Summary: The exiles in Babylon sat by the rivers and wept. They hung up their harps, because to sing felt like betrayal of their grief.

Title: “Write the Vision, Sing the Lord’s Song”

Texts: Habakkuk 1:1–4; 2:1–4, Psalm 137

Introduction / Background

The exiles in Babylon sat by the rivers and wept. They hung up their harps, because to sing felt like betrayal of their grief. They asked, “How can we sing the Lord’s song in a strange land?”

Habakkuk stood watch over a violent and unjust land and cried, “How long, O Lord? Justice never prevails. The wicked surround the righteous.”

These are not ancient words only — they are the cry of every oppressed people. They are the cry of Africans stolen into slavery, singing by rivers in the Carolinas, Georgia, and Virginia. They are the cry of Black churches in Reconstruction, under Jim Crow, and today in the face of voter suppression. They are the cry of immigrants and Latinos pulled off the streets by ICE. They are the cry of the poor, the uninsured, the sick who know that 51,000 could die this year from healthcare cuts. They are the cry of small congregations, sitting by rivers of Babylon in 2025.

And yet, God’s word still comes: “Write the vision, make it plain… though it tarry, wait for it, it will not delay. The righteous shall live by their faithfulness.”

Three Points of Liberation and Yall Can Go on and Get your Chicken Dinner

1. Liberation Begins with Weeping but Refuses to Forget

Psalm 137 teaches us that lament is not weakness. Weeping by the river is holy. Hanging up the harp is an act of resistance. But the exiles swore never to forget Jerusalem.

In the same way, we as Black churches refuse to forget our Zion — our story, our worth, our faith. Even in decline, even with only 10 or 20 people in worship, remembering is power. Hear me this morning: memory is a superpower.When you remember freedom, you can dream of more freedom. When you remember deliverance, you can believe for deliverance again.

2. Liberation Demands We Write and Sing the Vision

Habakkuk is told to write the vision. Psalm 137 asks, “How can we sing?” Together, they teach us that we must hold the tension. Sometimes the harp is hung up in sorrow, but sometimes the Spirit puts the song back in us. Writing and singing the vision is not entertainment — it is survival.

Our ancestors knew this. They sang “Swing Low, Sweet Chariot” in the fields as coded maps of escape. They lifted “Wade in the Water” as both prayer and resistance. They sang the Lord’s song in a strange land — and God set them free.

I want to tell you this morning: don’t stop singing. Singing is testimony. Singing is survival. Singing is how we outlast Babylon.

And if y’all know anything about me, every song I sing ain’t straight-up gospel. I’ve got to mix in some Hip Hop, R&B, and Neo-Soul — because the Spirit moves in every groove that tells the truth.

• When Tupac said, “Keep ya head up,” that was a psalm in the hood.

• When Mary J. Blige sang, “No more drama in my life,” that was lament turning into hope.

• When Kirk Franklin gave us “Stomp” and “Melodies from Heaven,” he reminded us that the gospel can dance.

• When Common and John Legend sang, “Glory,” at the foot of Selma’s bridge, that was a vision made plain.

• When Beyoncé cried, “Freedom! Freedom! I can’t move. Freedom cut me loose,” she was preaching liberation.

The songs I love best are songs of freedom, songs of liberation, songs of joy — the kind of songs that refuse to let despair have the last word. Whether it’s a spiritual, a hymn, a hip hop beat, or a neo-soul groove, the Spirit keeps putting songs of survival in our mouths.

So today, on World Communion Sunday, when the world asks, “How can you sing?” we answer back: We can sing because the vision is still alive. We can sing because the righteous live by faith. We can sing because God’s table is wide, and God’s joy is our strength.

3. Liberation Lives by Faithfulness, Not Size

The Babylonians thought exile would erase identity. But the exiles remembered. Habakkuk reminds us that faithfulness — not numbers, not budgets, not buildings — sustains the people of God.

New Harmony, with 10–15 faithful worshipers, you are part of a global communion. Around the world today, millions gather at Christ’s table. You are not forgotten. You are not small in God’s sight. The righteous live by faithfulness, and your presence here is part of God’s world-saving vision.

I’ve been traveling across this conference, and I’ll tell you: the majority of our churches are small. But let me give you some discipleship math. If one disciple makes one more disciple each year, and that continues for seven years, that’s over 50 disciples. That’s multiplication. That’s vision. But you have to focus on disciple-making, not just membership. Faithfulness is greater than size.

Closing Illustration (Rev. Barber)

At a Mass Meeting for Moral Witness, Rev. William Barber said, “This is a crisis of civilization, not just democracy.”

He spoke of ICE agents tearing families apart, 51,000 people threatened by healthcare cuts, militarized cities where the poor are crushed.

But then he told us about Operation Liberty: vans filled with clergy, lawyers, veterans, and neighbors rolling through Los Angeles to shine light on ICE raids. Not with weapons, but with witness. Not with retribution, but with vision.

New Harmony, you may feel like exiles sitting by the rivers of Babylon. You may feel like your harp is silent. But today, at Christ’s table, you are part of Operation Liberty.

The vision is plain: Christ’s body, broken for you. Christ’s blood, poured out for you. Christ’s table, wide enough for the whole world.

So, New Harmony: write the vision. Sing the Lord’s song. For the righteous shall live by their faithfulness.