This email was forwarded on to my husband
and all the other members of our church band by their music director,
Dale: izzy
Subject: FW: [Slice 987]
Attend to What You Sing (September 19, 2005)
Good Morning,
I received the e-mail below this morning
and want to share it with you all. I can relate so much to what is said
here. Saturday night when Doug started singing “Here I Am” I
was completely “leveled” by the Spirit of God. He seemed to
enter in, scoop us up and carry all of us on His wings, leading the way to
worship. I was humbled and thrilled to be a part of it all. I
believe God was able to do that because you all were there, prepared, and
humbly offered yourselves to Him entirely in a spirit of worship. You did
“attend to what you sing” – even those of you who
weren’t holding mics.
What a weekend. I won’t forget
it. And I won’t forget how you all led worship together as a team
and as individuals. I love you all and THANK GOD FOR EACH OF YOU!
Dale
Subject: Fw: [Slice 987]
Attend to What You Sing (September 19, 2005)
Dale, I receive a daily email from the ministry of Ravi
Zacharias -- thought you and some of your musicians might appreciate the words
of today's "Slice of Infinity"
The worship service yesterday was awesome. Thank you for
your time and effort as you seek God on our behalf, then lead us to His throne!
----- Original Message -----
Sent: Monday, September
19, 2005 12:00 AM
Subject: [Slice 987] Attend
to What You Sing (September 19, 2005)
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09/19/05
Attend to What You Sing
Jill Carattini
In his book Night, Holocaust
survivor Elie Wiesel describes a moment in the concentration camp frozen in
his memory. In the darkened corner of room, where the dead were slumped
beside the living, his friend Juliek sat with his violin. On the brink of
his own grave, he played notes pure and heavy to an audience of dead and
dying men. Wiesel recalls, "It was as though Juliek's soul were the
bow. He was playing his life. The whole of his life was gliding on the strings—his
lost hopes, his charred past, his extinguished future."
I cannot make sense of this scene other than to say, there are times when
the gravity of a song flattens us. To this day, Wiesel admits, he cannot
hear the sound of a violin without memory of Juliek dismantling all other
thoughts. Perhaps similarly, you have been floored by a memory locked in a
melody, or leveled by the words of a song. In a very real sense, these are
the images of worship. The Hebrew word for worship conjures a physical
image, an outward response to an inward affection; to worship the Lord
whether in song or in silence means "to prostrate oneself" before
Him. Far too often, this is not the result of the songs I sing.
It was for such a reason that John Wesley offered his congregation a list
of guidelines for singing, even providing encouragement for the one who
would claim he could not. "If it is a cross to you," wrote
Wesley, "take it up and you will find a blessing." He had in mind
both the _expression_ of the community and the heart of the individual; sing
modestly and with good courage, he instructed. Wesley sought to remind us
that it takes audacity to approach a God holy and mighty, and courage to
sing of truth weighted with his glory. "Above all," Wesley
concluded, "Have an eye to God in every word you sing. [A]ttend
strictly to the sense of what you sing, and see that your heart is
[…] offered to God continually."
How often do we take in the enormity of the joy set before us, the weight
of the words we profess? "Joy to the world, the Lord is come! Let
earth receive her King; Let every heart prepare Him room, And Heaven and
nature sing. No more let sins and sorrows grow, Nor thorns infest the
ground; He comes to make His blessings flow. Far as the curse is found/ Far
as the curse is found."
How often do we fathom the proclamations we make in our songs? "I know
that my Redeemer lives/ And ever prays for me/ A token of His love He
gives/ A pledge of liberty/ Jesus, I hang upon Thy Word/ I steadfastly
believe/ Thou wilt return and claim me, Lord/ And to Thyself receive."
How many of the oaths we make are even unattainable without the
intervention of Christ and the bold surrender of our souls?
On the occasions that we are leveled by God in the words we sing, it seems
odd that we could ever have remained standing in the first place. Perhaps
these are the times when God has knocked us off our feet and left us like
Isaiah, speechless in his presence. "The Truth must dazzle
gradually," wrote Emily Dickinson, "Or every man be blind." Sometimes
gently, sometimes fearfully, God reveals Himself to our hearts and minds.
Other times of worship require much more of us. We fight distractions and
judgments, selfishness and pride. But we press on, taking thoughts captive,
confessing the pride that blocks our vision, standing with determination to
attend to what we sing. "For a time is coming and has now come when
the true worshipers will worship the Father in spirit and truth, for they
are the kind of worshipers the Father seeks" (John 4:23). The woman at
the well was the first recipient of these words. With her eyes on Christ
and her heart on her sleeve, she was leveled by God's glory and given a new
song to sing.
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