Tuesday, afternoon,
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way,
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.

Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.

I'm looking at myself, reflections of my mind,
It's just the kind of day to leave myself behind,
So gently swaying thru the fairy-land of love,
If you'll just come with me and see the beauty of

Tuesday afternoon.
Tuesday afternoon.

Tuesday, afternoon,
I'm just beginning to see,
Now I'm on my way,
It doesn't matter to me,
Chasing the clouds away.

Something, calls to me,
The trees are drawing me near,
I've got to find out why
Those gentle voices I hear
Explain it all with a sigh.
"The Afternoon:  Forever Afternoon" (also known as "Tuesday Afternoon")
 
            Many years ago, the Moody Blues was one of our favorite bands.  When the televised version of the Red Rock concert came on, we watched every minute of it and then bought the cassette.  (That's how we listened to recordings in those "olden" days.)  Keith had begun losing his hearing when he was in the service and was already in hearing aids at 27, so "listening" to music was difficult.  He asked me to please get him the lyrics and I did—every lyric for every song on the recording.
            As pleased as punch, he sat down and read through them.  He grew quieter and quieter as he read.  Finally he said, "I wish I did not have these lyrics.  They mean absolutely nothing, and now I don't like the music nearly as much."
            One set of those lyrics, and one of the best as I recall, opens this post.  If you haven't yet, scroll up and read them.  If you can tell me what it means, you are better than I.  Basically it's a bunch of pretentious nonsense, cotton candy fluff masquerading as "deep" thought. 
            That made me think and I began to experiment with our hymns.  Read them—don't sing them—as poetry and see what they actually say.  If necessary to keep the tune from cropping up in your mind, read them aloud.  Suddenly the hymn will become either one of your favorites or one you can easily do without.  The tune and the rhythm won't matter.
            New or old really has nothing to do with it.  Granted, the older hymns have already had a couple hundred years of culling out and as a result they may have the advantage here.  But you will still find one or two that make you feel like all you have been singing all these years is "Doo-wah-diddy-diddy-dum-diddy-doo" as far as their spiritual value goes. 
          Another caveat:  save the chorus for last, don't read it over and over.  That waters down the punch of the verses.  That does not mean you should never sing the refrain more than once.  Several of the Psalms have refrains in them, Psalm 80 for instance, which repeats its refrain three times.  Obviously the Holy Spirit meant them to be read more than once—they repeat the theme.  But for this test, you need to avoid the repetition and see what's left.  Sometimes you discover that you are doing a whole lot of singing for practically nothing of worth. 
          So why do this test?  Because suddenly you will understand that it isn't the spirituality of the hymn you like, it's the rhythm or the melody or the harmony, something that did not come along until a couple of millennia after the Psalms, by the way, and early on in only rudimentary form.  And then, I hope, you will remember what our singing is supposed to be about.  "Teaching and admonishing," (Col 3:16); edifying (1 Cor 14:15-26); "a sacrifice of praise" (Heb 13:15).  If the song does not do one or more of those things, does it really need to be sung?
 
Psalm 34  A Psalm of David:  Come O children, listen to me; I will teach you the fear of the Lord, Psa 34:11.
 
Dene Ward
 

I imagine we could all sit around telling stories for hours about the misheard lyrics our children sang before they learned to read along in the songbook.  I will never forget the day Lucas asked his song-leading grandfather (Papa) to sing, "He whispers the peas to me."  Or the day I was standing in the kitchen and heard his sweet little voice singing, "When the roll is called under the water."  His little brother had his own versions of the standard hymns.  One day as we were wandering through the produce department at the grocery store he said, "Mom, sing the song about the sandals."  "The sandals?" I asked, running through familiar hymns in my head as quickly as I could.  "Yes," he said, "all other ground is sinking sandals."
            All of those are favorite stories, but I was reminded recently of one I like even better.  As usual, I was working on something while my two toddlers were playing, and just as usual, they were singing.  Lucas, at 3, could carry a tune and had a larger range than most toddlers his age, a direct product, I think, of growing up hearing a capella music several times a week.  He had been humming along and suddenly I heard, "No tears, no tears up there.  Sorrow and planes, we'll all have fun."
            I was still blinking my eyes in surprise when he asked, "Mommy, what are sorrow and tears?  They must be bad guys, right?  Because they don't get to go to Heaven."  That little guy could teach us all a lesson or two.
            First, he didn't just sing—he thought about what he was singing.  Maybe he didn't get the words right, but he got what he understood.  He knew he was singing about Heaven so "We'll all have fun," made perfect sense to him.  And evidently, he had enjoyed that plane ride he had been on a couple of months earlier, so planes in Heaven made sense too.
            Second, when there was something he didn't understand, like "sorrow" and "tears," he figured something out about them with just a little logic.  They won't be in Heaven so they must be bad, and when you are a three year old boy who loves Superman, "bad" means "bad guys."  Then he asked someone else to make sure he was right.
            And third, he was thinking about what he sang long after the worship had ended. 
            Surely, I don't have to spell out the lessons in this one.  Do you know what you are singing, which is the title of this little series I have written for several years now?  (You can find them all in the archives under Music.)  Do you think about the songs you have sung to worship God?  Do you keep on singing them, even after you leave the meetinghouse, and perhaps sing them with even more understanding?
            If a three year old can, surely we can too.
 
