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Church of the Crossroads
Third Sunday of Advent
December 11, 2005
Neal MacPherson

“DANGEROUS SONGS”

Isaiah 61:1-4, 8-11
Luke 1:46-54
1 Thessalonians 5:16-24
John 1:6-8, 19-28

In Alice Walker’s novel Possessing the Secret of Joy, Tashi, who has earned a death sentence because of her actions to stop the practice of female genital mutilation in her native Africa, is on the way to her execution. The onlookers, including the women whom Tashi has tried to help, have been warned by the armed police that they must not sing. And yet, they find a way to sing without actually singing.

. . . Each woman standing beside the path holds a redberibboned, closely swaddled baby in her arms, and as Tashi passes, the bottom wrappings fall. The women then place the babies on their shoulders or on their heads, where they kick their naked legs, smile with pleasure, screech with terror, or occasionally wave. It is a protest and celebration the men threatening them do not even recognize. (p. 278)

The bottoms of the babies are bared as a sign that these women will not allow their female babies to submit to the evil practice of mutilation. Then, as Tashi nears the end of her walk towards her execution, Mbati, her friend, unfurls a banner, quickly, before the soldiers can stop her.

. . . All of them – Adam, Olivia, Benny, Pierre, Raye, Mbati – hold it firmly and stretch it wide. RESISTANCE IS THE SECRET OF JOY! It says in huge block letters.

Reflects Tashi: “There is a roar as if the world cracked open and I flew inside. I am no more. And satisfied.”

Singing, an act of joy, even when it takes the form of words without music, can indeed be a sign of resistance. Walter Brueggemann writes about the exiles in Babylon in the 6th century B.C.E. hearing the words of the prophet Isaiah and being invited to sing a new song. Writes Brueggemann,

Everyone sings. It is a new song, commissioned just for this meeting, never heard until now, and it grabs Israel in exile. It grabs all of creation. Everybody joins the song: the sea, the coastline, the desert, the cities, the villages. They all sing a new reality.
This is what they sing about: Yahweh is on the move! Yahweh has long been silent and is now active. Yahweh has been absent and is now powerfully present.
(from Cadences of Home, p. 127)

The song is dangerous for it is a song that is sung in the midst of empire. The faithful are invited to sing dangerous songs. This morning’s reading from Isaiah takes up the theme, only now the song is sung by the returned exiles in the midst of a devastated city and a ruined temple:

I will greatly rejoice in God,
   my whole being shall exult in my God;
for God has clothed me with the garments of
   salvation,
   God has covered me with the robe of
      righteousness,
as a bridegroom decks himself with a garland,
   and as a bride adorns herself with her jewels.
For as the earth brings forth its shoots,
   and as a garden causes what is sown to
      spring up,
so the Sovereign God will cause righteousness
   and praise
   to spring up before all the nations.
- Isaiah 61:10,11

The dangerous song continues to be sung. It is sung by Mary as she sings Magnificat, “My soul magnifies the Lord.” Mary, not exactly the meek and mild woman we are led to believe she was, turns her joyful song into an act of resistance:

God has shown strength with God’s arm;
God has scattered the proud in the thoughts
   of their hearts.
God has brought down the powerful from their
   their thrones,
   and lifted up the lowly;
God has filled the hungry with good things,
   and sent the rich empty away.
- Luke 1:51-53

Later, the persecuted Christians in Thessalonica are instructed to

Rejoice always, pray without ceasing, give thanks in all circumstances; for this is the will of God in Christ Jesus for you. Do not quench the Spirit. Do not despise the words of the prophets, but test everything; hold fast to what is good; abstain from every form of evil.
- 1 Thessalonians:16-22

In truth, throughout history dangerous songs have been sung, songs of joy, songs of resistance. You will recall the year 1973 when the democratically elected president of Chile, Salavadore Allende, was killed and the dictator Pinochet took over. Over night, truth was suspect. Truth was dangerous. Squads of soldiers hit the streets trying to silence truth. The Chilean army rounded up over 6000 students from the University of Santiago and herded them into Santiago’s huge soccer stadium which was converted into a kind of prison camp. For fun, the soldiers fired their machine guns into the crowd and by police order no one was allowed to touch the bodies where they fell. Among the group of students was one of Chile’s most popular singers, Victor Jarra. His music was a ministry of resistance during a time of crisis. When those in charge realized he was there with his guitar, they brought him to a table in the center of the stadium and made him place his hands on it. They took a hatchet and cut off the fingers, first of one hand, then the other. He fell. They kicked him and laughed: “Now let’s hear you sing.” Somehow Victor Jarra found the strength to stand up. He found the strength to raise his arms, “Amigos,” he said, “Friends, vamos a cantar. Let us sing.” And they did. The whole stadium of frightened students began to sing with one unstoppable voice. The singing continued after Victor Jarra was shot down and even as bullets continued to rain down upon the crowd.

Dangerous songs. Mary’s song. Tashi’s song. The songs of exiles sung in the midst of empire and devastation. The songs of Christians in Thessalonica. The songs of Victor Jarra. Songs of joy. Songs of resistance.

We, too, are invited to sing dangerous songs. We are invited to sing like that little group of Mennonites Frank Ward told us about last Sunday. They changed the words of familiar Christmas carols to convey an anti-consumer message, and then they went to a shopping mall to sing their songs. The security guards surrounded them and politely forced them to leave the premises. That was an act of resistance.

Every time we sing the Doxology, we are singing a dangerous song, a song of resistance. “Praise God from whom all blessings flow; Praise God all creatures here below; Praise God ye heavenly host; Creator, Christ, and Holy Ghost.” “Praise God from whom all blessings flow.” In singing this we are committing an act of resistance against the free market advocates who tell us that a free market place will give us everything we need. No, it is God who supplies our needs.

Even this past week, a number of us experienced a song of joy, a song of resistance, a song of resistance. The song was not sung in musical form. It took the form of words, impassioned words, words filled with feeling and poetry and music, words spoken from the heart, words spoken by all ages, words spoken by Debbie Gowensmith on behalf of Church of the Crossroads, words spoken by Chuck Burrows, words spoken at the City Council last Wednesday afternoon in an effort to save Waimea Valley. In the presence of such powerful singing, what could the council members do! Every one of them ended up voting against a settlement that could well have made room for development in the valley.

Dangerous songs, songs sung in the midst of shopping malls and council chambers. Songs of joy. Mary’s song. Songs of resistance. God help us to keep on singing!

Amen.

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