It’s Christmastime again and I’ve been listening to James Taylor crooning “Auld Lang Syne” again on my daily commute. Growing up in Louisiana and living in Texas in the early days, I thought this song was for old fogies, even though I had never really listened to it. Funny how things change as you grow up. Since the song wasn’t part of my culture—or so I thought at the time—I paid little attention to it. A few years ago, however, I saw the final night of the Proms in London on British television, a finale of the traditional old tune, where the audience stood up and turned the song into an emotional takeover, momentarily captivating every heart present. Today that memory turns me into a watery-eyed mute every time I hear it. What was it that seized my own heart with a force that I hadn’t been aware of before? Was it experience? Newfound wisdom? A clearer understanding of my transitory place in the world? The song begins, “Should old acquaintance be forgot and never brought to mind?” and it ends with the chorus, “We’ll take a cup of kindness yet, for auld lang syne.” The Greeks of ancient times believed poets to be the wisest of us all. Robert Burns was no exception when he wrote this poem.
On December 14, 2012, a young man who had suffered mental illness for too long entered an elementary school in Newtown, Connecticut and fired rounds from automatic weapons at several teachers and the principal before massacring a classroom full of six year olds. Twenty-six people lost their lives—twenty of them children—before the gunman turned his weapon on himself. The savagery stunned the world and even now continues to bring us to our knees, not only in prayer for the precious loss of lives cut short but also for the incomprehensible decisions, past and future, for which the living must bear responsibility.
This Christmas many of us in the English speaking world will sing the traditional song of sad farewell and remembrance, not to say goodbye to the old year but to former lives, our own--so difficult to let go of--as well as the dear ones we’ve lost. Somehow singing this song eases the pain of parting with those we love.
Yes, our hearts are broken, but, to paraphrase Faulkner, our spirits will endure with the grace of God. For unspeakable acts, God gives us the courage to become better people, the people we were meant to be. For unspeakable acts, God gives us the redemptive power of love and kindness for one another.
And here is my hand, my trusty friend,
And give me a hand of thine.
We’ll take a cup of kindness up
For auld lang syne.
Sometimes when something so revolting and inhuman happens it is difficult to find the words that express our revulsion of the act. Sometime though when these very awful things are done, something to find hope in is there too.
ReplyDeleteI think of Victoria Soto who showed a selfless courage in sacrificing her own life to protect those children within her charge. I offer two quotation which I think reflect the hope of the best of humanity that her act demonstrated.
One from a novel by Charles Dickens, A tale of Two Cities:
"It is a far, far better thing that I do, than I have ever done; it is a far, far better rest that I go to than I have ever known."
And from the Bible John 15 v 13 :
Greater love has no one than this: to lay down one’s life for one’s friends.
Thanks, Ian. Eloquent words, as always, from you. How glad I am that we know the powerful comfort found in language.
DeleteWe can learn something from these courageous adults: First, the indomitable spirit of caring for others, and second, the idea that defending what is right in the world is noble. I happen to believe there is now a noble faction of people in the US who finally want to control guns. Thanks be to God!