Birds do it.

Sing to the Lord a new song,

    for he has done marvelous things. . . .

Shout for joy to the Lord, all the earth,

    burst into jubilant song with music; 

make music to the Lord with the harp,

    with the harp and the sound of singing,

with trumpets and the blast of the ram’s horn—

    shout for joy before the Lord, the King.

Let the sea resound, and everything in it,

  the world, and all who live in it. 

Let the rivers clap their hands,

    let the mountains sing together for joy!

--Psalm 98:1; 4-8

I know it's Lent, and I know we are generally sent in a more somber, self-reflective direction for these forty days. But I cannot get past the fact that as we wander through the darkness, still we see signs of spring. And we hear signs of life being renewed.

So today-- you get music.

One of my professors, also a friend, makes regular pilgrimages to England. The man is an incurable Methodist, and is always seeking to draw fresh inspiration straight from that Methodese well.

He told us one time about making a trip to London and being curious whether or not the Methodist Church in England was still known, as it was in the Wesleys' day, as the "singing church."

So he found someone, a local, and asked where the "singing church" was-- and sure enough, he was given directions to the nearest Methodist congregational meeting house.

I, too, am (United) Methodist, although I would not call myself "incurable." More like a chosen heart space, although sometimes I don't know if I chose it-- or it chose me.

Charles Wesley wrote, by some counts, over 9000 hymns. Many of those hymns had seven or more verses. 

That, friend, is a lot of music. And here is one:

Come O Thou Traveller Unknown

John Wesley referred to himself as a "man of the Book." Arguably, he was so well-read, so curious, so-- hungry that he became a man of many books. 

A man of just about every book he could get his hands on.

Today, United Methodists still see themselves as people of the Book-- or some say, of two books, the second being The Book of Discipline. (Don't get me started.)

But I would offer that we are people of a third book: a hymnal or hymn book or praise book or whatever other music we can get our hands on.

And I would argue that we are in good company to lift our voices in song-- even during Lent.

The Book of Psalms contains 150 psalms covering a veritable plethora of emotions. Beyond Psalms, the Hebrew scriptures contain dozens (at least) of other occasions when Moses, Miriam, Aaron and others offered  words of praise-- or often anguish-- to the Almighty.

To me, The Church is, by definition, a singing church-- whether Methodist or some other ilk. God places joy in our hearts-- and it has to go someplace! So it pours forth from our lips, or leaps forth in wild moments of playful dance.

And-- believe it or not-- the joy doesn't just stop for forty days, just because the calendar says it is Lent.

Reflect? Yes. Remember? Always. Spend time in silence? Absolutely.

But when God gently works God's way into your heart and reminds you that you are God's own beloved-- just because-- and that thought warms your heart and makes you want to sing-- go for it. Let these little children remind you how:

I'm gonna sing!

Maybe this year your Lenten commitment might be to add a little joy to your life-- and share that joy with others, as well. 

Even the rocks will cry out if we keep silent. Even the rocks will cry, "Holy!"

Gracious, joyful Lord, even as we remember the walk to the cross, help us to find joy, deep in our hearts-- but remind us not to keep it buried there. This broken, tired place needs more joy-- and more you. Amen