Thursday, April 21,
2022
Praise
the Lord! Praise God in his
sanctuary; praise him in his mighty heaven! Praise him for his mighty works; praise
his unequaled greatness! Praise
him with a blast of the ram’s horn; praise him with the lyre and harp! Praise him with the tambourine and
dancing; praise him with strings and flutes! Praise him with a clash of cymbals; praise
him with loud clanging cymbals. Let
everything that breathes sing praises to the Lord! Praise the Lord! Psalm 150:1-6
The Psalmist makes no small, obscure point here: everything that breathes
is expected to offer praises to God with whatever noise we’re capable. The problem isn’t understanding that…more, it’s
a matter of pride or shame in the ability to do just that.
There’s an old saying which was, more than likely,
coined to describe my singing ability: He
couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket.
My bride, Elizabeth, who knows what she’s doing with music, says it isn’t
my voice…it’s my ear. Well, I’ve got to
disagree; how many people do you know that sing the Star Spangled Banner out of
their ears?
Anyway…when I do sing, it’s one of three places: the car, when I’m driving alone,
the shower…again alone, or church (and definitely not
alone) when my voice joins with all the other worshippers to offer
heart’s praise to our Lord. At such
times the other voices make a fine garment to cover my part, which sounds like
two cats getting ready to fight to the death!
My decades-long struggle with trying to sing on-key,
on-pitch, to any degree acceptable to human hearing, started in church
Christmas programs. As soon as the first
rehearsal ended, without fail the director always found a wonderful
(non-singing) part for me, like handing-out programs, or reading a verse – anything
that did not include music.
Once, long ago, and in a faraway galaxy, a music
director in our church convinced me to solo one verse of When the Saints
Go Marching-In during our July 4th service. To this day I’m certain he had a wicked agenda,
something like give-him-enough-rope-and-he’ll-hang-himself…but the
pianist was skilled, knew me, and played loudly. In the spirit of good manners, and lacking
musical snobbery, the congregation applauded.
Perhaps they were just glad I was finished.
For You Today
This confession about my lack of musical
ability has a purpose. If I came close
to describing your singing voice, you know who you are. We are definitely not alone - by any means. But that didn’t stop God from compelling the
Psalmist to emphasize it: everything
that breathes is the way he made the job description for singing
His praises.
So…go git y’r rusty old bucket of a voice,
and let’s carry as much of that tune as God gives us strength. We’ll make a joyful racket[1] to the Lord,
and, to Him, it will be a sweet sound of symphony…praise the Lord!
[1] Title image: Pixabay.com Unless noted, Scripture quoted from The New Living Translation©
[1] See Psalm 98:6 Make a joyful symphony before the Lord, the King!
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