Wednesday, January 6, 2016

Auld Lang Syne

Again, I saw vanity under the sun: one person who has no other, either son or brother, yet there is no end to all his toil, and his eyes are never satisfied with riches, so that he never asks, “For whom am I toiling and depriving myself of pleasure?” This also is vanity and an unhappy business. Two are better than one, because they have a good reward for their toil. For if they fall, one will lift up his fellow. But woe to him who is alone when he falls and has not another to lift him up! Again, if two lie together, they keep warm, but how can one keep warm alone? And though a man might prevail against one who is alone, two will withstand him—a threefold cord is not quickly broken. (Ecclesiastes 4:7-12 ESV). I mentioned "Auld Lang Syne" in yesterday’s devotional. It is a song whose melody is synonymous with the new year and the theme of change in the English-speaking world, despite nearly incomprehensible syntax and vocabulary. The problem is that the text on which the song is based isn't in English at all. It's 18th-century Scots, a similar but distinct language responsible for lyrics in the song such as "We twa hae run about the braes / and pou’d the gowans fine" that are utterly incomprehensible to Americans. But the story of how an 18th-century Scottish ballad became synonymous with the new year is tangled, involving both Calvinist theology and the uniquely central role that watching television plays in American New Year's celebrations. Bridging the gap is a once-famous, now-forgotten Canadian big band leader who for decades defined New Year's Eve and transformed a Scottish folk custom into a global phenomenon. I have watched “It’s a Wonderful Life” dozens of times; however, I have only noticed the inscription of the book George gets as the crowd sings “Auld Lang Syne” this year. If you want to see it can be found at https://youtu.be/Z3sXVxqDbFk. You really should watch it; bu, for those who cannot, as they open the book he sees the inscription: “Dear George: Remember no man is a failure who has friends. Thanks for the wings. Love, Clarence.” It is a poignant moment as the song draws our attention to friends. Should old acquaintances be forgot? The answer is that it's a rhetorical question. Of course not! The speaker is asking whether old friends should be forgotten, as a way of stating that obviously one should not forget one's old friends. The version of the song we sing today is based on a poem published by Robert Burns, which he attributed to "an old man's singing," noting that it was a traditional Scottish song. Should Old Acquaintance be forgot, and never thought upon; The flames of Love extinguished, and fully past and gone: Is thy sweet Heart now grown so cold, that loving Breast of thine; That thou canst never once reflect On old long syne? We have here a series of rhetorical questions, all amounting to the point that unless you are completely dead inside, you should be able to appreciate the virtues of reconnecting with old friends and thinking about old times. Solomon was right. Two are always better than one; and, a cord of three strands is not easily broken. Who do you need to reconnect with today?

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