Praise the LORD.
Praise God in his sanctuary;
praise him in his mighty heavens.
Praise him for his acts of power;
praise him for his surpassing greatness.
Praise him with the sounding of the trumpet,
praise him with the harp and lyre,
praise him with tambourine and dancing,
praise him with the strings and flute,
praise him with the clash of cymbals,
praise him with resounding cymbals.
Let everything that has breath praise the LORD.
--Psalm 150:1-6a
From the beginning, it seems, we were made to praise God with the music of our hearts.
When we are still babes-in-arms, our mothers, our grandmothers or, in some lucky instances our fathers would rock with us, walk with us and softly sing to us.
My husband was one of those walker-rocker-singers with our children. When they were little, we took turns in the wee hours of the morning. Sometimes, I think the humming or singing did more to calm my own troubled spirit than theirs.
Now I am a walker-rocker-singer with my grandchildren. It just comes naturally, this cooing, cuddling cant. Sometimes there are words, and sometimes-- just the tune.
Amazing Grace. Written by John Newton over 230 years ago; yet it remains one of the best-known and most-oft sung hymns. It transcends language and time, reaches to the heart of our faith. (And for those of you who are musically inclined: It is played using only the black keys on the piano. Perhaps it is a light reflected in the darkness.)
Horatio Spafford had a series of tragic circumstances in his life, losing his son and four daughters in short order. As he sailed near the place where the ship carrying his daughters had gone down, he was struck with a deep peace in his very being, and penned these words:
"When peace like a river attendeth my ways,
When sorrows like sea billows roll,
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say
It is well-- it is well with my soul."
And then there is Charles Wesley, so captivated by Divine love that he penned over 9,000 hymns. And these are not hymns with just one or two measly verses: "O For a Thousand Tongues to Sing," for instance, has seventeen verses-- and that's not the only one. Being loved on by the Almighty certainly brought out the musical best in Charles.
I believe it is perhaps through music that we both offer the most genuine praise to God and through music that God often touches us when no other way works.
Paul writes of the Spirit praying when our need is inexpressible in words. So, too, I believe, with music. Something happen when tone and lyric come together.
There is no denying: music and poetry seem to rise forth like a fountain, in times of joy and sorrow, turmoil and peace.
The very rhythms of life become the pulsing rhythms of our soul, pouring out in song.
Some people say, "I can't sing." Others say, "I have no rhythm."
God is not judging your voice or your talent. God is not Simon Cowell, waiting to laugh at you and insult you, vote you "off the island."
Every utterance, every note brought forth and laid before the Lord is music to God's ear.
Go ahead. Belt it out. Let your soul sing forth. How's that saying go?
Dance as if no one is watching. Love as if you have never been hurt. Live as if there is no tomorrow.
Sing as if no one is listening.
Let the Spirit move.
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