I remember a Facebook challenge several years ago that invited those of us scrolling mindlessly from one post or another to choose the song that was the soundtrack to their young adult years. I gave it a moment’s thought and was surprised by the song that surfaced from my college days: Fire and Rain by James Taylor. The lyrics speak of the beautiful mix between “sunny days that I thought would never end” and “lonely times when I could not find a friend.” Taylor acknowledges as normative the ups and downs to life, the movement of each year, some easier and some more difficult.
He sings about seeing fire and rain. In 2007 our house burned to the ground, fortunately with no physical damage to anyone in our family. Another time we drove back from vacation to our home in suburban Chicago, having heard that torrential rain and powerful winds had torn through our town of Lombard. As we anxiously turned onto our street, we saw major appliances and boxes of soggy materials on the curb. Our basement had flooded while we were gone and we lost many household items. In each of those cases, we were not harmed. We learned that stuff is stuff and having our loved ones safe and close is of greatest importance. In each of those occasions, the church members reached out to be of great support to us. Taylor sings his prayer: “Won’t you look down upon me, Jesus/ You’ve got to help me make a stand/ You’ve just got to see me through another day/My body’s aching and my time is at hand/I won’t make it any other way. “
What is your life’s song? When have you gone to a concert of favorite musicians who have transported you back to another time in your life? What hymn are you unable to sing because it reminds you of someone you’ve lost? I wonder what song will speak to you at a deep level when you are in the last chapter of your life and you’ve forgotten much about the life you’ve lived? I walked into the room of a woman with advanced Alzheimer’s symptoms recently. She was tapping her hands on her lap in rhythm to a tune only she could hear. I asked her if she was singing and she said yes, but she couldn’t remember the song. Music is the language that carries us through our lives, especially when our capacities are diminished.
I led a memorial service at a nursing facility so that staff and residents could pause to remember those who had died in the past year. Residents were being wheeled in or entered the room slowly with the support of a walker. I looked out over this congregation of folks with aging bodies and confused minds and prayed that God’s Spirit would move mightily among them. I prayed for God’s Spirit to manifest in tangible ways in our time together. One man was stretched out in a wheelchair that supported him in a reclining position, almost like a cot on wheels. During the service he seemed fairly non-responsive. After the reading of the names and sharing personal memories of these lost loved ones, we invited folks to sing the beloved hymn, Amazing Grace. The man began to mouth the words with his head back and his eyes closed. The resident next to him noticed his emotion and patted his back to offer support. At the end of the service, I walked around to greet different people, many of whom shared the names of loved ones they grieved. As I approached the man who responded to Amazing Grace, I placed my hand on his arm and greeted him. I told him I noticed that the song seemed to touch his heart. Through labored speech, he told me his story of losing his parents and a brother. Tears flowed and we traveled back in time through his memories. As our conversation was winding down, he looked me in the eye and struggled to form the words: “You know when you put your hand on my arm?” I echoed what I thought I understood him saying: “I put my hand on your arm.” He nodded and said with widened eyes, “I felt it!”
My prayer for God to move in tangible ways during our service was answered. When we invite God to move in and through us, God shows up like an electric force that travels between individuals, turning a nursing home dining room into a sanctuary. Music has the power to unlock our emotions and transport us from time and place. I have thanked God many times since then, remembering the awe in his face when he told me, “I felt it!”
The story in Acts 16 features Paul and Silas who traveled together as missionaries, preaching the Good News of a man named Jesus. Paul suffered all forms of persecution because of the fervor of his preaching. He healed through his touch, sending newly healed converts running into their communities with irrepressible conviction. The credibility of these individuals, who were relegated to the fringes of their communities, could easily be questioned. For those who loved these individuals, their healing was an answer to prayer. Others (most notably the religious authorities) were threatened by this obvious showing of power in Jesus’ name.
The story in Acts 16 features Paul and Silas who traveled together as missionaries, preaching the Good News of a man named Jesus. Paul suffered all forms of persecution because of the fervor of his preaching. He healed through his touch, sending newly healed converts running into their communities with irrepressible conviction. The credibility of these individuals, who were relegated to the fringes of their communities, could easily be questioned. For those who loved these individuals, their healing was an answer to prayer. Others (most notably the Jewish authorities) were threatened by this obvious showing of power in Jesus’ name.