Sing praises to God, sing praises: Sing praises unto our King, sing praises. For God is the King of all the earth: Sing ye praises with understanding (Ps 47:6-7).
 
Dene Ward

I started taking piano lessons when I was about seven years old.  It was not “formal” training in a studio, but just a few lessons from a friend of my mother’s to see if I was interested.  I still remember the first lesson, the first book I had, and the first tune in it.  “C-D-E made a boat; round and round the pond he’d float.”
            A few months later this friend told my parents I needed a “real” teacher.  Frankly, I think she was just fine as a teacher.  I learned the keys, the notes, and how to count in a few short weeks, but she insisted so off we went. 
            My next teacher had recitals.  I still remember that first recital too, and I can still play my first recital piece:  “Arab Horsemen” by Hazel Cobb.  Those horsemen were a long way from the guy named “CDE” and his boat.  Instead of one hand playing three notes, I had both hands running over six octaves on the piano, and a whole page played with my arms crossed!
            As I sat in the student row waiting my turn to play I saw other students wringing their hands or wiping sweat off their palms onto their skirts or pants.  What was the problem, I wondered?  It never dawned on me that they were nervous about playing in front of people.  I wasn’t nervous.  I knew my piece and could play it flawlessly.  What was the big deal?
            A few years later we had moved and the new teacher entered me in a talent competition in the County Fair.  Once again I was mystified by the nervous entrants around me.  I had a great piece and knew it inside and out.  I had spent three hours one particular day analyzing every note, every nuance of phrase, and every dynamic marking.  I got up and played it, and won a blue ribbon. 
            The next year I entered another competition.  This time the piece was more difficult.  It was written only a year or two before by Aaron Copland, a contemporary American composer.  It did not make much sense to my classically oriented ear.  Going from this note to the next seemed totally at random to me and I had a difficult time memorizing it.  But the rules for that category said I had to play it.  
            For the first time in my life I was not comfortable waiting my turn.  Then when I got up to play, it happened--I went totally blank.  I could not even start the piece.  The judges were kind.  They let me look at the first line.  Then I walked back to the piano and my daily practice automatically kicked in.  I played it perfectly, and aced the Beethoven rondo that followed.  In fact, Beethoven felt like an old friend at that point.
            Ever since that day I have experienced what everyone else does—performance anxiety.  I played a solo professional recital once and was sick to my stomach about five minutes before I walked on.  That one time when I forgot what to play has never left me.  From then on I knew I was as mortal as anyone and I always wondered when it would happen again.  Actually it did happen once in the middle of my senior recital, a requirement for a degree in music education.  I was playing a sonata and made up about four bars on the second page of the first movement before Haydn’s music found its way back into my hands.  Good thing you get points for covering up a slip when you perform.  I still got my A.
            Can you imagine how those apostles felt when Jesus, the one they had always counted on to have the right answer at the right time suddenly left them?  He knew what would happen and gave them this promise:  And when they bring you to trial and deliver you up, be not anxious beforehand what you are to say but say whatever is given you to say, for it is not you who speak, but the Holy Spirit, Mark 13:11.  Can you imagine a more comforting promise?  I suppose that is why I have always had difficulties with those who claim that Paul misspoke in Acts 23:3, and that he had to apologize.  Don’t they believe that God kept His promise to these brave men?  Try reading what Paul said with the same tone Elijah must surely have had when he spoke to the prophets of Baal in 1 Kings 18.  It wouldn’t be the first time that God used sarcasm through the voice of a man.  Either that or He broke His promise to Paul; you can’t have it both ways.
            Wouldn’t it be great to have that promise today?  But wait a minute--in a way we do.  Those men did not have the written word.  Paul himself promised that one day the gifts that allowed one to prophesy a part and another to prophesy another part would be done away because the entire revelation would be “perfect,” complete in all details (1 Cor 13:8-12.  That is what we have—the whole shebang.
            So why do we experience performance anxiety when someone asks a question, or when it comes time to speak up in the face of false teaching?  Is it because we are just a little anxious about choosing exactly the right way to say it, or is it because we didn’t prepare ourselves with daily practice, analyzing and memorizing?  One is understandable, the other is inexcusable.  We may not have all the answers on the tips of our tongues as they did, but we have the source of those answers if we will just take the time to look.  “I don’t know, but I can find out,” may be a better testimony than acting like we do know it all.  It tells our friends, if an ordinary guy like him can find it, so can I.
            Those 13 men never knew when they would be called upon to speak up for God.  We don’t either.  Start practicing what to say; start considering all the possibilities. God has given you what you need, but it’s up to you to make use of it.
 
