Wednesday, December 5, 2012

Karaoke night in heaven

We're a little more two weeks from the end of the Mayan calendar. We're a little more than three weeks from we all go plunging off the fiscal cliff.

What can you and me, Joe and Jane citizen, do about any of this? Doesn't it seem like it's time to go to sleep and wake to good news, the bad stuff having been washed away like flotsam after a storm? Oh, no? No good news to be had?

There's only one thing left to do, I'm afraid. It's Karaoke night in heaven, friends. Let us sing, as close to key as we can muster.

Let me explain.

This is from Exodus, the 15th chapter. It is called a song of deliverance.

(From the hand, heart and mind of Moses)
"I will sing to the Lord, for he has triumphed gloriously; he has hurled both horse and rider into the sea. The Lord is my strength and my song; he has given me victory. This is my God, and I will praise him -- my father's God, and I will exalt him. The Lord is a warrior; Yahweh is his name."

What a thrilling song to sing to a God who surely hears it all. We sing to him our thanks, our praise. We lift up to him all that we are, all that we have, all that we believe. The melody is thanksgiving. The lyrics are praise. The tempo is trust, and joy. 

Perhaps, just perhaps, we don't sing this wonderful song that goes on for 18 verses, because we haven't felt we were on the ledge, with enemies snapping at our heels and The Enemy trying to push us off. Perhaps we've lost our praise ability, because our thanksgiving is simply habit. Perhaps we've never needed a sea parted, a way out of the deep water, an outstretched hand to lift us out seconds from drowning. Or perhaps we simply don't notice.

Do we have the ability to learn to dance again? Is it possible God's own song will get our feet moving again?

Moses makes it all clearer by the time he reaches the sixth verse. He writes, "Your right hand, O Lord, is glorious in power. Your right hand, O Lord, smashes the enemy. In the greatness of your majesty, you overthrow those who rise against you. You unleash your blazing fury; it consumes them like straw."

Pharaoh's men nipping at our heels? Call on the Lord.
Sea in front of us, no path around, no path through? Call on the Lord.
Egyptians behind, Syrians to the left, Jordanians to the right, Palestinians all around? Call on the Lord.

We've barely scratched the surface of what we're meant to be, friends, and yet many of us are perfectly content to quit, give up, stop what we're doing, heck even give up on what we've planned but not even started. I'm afraid some are quite content to believe that the world will end in a couple of weeks because to go on is too much.

We look around and our pensions are gone, our bank accounts are as shrunk as any head could ever be, and we're trembling in this living nightmare. So let the end come, we say, shouting to the heavy winds of climate change.

But Moses wrote, "With your unfailing love you lead the people you have redeemed. In your might, you guide them to your sacred home. The peoples hear and tremble; anguish grips those who live in Philistia. The leaders of Edom are terrified; the nobles of Moab tremble. All who live in Canaan melt away; terror and dread fall upon them. The power of your arm makes them lifeless as stone until your people pass by, O Lord."

Bottom line? What have we to fear? God is with us. If God is with us, who can be against us? Seriously. Who can ever, EVER, be against us? Doesn't that lift the heavy burdens many of us face? Well, doesn't it?

Stop worrying, whining and weeping. Our God, who split the Red Sea like a log, is on our side. What have we to be fearful of? We simply (and although I write the word it's actually not nearly as simple as I make it out to be) need to count on him, rely on Yahweh, trust in the promises, in the Word, in His name. Trust. Rely. Have faith in.

Though we can't see where He's taking us, just leave it in the hands of the Father, in the hands of the healer, in the hands of Jesus and walk on down the path.

A few years back, I began to understand how powerful He was, is, will always be. I began to praise Him for what he's done, is doing, will do. I began ....

Now, I listen. I learn. I love.

"You will bring them in and plant them on your own mountain -- the place, O Lord, reserved for your own dwelling, the sanctuary, O Lord, that you hands have established. The Lord will reign forever and ever."

Moses' sister, Miriam, picked up a tambourine and all the women began to play their tambourines and dance. The night was a long one, with smiles as plentiful as pieces of cooked fowl. They danced and sang and cried long tears of joy. "Sing to the Lord," Miriam sang loudly and cheerfully, "for he has triumphed gloriously; he has hurled both horse and rider into the sea."

Maybe you've not seen that type of action. God hasn't, uh, killed for you. That's not, I believe, the point, which is this: God has taken care of us, taken us this far. He won't forget about us now. He won't leave us to face the army by ourselves. He won't let the waves crash over us because we trusted him in the first place.

He is a God who watches over us, cares for us, is worthy of our songs of praise on a long night of singing and eating or even a dark night of the soul when the only sounds are moans and we fast not out of reverence but because we don't have enough quarters to buy some bread..

This Advent season, let's kick-start our singing, our dancing, laughing, hugging, sharing gifts of memory and of a future that includes our Savior doing the same. He is God. We, thankfully, are not. He is powerful; we are not. Hopefully, we are trusting, and I know He is trustworthy.

He is our God. Exalt Him, praise Him, sing to Him.



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