Learn a new melody

As I have reflected on this meditation by Howard Thurman during this past election season in the U.S., I’ve asked myself, “What is the old tired familiar melody in my life at this time?” I realize that it is fear, despair, obsessive worry, knee-jerk actions. 

What is the new song for me? I discover that it requires listening. It’s God’s invitation to something fresh and new in each moment. It requires listening, learning the melody, and then singing along. These past few weeks leading up to the election, it has been an invitation to deeper prayer for me. In more ways than one. When I read the fear-mongering and hostility in the news, I felt dismay and anxiety.  I watched in dismay as the authoritarian playbook unfolded before my eyes, with threats of voter suppression and election result denial. Never say, “It can’t happen here,” I remind myself. 

How can my dismay at what was happening be turned into productive prayer and action, rather than obsessive anxiety? As I listen for God’s prayer in me, I hear the new melody. I find myself being drawn to pray deeply that that of God in each person in this country would be raised up and that what is not of God would fall away. I return to this prayer many times a day.

As I pray, I have a sense of God working, of the good being raised up in poll workers to gave them the strength to keep counting ballots in the face of threats, of the good being raised up in judges to give them the courage to hold up justice, of the good being raised up in ordinary citizens to give them the will and the ability to distinguish truth from falsehood as they listen to the rhetoric of politicians. 

I have a vision of others who are uniting in the same prayer that I am praying, holding up one another’s arms in prayer as Aaron and Hur did for Moses, so that we don’t give up when we grow weary. The vision I see includes some who are called to pray at this moment, some called to work for fair ballot counting and protection of our democracy, some called to witness in the streets, some called to pray now and work tomorrow, others to work today and pray tomorrow, some to work and pray at the same time. The work and the prayer are integrated. As I listen for the new song, I continue to pray and sense how God is at work. I feel confident I will know what is mine to do when.  

As I listen for the new song, my prayer also moves to those who are marginalized. I’m aware of many who have been and still are suffering deeply, of the children at the border still separated from their parents, of the black lives lost in police killings, of those in poverty especially vulnerable to Covid-19, and more. I pray that that of God in the marginalized will be raised up to give them hope and remind them of their dignity when they are tempted to despair. I pray that that of God in the rest of us will be raised up to give us strength and courage to fight for the protection of those on the margins.

This prayer feels deeper than any particular election.  We so need the good to be raised up in each of us as we move forward as a country, as a world. Those of us who disagree with one another, who support different candidates, need the good to be raised up in us so that we are not tempted, respectively, to gloat or to turn to bitterness and despair. We need the good to be raised up in each of us so that we can hear the good in opposing points of view.  How can I listen for the good in them? How can we carry out respectful dialogue and find our way forward as fellow citizens seeking to re-build a democracy together?

May we each continue to listen for the new song that is ours to sing. May we all learn to sing the new melodies. The degree to which we each faithfully sing our new song will determine the degree of harmony and healing manifested among us.

So listen and learn your new melody, readers.  Be gentle with yourself so you can be gentle with others.