I will hope continually and praise you yet more and more.  My mouth will tell of your righteous acts, of your deeds of salvation all the day for their number is past my knowledge.  With the mighty deeds of the Lord God I will come; I will remind them of your righteousness, yours alone.  Psalm 71:14-16.
 
Dene Ward
           
 

I always had themed recitals for my students, including skits and ensemble numbers.  I seldom had to hear parents complaining about boring recitals. 
One year we had one called "Mystery!"  All of the songs and piano pieces had titles like "Spooky Footsteps," "Descent into the Crypt," "Through the Night Mist," and "Dixieland Detectives."  All the students came dressed as a famous detective from TV or fiction.  We had Sherlock Holmes, Dr Kay Scarpetta, Magnum PI, Columbo, and Miss Scarlet from the Clue game, among many others.
            Nathan was home from college that week and he and I worked up a special duet.  First, I put him in his college chorus tuxedo and introduced him as the detective whose theme he and I would be performing—Peter Gunn.  If you don't know the name, Peter Gunn was the first detective created for television rather than being adapted from some other media.  The show starred Craig Stevens and Lola Albright, who played his girlfriend Edie Hart.  It debuted on September 22, 1958 and ran for three seasons.  Even if you have never seen the show (I never saw one until I was grown and saw it on the oldies channel), I bet you have heard the music.  Talk about modern and catchy—this one has it all.  Blue notes, syncopation, quarter note triplets against a steady eighth note beat.  You can't help but move something when you hear it—a toe, a knee, a shoulder or two.  It won an Emmy and two Grammys for Henry Mancini and was performed and recorded by many others.  Nathan and I have played it in a couple of places since then, and it is always an audience pleaser.
            Audience pleasers.  That's a good phrase when you are talking about a concert performance.  That's what a concert is for—pleasing the audience.  That is NOT what worship is about.  Worship is about pleasing God.  I happened to think about that when a song leader I know, a trained musician, by the way, who does an outstanding job of leading, told me that he was criticized for leading "boring songs."
            First of all, who exactly is being bored?  If it's the audience, then maybe they should remember what they are doing—worshipping God not pleasing themselves.  That ought to take care of the "boring" problem right there.
            Second, why is it "boring?"  If it's because they don't have enough Bible knowledge to recognize Biblical references, nor enough depth to their thinking to understand the allusions and feel the goosebumps at some of the most beautiful poetry ever written, then they should be ashamed of themselves.  The Bible may be easy to understand, but it is not a comic book.  Nor is it a See-Jane-Run first grade primer.  The older I get, the more I love the songs that speak the Word of God in lyrics that truly make me think and keep me thinking long after the last chord has rung in the rafters. 
            Neither the song leader, the prayer leader, nor the preacher should have to try so hard to keep our attention if our worship is sincere.  If the only things that keep me interested in either the singing or the sermons and classes is laughter-inducing stories, toe-tapping rhythm, and shoulder-lifting blue notes, I may as well roll in a piano and have Nathan come with me and play a rousing rendition of "Peter Gunn."  I promise you'll like it and won't be bored.  Whether or not you get anything spiritual from it, whether or not you hear any teaching and admonishing, whether or not God is pleased, is another matter altogether.
 
But solid food is for the mature, for those who have their powers of discernment trained by constant practice to distinguish good from evil.  (Heb 5:14).
 
