2025 Song Festival Reflections

In July Lea and I will once again be attending Estonia’s National Song Festival, which is one of the most astounding cultural events you may ever see. The festival runs from Thursday to Sunday if you include the dance festival which precedes the song festival. The song festival itself begins with a parade starting at Freedom Square just outside Tallinn’s Old Town and winding through the city out to the Song Festival grounds and the enormous shell under which thousands of singers will gather to sing national songs for the next few days. And this year Lea and I will be among the singers!

The Festival repertoire always includes the standard set as well as  a selection of new songs assembled around a given theme. This year’s theme is “ise oma” or “our own” and features songs from all around the country sung in local dialect. As an second language learner, it has been a real treat to sing these new songs and to learn about the various nuances in dialects I’ve never encountered.

But I have also been struck by the beauty of the music and of the lyrics. Lea and I have confessed to one another that there is a good chance we won’t make it through some of the songs given the emotional power of their message. Even today in choir practice, I was only able to make it through two verses of “Sa oled ainus” because it so evocatively speaks of my deep admiration for the country and culture I now call my home.

I recognize that it’s probably impossible for me to communicate exactly what puts the lump in my throat. But I’ll tell you that part of it is the irony that this thoroughly secular culture can provide such a winsome, and recognizably Judeo-Christian alternative to the idolatry of prosperity that now goes under the abducted title of “Christian” in my fatherland.

In my recent social media posts, I’ve made clear my disdain for the political chaos and outright betrayal of Christian and democratic values that the new administration in America has promoted. But a good friend asked me recently (paraphrasing), “If the Christian ethic was at the heart of American goodness as it seems to have been, how in the world do we ever recover what has been lost?”

I honestly don’t know if it can be recovered. The damage that has been done in the last month to America’s good name and standing among those who once called us friends is hard to overestimate. (I’m reminded of Jesus’ words in Matthew 11:12, “From the days of John the Baptist until now, the kingdom of heaven has been suffering violence, and the violent have been seizing it by force.”) Even if that old value set can be recovered, I’m not at all sure how based on the tools American culture has on hand and knows how to use. I mean, this might just be too much to recover from, at least in my lifetime.

I do believe there is hope, but I want to offer it to you from another point of view. This is a point of view that I have access to only because (even as a missionary) “I was a stranger here, and they welcomed me.” I want to offer you a series of reflections on the songs of this year’s Estonian Song Festival. These songs will highlight what makes this little country so great in spite of the fact that the great powers could extinguish its flame in a matter of hours if they wanted to.

One of the reasons liberal democracy has been worth fighting for and investing in over the many decades that the Western alliance has done so (albeit imperfectly) is that the world is full of little places like Estonia. These are places whose inhabitants love the land under their feet and wouldn’t sell it for even the highest price. They love their culture and language, and would do anything in their power to maintain the ability to determine their own future and guarantee their own security. This is something that the United States used to recognize as beautiful and virtuous and worthy of defending at significant personal and national cost. And whether the US does or doesn’t, I still do.

I hope you enjoy this series of reflections and I hope it gives you some hope that there is a multitude of small sacrifices that can make us great in the only way that really matters.