THE SONG

…singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs among yourselves, and making music to the Lord in your hearts. Ephesians 5:19 (NLT)

 

We noticed him immediately—front teeth missing with a toddler cradled in his lanky arms. He had quietly stood in line for his breakfast taco, beans, and pineapple and respectfully participated in communion. Then suddenly, the margins at the Mexican border were filled with his clear and melodic voice as he burst into song. It wasn’t just a brief little ditty. He sang on and on with bursts of staccato phrasing—obviously, a canticle of praise. And we were all touched and moved beyond that border feeding station.
A small group of church folks had come from afar to see for ourselves the “crisis” on our southernmost point. We had talked with government officials and their loved ones; had witnessed ordinary families waiting to be freed to unite with their families; had seen people hopefully awaiting the buses that would take them to their new homes; and we’d listened to ranchers whose multi-generational families had populated the border.
Already on sensory overload, we filled wagons of food prepared by faithful volunteers and made our way across the concrete link that was the gateway to dreams for which so many had risked their lives. We knew people would be waiting for the breakfast that would sustain them until the next act of kindness would be proffered. As I pulled my wagon, I anticipated a scene of chaos, disorder, grasping from the ragtag I thought would be awaiting us.
Instead, we were greeted warmly, and lines quietly and patiently formed in front of us as we set up our makeshift cafeteria. One by one Cubans and Hondurans, Mexicans, Guatemalans, and others took their plates with, “Gracias,” “Dios la bendiga,” or heavily-accented, “Thank you.” No pushing, no grabbing, just quiet gratitude.
And then two clergy in our group set up communion for anyone who wanted to remember our Lord’s great sacrifice. We were drawn together from many places and many experiences yet shared Jesus as we worshipped. And that’s when he broke out in song. The song that clearly recognized Jesus and our fellowship as we praised God together. The song that transcended the suffering, the setbacks, the disappointments that may have been felt. The song that proclaimed the love of Christ in the midst of a broken world and the song that would, ultimately, heal that world.
It was a song we all knew…
Father, be with those people who are searching for a place to be free and safe and where they can worship you without fear. Thank you for allowing me to participate in a foretaste of what it will be like as we, from many tribes and tongues, stand around your throne and worship. AMEN.

TRY SINGING

Sing and make music from your heart to the LORD. Ephesians 5:19

 

Have you ever listened to what’s happening in your head the moment you awake? Quite likely, it’s a song. It seems that the heart is waiting for the body to wake up so it can begin singing. Just like the birds who, in anticipation of the day, pierce the darkness with their morning praises.

Before David became king, Saul’s paranoia had him relentlessly chasing David from one corner of the kingdom to the other. To escape, David and his men moved out of the country to the Philistine town of Ziklag. They even relocated their families. While David and his merry men were out raiding, the Amalekites swooped in, burned the town, and took their families.

The anger of David’s men was so great that they were ready to kill David. At this point, David had no place to go. Outcast at home, family lost to the Amalekites, and in peril from his own men, the Bible says, “ David was greatly distressed; for the people spake of stoning him, because the soul of all the people was grieved, every man for his sons and for his daughters: but David encouraged himself in the LORD his God” (I Sam. 30:6). With no one to turn to, David turned to God.

Did he sing one of his psalms? Perhaps this is when he composed Psalm 61:

Hear my cry, O God;
listen to my prayer.
From the ends of the earth I call to you,
I call as my heart grows faint;
lead me to the rock that is higher than I.
For you have been my refuge,
a strong tower against the foe.
I long to dwell in your tent forever
and take refuge in the shelter of your wings.
For you, God, have heard my vows;
you have given me the heritage of those who fear your name.
Increase the days of the [my] life,
[my]years for many generations.
May [I] be enthroned in God’s presence forever;
appoint your love and faithfulness to protect [me].
Then I will ever sing in praise of your name
and fulfill my vows day after day.

With no visible source of help, David turned to the Lord just as we can in our time of need. Can’t get someone on the phone to listen? Go to God. Don’t know anyone who would understand? Go to God. Feel alone in your distress? Go to God.

Make music in your heart to God who always hears; who always understands; who is always there. Corrie ten Boom was once asked how she stayed encouraged. She responded that when two or three are gathered in Jesus’ name, he is there. “There’s God, the Son, the Holy Spirit, and me,” Corrie answered. For her, that was enough.

With Jesus, we have enough. When you need help, try singing.

God you are all we need. Always. Thank you. AMEN.

SINGING IN THE DARK

 

About midnight Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God, and the other prisoners were listening to them.  Acts 16:25

 

Upon a recent reading of this text, I was struck not by Paul and Silas’s singing in prison, which in itself was remarkable,  but by the little comment that “the other prisoners were listening to them.”  Of course, they were listening.  Never having occupied a prison cell for my Christian witness, I have no firsthand experience of what words and phrases would daily bounce off the walls of those cold, dark, forgotten places.  But I do have a vivid imagination.

I can imagine that angry, bitter expressions and vile curses would be commonplace as the wicked, the innocent, and the politically disfavored wasted away hoping for rescue.  And then these strange men are tossed in among them.  Men who were thrown in prison for healing a demon-possessed woman.  Of all those locked away, Paul and Silas had reason to complain.

And yet, “about midnight,” the time when all one’s aches and pains and worries and emotional angst are exacerbated, that time when the Prince of Darkness wreaks havoc in our bodies and minds, Paul and Silas were praying and singing hymns to God.  Do you wonder that the prisoners were listening to them?  Paul and Silas had been beaten and severely flogged.  They were probably bleeding and were surely suffering.  Instead of cursing and complaining, they were singing because there was a joyous melody in their hearts.