Dene Ward

Read these lyrics and tell me what this hymn is about:

I’m pressing on the upward way,
New heights I’m gaining every day;
Still praying as I’m upward bound,
“Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.”
Lord, lift me up and let me stand,
By faith, on Heaven’s table land,
A higher plane than I have found;
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.

My heart has no desire to stay
Where doubts arise and fears dismay;
Though some may dwell where those abound,
My prayer, my aim, is higher ground.
Lord, lift me up and let me stand,
By faith, on Heaven’s table land,
A higher plane than I have found;
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.

I want to live above the world,
Though Satan's darts at me are hurled;
For faith has caught the joyful sound,
The song of saints on higher ground.
Lord, lift me up and let me stand,
By faith, on Heaven’s table land,
A higher plane than I have found;
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.

I want to scale the utmost height
And catch a gleam of glory bright;
But still I’ll pray till Heav’n I’ve found,
“Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.”
Lord, lift me up and let me stand,
By faith, on Heaven’s table land,
A higher plane than I have found;
Lord, plant my feet on higher ground.

            I bet nearly every one of my readers said, "It's about Heaven."  That's what I thought, for years.  But check out the line in the second verse that says, "Though some may dwell where these abound, my prayer, my aim is higher ground."  Then look at the third verse, "I want to live above the world."  This song is NOT about going to Heaven.   It's about living in this world but with a spiritual mindset on a spiritual plane.  This song is about those somewhat mysterious things Paul calls in Ephesians "the heavenlies" (1:3; 1:20; 2:6; 3:10; 6:12).  Some of you may see "heavenly places."  The word "places" is supposed to be understood, but few of us have any idea what this is at all.
            Whatever "the heavenlies" are, or wherever they are, that is where our spiritual blessings originate (1:3).  It is where Christ sits (1:20).  Right there you are saying, "See?  It has to be Heaven."  But keep going.  It is also where we now sit with Christ after having been raised up, not from physical death, but from the death of sin (2:1, cf Rom 6:3,4).  It is also the place from which the spiritual beings look down on us now in the church (3:10) to see the wisdom of God, and it is the place where we daily fight our battles against Satan and his demons (6:12).  It is a place that only the spiritually mature are aware of, and it is the place we long to live ("above the world") so we can keep our minds on God and Christ and the mission we have as their servants, and with their help, win those battles!
            Romans 8 says it like this:  For those who live according to the flesh set their minds on the things of the flesh, but those who live according to the spirit set their minds on the things of the spirit. For to set the mind on the flesh is death, but to set the mind on the spirit is life and peace (Rom 8:5-6).
            Philippians says it like this:  Have this mind in you, which was also in Christ Jesus (Phil 2:5), and …whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honorable, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things (Phil 4:8).
            If you look hard enough, you can find the idea all over the New Testament.  Now go back and read those lyrics again.  We must be spiritual enough not to let this world distract us—trials, sorrows, persecutions, politics, economics, nor any other purely material and temporary thing.  Then we can truly see what this life should be all about.
 
So if you have been raised with the Messiah, seek what is above, where the Messiah is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on what is above, not on what is on the earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with the Messiah in God (Col 3:1-3).
 
