There’s a lot going on in our passage and at its heart is
singing. Paul’s antidote for unwise living, his prescription for drunkenness, a
way of redeeming time, and a means of understanding the will of the LORD - all
of it connects to singing. Why? Given the difficulties of our world, the
struggles we endure, the spiritual change that we long for but find so elusive
singing can seem so, I don’t know, frivolous, silly – why sing? Yet, of the 5 participles describing life in
the Spirit, 3 involve singing. Participles are verbs that function like
adjectives attributing a quality of action to a noun. Singing is a verb that
describes our religion and who were made to be. Christianity is a musical religion. The Kingdom is
La La Land. A human being is a singing thing. It’s what we were made for. “The
earth is a solar powered juke box.” (Gordon Hempton)
In that light, what I want to ask today is “What is at stake when the people of God
sing?” What are we doing when we sing and how might it accomplish what
Paul argues it does – actually being instrumental in helping us be “filled with the
Spirit”?
We were made to be living musical instruments.
There is an interesting connection that Paul is making between drunkenness and
singing. More than a mere prohibitionism, what strikes me is that both
drunkenness and worship share elements rather than reflecting polar opposites
(remember the first filling of the Spirit in the book of Acts?). In other
words, I suspect that drunkenness (NOT drinking!) relates less as an
oppositional image of right versus wrong and more like what a counterfeit bill
is to real currency. And so we worship and sing not only because it is right
and proper to give thanks – but because alcohol despite its potential pleasures
doesn’t fill us enough – can’t bring enough joy, isn’t celebratory enough, doesn’t
fulfill our dreams, or engage our body and mind like singing does. I once asked
my daughter Emma why she thought that Christians were commanded to sing. She
surprised me by saying, “singing is the most joyful, full-bodied response we
can give to a God we cannot hug.” I think she’s right. It uses both left and
right brain and releases dopamine that elevates our mood. Paul understands that
the command to sing is akin to hearing our mother command, “Go out and play!”
It’s an odd command, of course. It’s what we want to do and what we were made
for.
It's how we learn, for example. It provides quick access to
all kinds of truths, facts, helps and comforts. It’s how we learned our
A,B,C’s, it’s how I learned the books of the New Testament, it’s why
advertisers write jingles. The Apostle Paul recognized this. In a parallel
passage to Ephesians, Colossians 3:16, he writes: 16 Let
the message of Christ dwell among you richly as you teach and admonish one
another with all wisdom through psalms, hymns, and songs from the Spirit, singing
to God with gratitude in your hearts. Do you want more of Jesus and to be
filled with the Spirit? Sing. Music helps get the word of Christ into your
bones.
Friends, what if God commands us to sing because He thought we would enjoy it. It’s what we were made
for. And that means the more we enjoy it – the more we are being true to
ourselves and true to our God. It brings us joy because it leads us to God.
We were meant to be more than just a “you” and to sing
to one another. But it’s not just people individually – the church is
to be a symphony of good news, encouragement, and love. Did you notice that
while we always imagine our worship to be addressing God, Paul also says our
singing addresses one another. Why is this important?
First, it means that when I sing I remember that I am not
alone, that my faith does not rest always on my own feeble belief - that Paul’s
musical admonishment is to the Church in all its plurality – the near and the
far, the local and the foreign, the living and the dead. Dietrich Bonhoeffer
wrote in his book Life Together, “It
is not you that sings, it is the
church that is singing, and you, as a member .
. . may share in its song. Thus all singing together that is right must serve
to widen our spiritual horizon, make us see our little company as a member of
the great Christian church on earth, and help us willingly and gladly to join
our singing, be it feeble or good, to the song of the church.” So when we sing
a song – never forget to look at who wrote the song and when. Later during our
offering, for example, as we do every Sunday, we will sing the Doxology. It was
written by Thomas Ken in 1674. It has been translated and sung by millions of
Christians for hundreds of years. He
is your brother. When we sing to each other
we remember that the Church is big and wide, old and deep, ancient yet
relevant. If you are ever bored with the sermon – read your hymnal. It will
lead you to a corporate faith – a body bigger than your own.
Second, as you sing don’t be afraid to look around and be
present with those you sing with – they are your spiritual body. Whose head is
lifted high and whose head is bowed low? Who sits and seems troubled, who
raises their hands in joy, who seems at peace, who appears distressed? This
isn’t voyeurism – it’s body life in the Spirit. So we must challenge the
current trend of turning off lights and closing our eyes. It’s not about you. So
don’t be afraid to pray for others as we sing, to sing for others who cannot,
to use your joy to wrap the sorrowful, or bring your sorrow and despair into
this place and sing a lament to God. We sing together.
Singing and offering God thanks and praise helps us
grow in grace. Singing reminds us that we don’t have to worry. Too long
we have become so anxious about being right and not joyful enough about not
having to be – that this is God’s project and not our own. In one sense, we
sing because we don’t have to fix the world. From a certain perspective,
singing is graciously frivolous, wonderfully unnecessary. I like how it’s said
in the Eucharistic rite of the Catholic Church: “You have no need of our
praise, yet our desire to thank you is itself your gift. Our praise of
thanksgiving adds nothing to your greatness but makes us grow in your grace.” Why
sing? It hardly feels like something that would change anything, do anything. And yet we do so to remember whose we are, and
what He will do. We sing songs of thanksgiving because God has won and will
bring all together, but sometimes we forget.
In the documentary Alive Inside, we are introduced to
Henry – an elderly African-American man imprisoned by dementia. He is inert,
unresponsive, incapable of answering the simplest of questions and barely alive.
Henry has literally forgotten who he is. Take a look and see this as a parable
for your life and the church.
I love the words of Dr. Sacks – they almost sound like the
Apostle Paul’s: [When he listens to
music] “Henry is restored to himself. He has remembered who he is and
reacquired his identity for awhile through the power of music.” That’s why are
commanded to sing – so that we might remember and reacquire our identity as
those who are God’s, as those who were destined for love. Let’s sing and
remember for a little while that we are God’s and that God is good..
2 comments:
Okay, this one makes me weep. Yes to all of this. Yes, yes, yes!! Thanks, Jon.
Thanks, Diana. Always appreciate your words.
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