop Janani Luwum all gave their lives for a faith and for people who were entrusted to their care. And those who did not die, have lifted their voices in song for those who could no longer. Songs of resistance, of hope, and of belief in a God who had done the same as these others had.

A Christ who came to Earth, born of Mary, who fasted and prayed and sang just the same as us. Fully human, and fully divine, in a mystery that no man can understand beyond faith. A Christ who was tempted, a Christ who grew angry at the misuse of the Temple, a Christ who looked at the children of those He did not know, and said “Whatever you do to the least of these, you do to me.” A Christ who looked at a world that was full of murder and theft and exploitation, and still gave His life to the Will of the Father. Nailed to a Cross that we now wear with pride, that we now look at not as a symbol of humiliation and degradation, but a symbol of hope. A symbol that would be clung on to by so many that came after.

Clung on to by the same people who had the unforgettable memories of scorch marks on grass from burnt crosses. The cross became the focal point of songs of resistance, because who could be more resilient than those who look at God put up on a Cross and look at that same Cross and be forced to remember the trees with strange fruit. In times of crisis and oppression, where all around us seems to be chaos, we must look at the cross like our better angels have. Look at it and remember that when Jesus was struck and spat upon, He turned His face and showed the other cheek. Look at the Cross and remember that doing so allowed Him to rise up in Glory. Look at Him and understand, truly, what it means to love even those who hate you and despise you.

Love is our greatest weapon right now. Love. Mercy. Kindness. Forgiveness. These are radical choices of empathy and resistance in a world that so badly wants to drive wedges between us. That so badly wants to divide us. So badly wants us to stick our heads in the sand and ignore everything going on because it is all happening far too quickly. That so badly wants us to get mad at one another and be exhausted and be beaten down. Because when we stop caring, when we stop having mercy for one another, that is when we’ve lost. We lose our neighbors. They slip through our fingers like so many grains of sand, because we are too tired to resist. Too tired to face hatred with love and kindness. Too tired to fight back against a system of oppression that is 10,000 years old.

Songs have been sung on picket lines - “I long for the morning that they realize brutality and unjust laws cannot defeat us” - in plantation fields - “All the way my Savior leads me; What have I to ask beside? Can I doubt his tender mercy, who through my life has been my guide?” - and sung during Israel’s exile “As a deer longs for flowing streams, so I long for you God. I thirst for God, the living God. When can I come and appear before God?” And Songs have been sung during sit ins and marches, from Selma to Washington D.C, from New York City to Flint, from San Fransisco to Hawaii where Queen Lili’uokalani had her home stolen from her by the same evils that we struggle against today. We sing because there are those who have lost their voice. We stand because there are those who cannot. And we love, because there is hate in this world, and we know our love is so much stronger than any other power out there, because our love comes from God. We wash the feet of our enemy, because they do not know what it is to be humble. We turn the other cheek, to force them to look us in the eye. We walk the second mile, to share in the burden of life with others. We give from all that we have, because in our nakedness they may finally see their greed.

And we lift our voices to God, because He hears the unshed tears in our words. It is song and music that tie us together throughout history. Our voices are the strands that connect us to one another into a universal church of believers. On Sundays we sing the Psalm, words written three thousand years ago. We sing hymns written five hundred years ago. And we remember saints from a hundred years ago. And we recite a lectionary that continues to reverberate to this very day where we must decide what it means to be a Christian. Do we choose the way of the world, and choose to turn away from the one who wants to borrow from us and choose to love only those who love us? Or do we choose love, do we choose God, do we choose the music of the soul that is the building of a city whose walls are salvation?

“But above all these things put on love, which is the bond of perfection. And let the peace of God rule in your hearts…”

I choose love my friends. I choose forgiveness. I choose the narrow gate and the hard way that leads to life.