From being a teenager, I was into bands like the Rolling Stones and Led Zeppelin. Much of what they were doing was based on old Blues songs, which led me to the likes of Muddy Waters and Leadbelly, Lightnin’ Hopkins and Bessie Smith.
Later I liked U2. I’m not sure if they still do it, but Psalm 40 used to be sung by them as an encore at the end of their shows… In an interview with Eugene Peterson, the man behind The Message translation of the Bible, Bono (the lead singer of U2) said that a lot of the psalms feel like the Blues – they were about abandonment and displacement, man shouting at God. And, depending on how you count them, about half of the psalms are laments – poems and songs expressing sorrow, grief or loss.
And the Blues seemed a pretty good counterpoint to our readings today because we’re going to walk the line, or roll down the railroad track, between two very different kinds of life.
On the one side, we have Sirach, chapter 10. It’s a tough message, a warning for those whose hearts are lifted too high: ‘The beginning of human pride is to forsake the Lord; the heart has withdrawn from its Maker’ says Sirach 10:12.
And on the other side of the tracks, we have Psalm 112, a hymn of promise, praising those who live in awe and respect of God: ‘Happy are those who fear the Lord and have great delight in his commandments… they will not be afraid of evil rumours: their heart is right; they put their trust in the Lord.’ Psalm 112:1, 7
Now in the delta between those two scriptures—between the prideful heart that falls and the humble heart that endures—is where the Blues lives.
More than music
Because the Blues is more than music. It’s a theology of brokenness and hope, pain and survival. Written on dusty roads and freight trains, on back porches and in bars. It tells the truth about suffering and injustice, sin and redemption. A theology which embraces Good Friday as well as Easter Sunday. It echoes both the warnings of Sirach and the promises of the Psalm.
In the next few minutes, we’ll walk together from pride to humility, from despair to dignity—from Sirach, through the Blues, toward Psalm 112.
But first, a little about Sirach since it might not be familiar to you. The book was written in that grey time between Old and New Testament by a Jewish scribe. It’s considered to be a Wisdom book along with books like Proverbs, Ecclesiastes and Job. It’s not in our regular Protestant bible but, if you have a Catholic one or an Apocrypha, then you’ll find it there. Another name for it is Ecclesiasticus which means ‘of the church’ because of the frequency with which it was used for teaching and worship in the early church. History lesson over!
Fall Begins with Pride – Sirach 10:12–14
Sirach tells us plainly: ‘The beginning of human pride is to forsake the Lord… For the beginning of pride is sin.’ (vv.12–13)
Pride is that dangerous inner voice that says: “I’m self-made. I did it all myself” It forgets the Maker. It forgets the community, the village, that raised it. It forgets that its knees were made for kneeling.
Sirach goes on: ‘Therefore the Lord brings upon them strange or unheard-of calamities, and destroys them completely’ (v.13)
This isn’t about punishment—it’s about reality. When you lift yourself up too high, life has a way of bringing you back down.
Now, Blues singers know this truth deep in their bones. Sometimes calamity is what happens round you, but often you make enough troubles of your own. You can hear it in the raw regret of Bessie Smith: ‘Once I lived a life of a millionaire, spendin’ my money, I didn’t care. I carried my friends out for a good time. Buy bootleg liquor, champagne, and wine…(But) nobody knows you, when you down and out. In my pocket not one penny and my friends, I haven’t any’ (‘Nobody knows you when you’re down and out’ 1929)
Or Bob Dylan: ‘Well, there ain’t no goin’ back, ain’t no goin’ back. When the foot of pride come down, ain’t no goin’ back.’ (‘Foot of Pride’ 1991). Or Furry Lewis: ‘I been down so long, it looks like up to me.’ (‘I Will Turn Your Money Green’ 1928)
Pride wrecks relationships. Pride hardens hearts. And the fall that follows pride is often personal, economic, even spiritual.
Sirach 10:14 continues: ‘The Lord overthrows the thrones of rulers and enthrones the lowly in their place.’ The Blues is full of fallen rulers—people who lost their partners, their homes, their fortunes. But sometimes, that loss brings them low enough to look up.
Blues as Lament—and as Honesty
The Blues is not prideful music. It doesn’t pretend everything’s fine. It tells the truth. And in that truth, we hear echoes of prophetic grief.
Tom Waits cries: ‘It’s that tattooed broken promise, I gotta hide beneath my sleeve…With this blind and broken heart, sleeps beneath my lapel’ in ‘Blue Valentines’ 1978.
‘I went to the crossroad, fell down on my knees… Asked the lord above “Have mercy now, save poor Bob if you please”’ adds Robert Johnson, (‘Cross Road Blues’ 1936). That’s a man who knows the bottom. But unlike the proud prince of Sirach, who falls and refuses to learn, this Bluesman falls—and he prays. Sadly, for Johnson, he didn’t get to hear a reply.
Sirach describes pride as spiritual blindness. But the Blues—when it’s honest—becomes spiritual insight. The Blues says: “I’ve been broken.” Scripture says: ‘A broken and contrite heart, O God, thou wilt not despise.’ Psalm 51:17
There is no redemption without honesty. In that sense, we might think of the Blues as confession set to music. Someone once said the Blues ain’t meant to be described, it’s meant to be travelled. It’s the scars on your heart. It’s the hole in your soul.
Psalm 112: The Sound of the Righteous
Now contrast the pride in Sirach with the righteous person of Psalm 112.
