“You really enjoy singing, don’t you?” someone remarked today. Yes I do, and count myself lucky to be able to sing, however inadequately.  As I write this letter, the children of Little Hadham School will be making their way to the
Royal Albert Hall to sing in the Hertfordshire Schools’ Gala. Other children from our local schools may well be going also: I hope they really enjoy the experience. Coincidentally, the previous evening I enjoyed watching a Songs of
Praise northern choir competition. The sheer joy on the children’s faces was wonderful to see. Long may singing remain an important part of the teaching in schools, even if squeezed out of the national curriculum!

There are many forms of self expression, but I rate singing high among them; singing and rugby. I was better at singing than rugby, but rejoice that the two go so well together. Before my ordination to the Diaconate, I spent a night in
an hotel shared by a Welsh rugby team, singing their hearts out until three in the morning. I only prayed, as I put the pillow over my ears, that I should be as enthusiastic about my calling as they were about their rugby; but not quite so
flat on the top f ’s!

In a radio broadcast the other day I was reminded how the great black American Paul Robeson extended the hand of brotherhood across continents and the barriers of race to sing with the Welsh miners; recognising the common
bond of sorrow and hardship expressed in song.  Robeson was the son of a former slave and, at a time when we recall the 200th anniversary of the Bill to abolish slavery, we remember also the spiritual songs that emanated out of the
dark suffering of the slave plantations and yet brought Gospel joy and light to the world.

“O sing a new song to the Lord”, the psalmist says: that is what we try to do. Easter is a time when we attempt to sing a new song to an old and sometimes jaded world. The song is a good one; that comes out of suffering, and merges into
joy. The singers are never good enough to sing the song properly; the “choir” is not up to heavenly standards. Our reticence is well expressed in the glorious old hymn by John Mason,
“How shall I sing that Majesty
Which angels do admire?
Let dust in dust and silence lie;
Sing, sing, ye heavenly choir.
Ten thousand times ten thousand sound
Thy praise; but who am I?”

But we go on singing, if only out of conviction that the world needs this song; and you are welcome to join us this Easter.  So, sing in your bath and annoy the family!  Sing in the rain and startle the passers-by! Sing in the fields until the rabbits cover their ears!  Sing in the car and drown out the kids’ new CD!  Sing at the football match! And if you are in the library or have no voice left, sing in your heart and be thankful.
Happy Easter.

Chris Boulton