Paul and Silas had been jailed for their claims. Their power disturbed the peace in the community and was a threat to the religious leaders. The two preachers were chained in the innermost cell of the prison, subjected to the highest level of scrutiny. They had been beaten before being thrown in prison. Instead of curling up in pain on the dirt floor, Paul and Silas continued to preach, knowing that other prisoners could hear them. In spite of their wounds, they raised their voices in song and sang hymns. The other prisoners knew that these men had been hurt. That was standard procedure for those placed in the high security cell. Yet they were singing and praying at the tops of their lungs. God’s Spirit moved mightily through their sung testimony of faith. An earthquake rocked the jail, breaking loose the chains of all the prisoners. The guard who had gone to sleep for the night, content that his charges were securely confined, awakened in a panic. Had the men escaped? Would he be held responsible? What would happen to him and his family? Knowing the man’s concerns, Paul called out to him and assured him that all were still accounted for. The man, a non-believer, understood that these men acted on behalf of almighty God and threw himself at their feet. He asked the question that opens the door to faith: “What must I do to be saved?” Paul and Silas offered a one-sentence sermon: “Believe in the Lord Jesus Christ and you will be saved—you and all your household.” No longer fearing retribution for releasing his charges, the jailer took Paul and Silas into his home, tended to their wounds and accepted Christ that very night.
I imagine members of that household, for years to come said with awe,
“I felt it.”
God uses music to liberate captives. Have you felt emotion moving up your throat as you sing stirring words that represent a movement: “Lift every voice and sing til earth and heaven ring, ring with the harmonies of liberty…” Spiritual music convicts us of God’s truth. A favorite hymn can rock our world, like an earthquake that breaks our chains open! Like the singing of “Amazing Grace” at the end of the memorial service, it can inspire us and heal us from the past. In the prison guard, we witness how music has the power to humble us and point us to Jesus in a moment of conversion! Music gives us JOY because we know God is with us. As we lift our voices in praise alongside other believers, we are moved to say, “I felt it!”
At that same worship service in the facility there was a man with down syndrome who motioned for me to approach him. He had made noises throughout our service in response to the names that were read and the music we sang. As I greeted him, he started to recite something with great intentionality. He gave occasional hand movements that went along with what he was doing and closed his eyes as he became fully absorbed in his offering. I couldn’t quite understand what he was doing but I listened. I knew from his interaction with me during the service that he was very social. Whatever he was saying, it became clear to me that he had labored to produce something so meaningful to him. It was his song. About a minute in, I began to experience inner turmoil. I wondered how long it would go on. This guy was talkative. I wondered how long to stand in front of him with no assurance of when it would end. I confess I was tempted to walk away since he had talked throughout the whole service and might never finish this song. But I knew I was called to receive his gift. Even though I could not understand his words or know the length of my commitment to him, he was offering me his best song and I needed to stay put. It did come to an end and he looked up at me with a sense of triumph. I thanked him for sharing his song, grasping his hand to let him know I felt his joy.
In the scriptures, the Israelites lift up their hands in praise. They are caught up in their sacred music and their hearts soar to new places as they invoke God‘s presence. In Revelation, we learn of a vision given to John that brings him into heaven, where the Saints and angels sing songs of praise before the throne of God. When Jesus enters Jerusalem on the back of a donkey, the religious authorities tell Him to quiet His disciples. He assures them that, even if these people don’t cry out for Him, the rocks themselves will cry out.
Music is the language of creation. We have a little wren who has established a nest in our front yard in a little decorative hanging frog. She loves her nest and sings about it. She protects that nest from other much larger birds who come by. I love her jubilant song, streaming from her tiny little body. All of creation was formed to sing.
I wonder what you might name as the songtrack of your life. Who has taken the time to listen to your song when you have vulnerably offered it? What do you do when you meet someone whose song is very different from your own? In our families, in our churches, in our politics, we are often told that there is only one right song and any deviation from that one is wrong. Does that shut you down? Do you buy into the rhetoric and let mistrust or anger seep into the places where joy once lived? Or have you sung your song in the power of the Holy Spirit, trusting that God will use it for holy purposes? Like Paul and Silas in prison, when have you proclaimed God’s truth from a place of captivity, bringing hope to those around you? In worship we sing together. Unless you sing in a choir, there is no other time during the week that you make harmony with others in a crowd! We are strengthened, inspired, healed, convicted and liberated when we raise our voices together to join with all of creation that sings God’s praise!
In the final verse of Amazing Grace, the slave-trader turned Jesus-lover has reminded generations of people about the everlasting purpose to our lives: “When we’ve been there ten thousand years, bright shining as the sun, we’ve no less days to sing God’s praise than when we first begun!”
Preaching Life 