“A New Song”
Psalm 40
Rev. Katy Pass, Westmoreland UCC
Jan. 18, 2026

Stories have an arc that we expect them to follow. Conflict is resolved, evil eradicated, villains vanquished. We all know the classic ending line: And they all live happily ever after. This is the narrative we want to hear, and why wouldn’t we? It’s comforting. We want the assurance that things will be ok in the end.

This expectation has been weaved into much of modern Christianity, as well. I went to a youth retreat once where we were invited to share testimonies of God’s work in our lives. I remember feeling deeply unsettled during the experience, because it felt like a competition of who had been saved the most. Intensely personal stories were shared about mental illnesses being miraculously healed, disaster prevented, missing persons found. These testimonies followed the model of preaching that we had experienced up to that point, as well. “I prayed and was healed of a terminal illness. I was an alcoholic until God directly intervened. I hated God until I heard a voice tell me to go to church.” All these stories share a common thread of I was saved. Past tense. God HAS delivered me. This is good news, because now everything is ok. All of the mental illness, the health issues, the doubts and fears, those are in the past. Thank God for this miracle. I am singing a new song.

It seems that this is the story the Psalmist is telling in our scripture for today, too. I waited patiently for the Lord. God heard my cry, and saved me. Now I tell everyone what God has done for me. My mourning has turned to dancing, my crying to singing, I am ok. I am safe. Thank God for this miracle. I am singing a new song. There is a problem with this narrative, though. It is good news, until it’s not. Until health problems return, relapse happens, doubts persist. The song quickly changes to God, where are you? Why did you leave me? Have I done something wrong? A song dependent on the absence of all misfortune is not sustainable, and it is not good news for those who are experiencing hardship themselves.

The poor, the lonely, the outcasts, who Jesus himself spent most of his time with. The verses that we just read together are actually not the whole Psalm. Immediately after, the Psalmist starts crying out for the same mercy to be shown to them again. They go on to say “evils have encompassed me without number; my iniquities have overtaken me until I cannot see; they are more than the hairs of my head, and my heart fails me. Be pleased, O LORD, to deliver me; O LORD, make haste to help me.”Some scholars believe that this psalm was originally two different texts meshed together because of the stark tone shift, but it doesn’t seem so stark to me.

I imagine the Psalmist praying these words, remembering the good that God has done and getting more desperate as their prayer goes on. I imagine them pleading with God, saying “I have told the glad news of deliverance in the great congregation; see, I have not restrained my lips, as you know, O LORD. I have not hidden your saving help within my heart!” I KNOW these things, God. I know who you are, so help me again.

The Psalm concludes with the words “As for me, I am poor and needy, but the Lord takes thought for me. You are my help and my deliverer; do not delay, O my God.” These are the same words the Psalmist uses to describe God in the beginning, when all is well. The song has persisted, and it is not everything is ok now. The song is who God is. It is hope, which persists while we are high on a mountain or low in a pit.

The psalmist knows who God is from their encounter with God, a time when God came close to them. And God came close even before the rescue happened. In the very first verse, the Psalmist says that God inclined to them and heard their cry. It is this act that showed them who God was, as described in the rest of the prayer. That God is loving and faithful. That God was with them even in the pit.

This is the song they continue to sing, and share with others. This is good news for everyone, regardless of who you are or what circumstances you are experiencing. Thank God for this miracle. We are singing a new song. This song is not just capable of persisting, it has to. Because we need it, at all times. We need to remember who God is, the times that God has come close to us, and the times that things have been better. These memories give us strength and perseverance to endure when we find ourselves again in our own pit.

Many of you have asked me how I ended up at Westmoreland, and I haven’t told that story in its entirety. I am United Methodist, on the ordination track in the Alabama West-Florida Conference, where I plan to return. Last year, my final year at Wesley Seminary, I was planning to receive a job at a church in Alabama. I was 100% certain that that was going to happen. On April 1st of last year, I was expecting to receive a call telling me where I was going. Instead, I got a call that said they didn’t have a job for me. As you can imagine, I panicked. When I graduated from seminary in May, I had no idea what I was going to do.

I applied for a few jobs, all further south, to be closer to my family, none of which worked out. I was not looking for jobs up here. And then, I got an email from my school for a job posting at Westmoreland UCC. And it was perfect. Weirdly perfect. This experience has shown me that God is guiding my steps, has given me gifts to use in the church, and is with me, no matter what. That God was with me, even in the panicky uncertainty. I sing this song to myself when I get homesick, or when I worry about the future.

We all have times when God has come close to us, has been with us while we are hurting, maybe even when we have been rescued. We are celebrating one such instance tomorrow, on Martin Luther King Jr. Day. On this day, we remember leaders of the civil rights movement, who did not stop demanding equal rights for Black Americans even as they faced insurmountable odds. We remember how far we have come, even as we are now experiencing how far we still have to go. Their song is with us today as we continue seeking justice for those in our own time, who continue to be oppressed and dehumanized.

This Psalm teaches us that our song which God taught us does not end when we feel we are back in a pit. We keep singing until we are on solid ground once again. We remember who God is, always, in a sometimes desperate attempt to convince ourselves things will be ok again. The power of our song is its persistence, the fact that it is rooted in who God is. THIS song of stubborn hope is what we share with others. We sing about who we know God to be through the times that God has come close to us. And if you are struggling to remember who God is, let me remind you.

God is the one who created us bearing God’s image and loves us as we are. Who continues to love us no matter what we do and emboldens us to do better. Who became one of us, breaking the barriers between holy and human. Who continued to break man-made barriers that kept the marginalized in the margins. Who spoke truth to power, even to the point of being killed. Who defeated death and rose again. Who dwells in us even still, guiding us towards love, justice, and peace. This is our song. That stays with us in the pit as well as on the mountain. Thank God for this miracle. Keep singing.

Amen.