Sue Agnew

Dear friends in Christ,

Psalm 137 (“By the waters of Babylon we sat down and wept, * when we remembered you, O Zion”), is a lament for Zion sung by the Judeans dwelling in exile during the time of the Babylonian captivity. The first verse may be familiar from a hauntingly lovely canon recorded by Don McLean. 

They are being ordered to entertain their captors by singing songs of Zion. “How can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?” they ask.

A long-time friend (since 1977) received the diagnosis of amyotropic lateral sclerosis (ALS) in 2017. When I visited her the following year she expressed her frustration with God, in that she had used her voice to worship God and that ability had been taken away from her. 

It is possible to feel alienated, in a figurative strange land, without having been literally carried off. We can be captive to events beyond our control. We can feel stuck in places in which we don’t see a way out. We grieve the loss of the familiar ways that grounded us, that kept us centered, consoled us, defined us.

In my friend’s case, she used the platform of her illness to be a spokesperson for ALS research, including organizing several fund-raising efforts. She figured out a way to “sing the Lord’s song” in another way in the circumstances in which she found herself. 

The psalmist intended “how can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?” to be a rhetorical question. But what if it isn’t? What if it’s a suggestion? 

The Psalm continues “If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill.” We too must cling to our values, our belief system, our sense of the essential goodness of God, and not forget who we are or where we came from. We can take stock of where we find ourselves, the tools and skills we have, who around us may be our audience, and learn our own way to continue to sing the Lord’s song.

Faithfully,

—Sue Agnew