‘Happy are those who fear the Lord and have great delight in his commandments’ Psalm 112 v.1
Fear here doesn’t mean someone in terror of God, but someone who reveres God, who lives with humility and deep respect for the divine.
The Psalm continues: ‘They rise in the darkness as a light for the upright; they are gracious, merciful and righteous.’ v.4. The psalms were Jesus’ songbook and I’m sure he had that verse in mind in Matthew 5:14, when he says to us, his followers: ‘You are the light of the world.’
Here’s where the Blues and the Psalms overlap. The Blues says: ‘Trouble in mind, I’m blue, but I won’t be blue always, ‘cause I know the sun’s gonna shine in my back door someday.’ Richard M. Jones (‘Trouble in Mind’ 1926). And Psalm 112 says: ‘They are not afraid of evil tidings; their hearts are firm, secure in the Lord.’ v.7.
Both Richard M. Jones and the Psalmist can sing hope in the dark. But there’s a difference. The Blues often tells the story of a man hoping for mercy. Psalm 112 tells the story of a man already living in mercy.
That righteous person gives generously (v.9), lends to the poor, lives in justice, and is not shaken. So, where the prideful fall and the Bluesman mourns, the righteous man of Psalm 112 stands steady—not because he’s strong, but because he trusts in the Lord.
From Lowly to Lifted: The Journey of Grace
Sirach 10:15 tells us: ‘The Lord plucks up the roots of the nations, and plants the humble in their place.’ That’s what God does—He plucks up and plants. He reverses the order. He lifts the humble.
This is the spiritual arc of the Blues. Not all Blues songs end in sorrow. Some end in defiant joy.
Take Reverend Gary Davis, who blended the Blues with Gospel: ‘One day as I was walkin’ along, I heard the angels singing. I heard a voice and I saw no one. I heard the angels singing. What you reckon he said to me? I heard the angels singing. Said my sins are forgiven and my soul set free. I heard the angels singing’. (‘I heard the angels singing’ not sure of the year). That’s the Psalm 112 moment—when the righteous, the weary, the humble soul finds freedom and forgiveness in the promises of God.
Who Are We Becoming?
These two scriptures should prompt us to ask ourselves: Are we building thrones for our pride—or are we making space for the reign of God? Sirach says: ‘Pride was not created for human beings, or violent anger for those born of woman.’ v.18. Pride makes us into something we were never meant to be. But Psalm 112 invites us to become what God always intended us to be: gracious, just, fearless in adversity and generous to the poor.
It’s not about having a perfect life. It’s about having a rooted life—a life that sings even when it hurts. And that’s the Blues.
Final Reflections: The Sound of the Kingdom
Let me tell you something: God is not offended by the low notes of your life. He’s not surprised when you mourn in a midnight hour. He’s not distant when you sing your sorrow through gritted teeth and cracked lips. In fact, that’s often where He shows up closest and strongest.
The Blues lets you lament. Psalm 112 helps you endure. And Sirach warns you not to pretend that you’re better than you are.
So don’t let your pride silence your song. Don’t let your past keep you from planting new roots. And, with God’s help, don’t let your falling stop you from getting up again. Because when God takes a humble heart, He makes it strong. He turns the mourning of the Blues into the praise of the Psalms.
So, we began with the warning of Sirach, walked through the honest grief of the Blues, and arrived in the rooted and anchored joy of Psalm 112.
The question is not whether you’ve been broken – it’s what you do when you are. ‘Their hearts are steady; they will not be afraid’ — sings the Psalmist 112:8. So, let that be our song today. Let the proud fall. Let the righteous arise. And let the Blues be sung, in that sacred space in-between.
I’m going to finish with the General Confession from the BCP. It seems the right way to walk from these thoughts into the rest of our service. And, if you listen to the words, I wonder, if the author was a Bluesman at heart…
The General Confession
ALMIGHTY and most merciful Father; We have erred and strayed from Thy ways like lost sheep.
We have followed too much the devices and desires of our own hearts.
We have offended against Thy holy laws.
We have left undone those things which we ought to have done; And we have done those things which we ought not to have done; And there is no health in us.
But Thou, O Lord, have mercy upon us, miserable offenders. Spare thou them, O God, which confess their faults.
Restore thou them that are penitent; According to Thy promises declared unto mankind in Christ Jesus our Lord.
And grant, O most merciful Father, for His sake; That we may hereafter live a godly, righteous, and sober life, To the glory of Thy Holy Name. Amen.
‘Low Notes and High Hopes: Blues, Pride and a Righteous Life’ was delivered by Ian Banks at Dearnley Methodist, 31st August 2025. It was based on Sirach 10:12–18 and Psalm 112.
References:
- Interview with Bono https://artspastor.blogspot.com/2016/04/the-sayings-of-bono-on-psalms.html
- Gary Davis https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wLsRvb4Is5o
- Richard M. Jones https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sBmyMHBcg6s
- Robert Johnson https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=r8gUpvllN5Q
- Tom Waits https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wsw0aWXufqM
- Furry Lewis https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=0bAuxOXGvUc
- Bob Dylan https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=LC2roZjsv44
- Bessie Smith https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=kxTyV_cBz7o
- The service finished with ‘It’s a blessing’ from Mississippi Fred McDowell https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=pIMPKkOhGzs&t=8s
- Recommended reading: Nichols, S.J. (2008). Getting the Blues. Brazos Press.
