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Way back in 1978 Boney M did a terrible thing: they took a song of desperate lament and turned it into a disco dance hit. 鈥楤y the rivers of Babylon鈥 was a boppy little number with a very catchy tune, but the music bore no relation to the content or the meaning of the words. 鈥淏y the rivers of Babylon we sat down and wept鈥 How can we sing the Lord鈥檚 song in a strange land?鈥 This song 鈥 which is taken from Psalm 137 鈥 is wrenched out of the guts of a people whose world has been lost 鈥 possibly forever. Here they sit in exile, expelled from their homeland, being mocked by their captors while they weep in humiliation. After all, how can they sing songs of praise to their God when the evidence of their desperate experience tells them it has all been a big mistake? Well, Boney M aren鈥檛 the only culprits when it comes to putting words to inappropriate music. But, this is the song that comes to my mind when I see the images brought to us from just about every corner of the globe by hugely brave journalists and film crews. Attempts to rationalize the immensity of human suffering in the world today must surely come second to some attempt at empathy. Our brains might be engaged, but our first response must be the surge of emotional horror and lament that is dragged from deep within us as we see the human suffering laid bare before us. Now, Psalm 137 is not a comfortable song; nor is it a song for the comfortable. It ends with a shrill cry of pain and hatred: 鈥淕od, I wish you鈥檇 take the children of my enemies and smash their heads against the rocks.鈥 But, it isn鈥檛 there to justify an ethic. It isn鈥檛 there to suggest it is right to think such awful things of other people鈥檚 children. It is there for two reasons: first, to confront us with the reality of how deep our own human hatred can go, and, secondly, to tell us not to lie to God (thinking he can鈥檛 handle that reality or the depths of human despair). If we thought the twentieth century of bloodshed and slaughter was bad enough, the twenty first is already proving pretty grim. Like everybody else, I have views on what is happening in the Middle East and closer to home in Ukraine 鈥 including the persecution of Christians in Iraq and elsewhere. And, having grown up in Liverpool in the aftermath of the Second World War with grandparents who well remembered the First, I am haunted by the human propensity for what historian Christopher Clark has called the 鈥渟leepwalking鈥 into global conflict. Where does all this leave the myth of human progress? 鈥淏y the rivers of Babylon鈥 perhaps gives us a vocabulary for times such as this 鈥 admitting the horror and the helplessness, but surrounded by other songs that compel compassionate response and action that is rooted in hope of a better future.
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