The Song of Redeemed People Returns with Them

After Jewish worshippers left the sacred festivals in Jerusalem, they returned to ordinary life—the shepherd to his flocks by green pastures, the fisherman to his night-watch on the lake, the sailor beholding dim mountains of his fatherland receding from view. Yet these pilgrims did not cast off their festive spirit with their holiday attire. The songs of Zion lingered in their memories, haunting their ears and hanging upon their lips. The cottager gathering his children by his knee in the hills of Kedesh or on the spurs of Hermon would rehearse to them the joyful remembrances of the holy season, evening after evening.

So too with us: having encountered Elohim in sacred communion, we engage in daily avocations carrying hallowed memories forward. Isaiah promises this durable grace. The redeemed anticipate a night when holy solemnity convenes—when the turmoil of earth is done and impurity is done away, when subjects go forth with pipes to meet their King. This gathering includes friends embracing their Brother whom they have long desired to see, guests at the banquet of their Beloved.

The suitable state of mind for this hope combines two elements: a subject to sing of ("He hath put a new song in my mouth") and a disposition to sing. The song itself becomes evidence of redemption, proof that Yahweh's work persists through ordinary labor and ordinary days.