There was something beyond the realm of ordinary religion.  Rather than comfort, the gods of the day made selfish, extraordinary requirements of their supplicants and were known to wreak havoc on their lives.  Paul and Silas were praying and singing to the Almighty, Omnipotent God.  What a mighty God they served, one who caused them to sing in suffering, one who brought joy to the darkest circumstance, and one who caused them to experience his presence in the hopelessness of their situation.  Of course, the prisoners were listening.

Today people around us are watching, and they’re listening.  Will we pray, will we sing in difficulty?  Will we “count it all joy” when we experience trials that threaten to overcome us.  Will we sense that there is a Fourth Man in the fire with us?  And will we sing?

 

Father, only you are able to give us those songs in the night.  It’s not a matter of putting on a happy face, but it’s rather a matter of absolute abandonment to your faithfulness.  Strengthen us to keep singing of you, and cause our lives to be lived to your glory at all times.  In Jesus’ name.  AMEN.

REJOICING ALMOST ALWAYS

 

Rejoice in the Lord always.  Philippians 4:4

 

Paul tells the church at Philippi that they should rejoice in Christ.  No excuse.  No exceptions.  He repeats himself and says that they should always rejoice in the Lord.  Paul was in prison when he wrote this to the Philippians, and he said that he’d learned the secret of contentment in every circumstance:  he could do all things through [Jesus] who gave him strength. Everything that he couldn’t do, God could do through him.

 

I was working in Uganda and heading north from Kampala for a huge celebration and time of thanksgiving.  I invited Jennifer, a missionary friend, and Bea, a clergy wife.  And Bea invited a friend.  Four of us prepared to leave early in the morning in order to complete the eight-hour trip before dark.

 

I arrived at the meeting place to load up and leave.  No one was ready.  The van arrived, and we discovered that the back door for loading stacks of equipment wouldn’t open – it has just broken, according to the driver.  So we lifted everything over three rows of seats and got off an hour or so after our scheduled departure.

 

Finally, we were moving.  I led the group in a series of praise songs.  I remember that we were singing This is the Day That the Lord Hath Made when the inside of the van began to fill with smoke.  Eventually, our driver decided we should stop and see what might be wrong.  Bea said to me, pointedly, Why did you stop singing?  Woops.  We tried another half-hearted song as our driver checked the engine with a puzzled expression.  And then we sat.

 

There in the middle of a banana plantation, villagers gathered to sympathize and to teach us how to play one of their games.  After all, it looked like we might be there for a while, and they wanted us to be entertained.  Jennifer pulled out her cell phone and called everyone she knew to see if they could send another van.  After numerous calls, she was successful and joined me in playing corro.  Then Bea’s friend asked Jennifer why she hadn’t called so and so because she knew they were nearby and would help.  You can understand why Jennifer didn’t respond at that moment.  Should we have begun singing again?

 

An hour and a half later, the second van arrived; we carried all the equipment back over the three seats and loaded up for our drive north.  By then we were friends with the neighbors and thanked them for their hospitality.  On the road again, we began singing.  This is the day…  Perhaps we had gone ten miles.  Perhaps.  The second van began sputtering and came to an abrupt stop.  Whatever could be wrong this time?

 

Our driver politely told us that when we called, we said we were in a hurry, so he hadn’t bothered to stop for fuel.  I forked over the 100,000 shillings necessary to fill the gerry can with fuel once he found someone willing to part with the precious liquid.  Our driver headed down the red dirt road, hoping to find someone who could help.  Jennifer quoted her oft-stated phrase:  TIA, This is Africa.  And we laughed.  And then we prayed, thanking God for safety and for his provisions of friendship, fuel, and funds.

 

Rejoicing is so much easier among friends.  And the trip north?  A smashing success and another opportunity to experience God’s faithfulness.

 

Lord, we can always rejoice when we remember who you are and whose we are.  We embrace your call to find our joy in you as we ask that you be glorified in us.  AMEN.

CONFIDENCE

So do not throw away your confidence; it will be richly rewarded. Hebrews 10:35 (NIV)

With Easter approaching, our choir was doubling down on rehearsals and more complex musical offerings. Sadly, our choirmaster had’nt yet discovered the joy of music, so rehearsals were often exercises in discipline. One particular evening, he scolded the sopranos particularly severely and shuffled our section around several times. Over and over we rehearsed our passages as he frowned upon us. I could hardly wait for the session to end.

I went home that evening convinced that I was the sour note, unable to contribute to a harmonious whole. The next few days I sat at my piano going over and over the offending phrases. Rather than feeling increasingly confident in my part and eager to sing God’s praises at Easter, my mood was more in line with the confused disciples who hid in the shadows on that fateful Friday.

And then I read that there are times when we take our confidence and throw it to the wind if our expectations aren’t met. We actually take the confidence we’ve gained through years of experience with our Father and toss it from us because of adversity, real or imagined, large or small. And here was I allowing some unsatisfactory choir rehearsals to color the rest of the days in my weeks.

I retrieved the confidence I had – which was in the Lord – and returned to rehearsals determined to hear the messages in the music and to use my voice, imperfect as it might be, as an instrument of praise. It appeared that my heart was more out of tune than my voice, and when that was corrected, I was more prepared (and equipped) to sing .

Easter Day was glorious; the choir’s melodious praises filled the sanctuary. And I learned a valuable lesson that had more to do with attitude than music.

Father, every time I make an incident about me, I become distracted. My confidence, my hope, my inspiration are all from you. Thank you. AMEN.