Dene Ward
 

As a former piano teacher for many years, I cannot help but give advice occasionally.  So I was listening to a young student play one day, a beginner actually, and noticed that he had a problem with his finger numbers.  If you will notice on your own hands, if you hold them out in front of you, they run the opposite from each other, with both thumbs in the middle.  So in piano, where playing with the incorrect finger can keep one from increasing facility and smooth playing, knowing which finger is which is fundamental.  I have always taught my beginners the little saying, "Tommy Thumb is finger 1, finger 3 is tallest finger, finger 5 if smallest finger."  Then I have them hold their hands together so that the fingers of each hand match, and count 1-2-3-4-5, moving the correct finger of each hand with each number.  Then when they spread their hands apart, they can see that the hands are mirror images of each other and do not run in the same direction.  It worked for forty years with countless students.
            So when I saw this little guy playing fingers 1—1—2-3-4---, when he should have been playing 5—5—5-4-3---, I knew he had not gotten the memo, so to speak.  After he finished playing (the whole left hand backwards), I applauded and complimented his rhythm and his touch and then asked if I could show him something.  He was an amenable little guy, so we went through the Tommy Thumb rhyme a couple of times, along with the rest of the routine.  He looked at me long and hard, then started playing again and played exactly the same thing—wrong.  Then he got up from the piano and flounced off, stopping only to turn around and say, "My thumb is NOT Tommy!"
            I must say that I laughed.  It was funny.  And it was new for me, something that had never happened before.  But then, maybe it had.
            A long, long time ago, God sent the prophet Nathan to tell King David a story as if it were real.  After hearing the story, which I am sure you have all heard (2 Sam 12:1-6, just in case), David was incensed.  He pronounced an instant judgment on the evil man Nathan had spoken of.  You see, he didn't get it.  His thumb was NOT Tommy.  Finally, Nathan had to say, "Thou art the man" (2 Sam 12:7).  When it's YOUR thumb, when you are the one being talked about, the picture which had been so very clear, suddenly becomes muddy.  We are all prone to it.
            The most difficult part of studying the Bible is, and always has been, applying the message to oneself.  No one wants to admit wrong, especially when it becomes crystal clear exactly how wrong one has been.  James talks about looking in the mirror and then walking away without changing a thing (James 1:23-24).  If I see my hair is a mess but don't brush it, if I see mustard on my shirt but don't change it, if I see green in my teeth but don't brush them, exactly how much good did it do to even look in the first place?  That is exactly how much good Bible study does for us when we won't apply what we hear.
            The little guy I mentioned is playing quite well now.  He eventually got the message that his thumb was indeed Tommy.  What messages are we missing?
 
As for you, son of man, your people who talk together about you by the walls and at the doors of the houses, say to one another, each to his brother, ‘Come, and hear what the word is that comes from the LORD.’ And they come to you as people come, and they sit before you as my people, and they hear what you say but they will not do it; for with lustful talk in their mouths they act; their heart is set on their gain. And behold, you are to them like one who sings lustful songs with a beautiful voice and plays well on an instrument, for they hear what you say, but they will not do it (Ezek 33:30-32).
 
Dene Ward
 

When peace like a river attendeth my way
When sorrows like sea billows roll
Whatever my lot, Thou hast taught me to say
It is well, it is well with my soul

Refrain:
It is well (it is well)
With my soul (with my soul)
It is well, it is well with my soul

Though Satan should buffet, though trials should come
Let this blest assurance control
That Christ (yes, He has) has regarded my helpless estate
And has shed His own blood for my soul

My sin, oh the bliss of this glorious thought (a thought)
My sin, not in part, but the whole (every bit, every bit, all of it)
Is nailed to the cross, and I bear it no more (yes)
Praise the Lord, praise the Lord, O my soul

And Lord, haste the day when my faith shall be sight
The clouds be rolled back as a scroll
The trump shall resound, and the Lord shall descend
Even so, it is well with my soul
           
Most of us know, love, and sing this song.  It is one of the most moving in the hymnal, especially when you know the backstory.
            Horatio Spafford, the writer of the lyrics, was an attorney in Chicago who owned significant properties.  He and his wife Anna had five children.  In 1871, the only boy, a four-year-old, died of pneumonia.  In 1873, the Great Chicago Fire took a large portion of his properties, putting the family in dire financial straits.  Things began to improve and the family made plans to visit England.  Unexpected business came up and Spafford put his wife and four daughters on the ship to England, promising to arrive as soon as possible.  Four days out the ship collided with a large Scottish vessel and sank, taking all four of the girls.  Anna survived, hanging onto a piece of wreckage.  Most of us know that story.  It is justifiably famous.  Now go back and read those lyrics again, written by a man who had lost almost everything.
            "Whatever my lot thou hast taught me to say, It is well with my soul."  Could we have written that after some of the trials in our lives?  As for me, I am not sure, but I do know that given the New Testament's demand that we learn to live not for this world, but for the one to come, I think I should be able to.  If then you have been raised with Christ, seek the things that are above, where Christ is, seated at the right hand of God. Set your minds on things that are above, not on things that are on earth. For you have died, and your life is hidden with Christ in God. When Christ who is your life appears, then you also will appear with him in glory (Col 3:1-4).
            I think we all understand this hymn and the point it makes, whether we can emulate the author or not.  But one phrase remains misunderstood by most because of our ignorance of the words of scripture and how some of them were once used.  Look at that last verse.  First the lyricist speaks of the day God will come in final judgment.  Then he begins the next phrase with "Even so."  Most of us would immediately think, "In spite of."  So the verse would take on the meaning, "One day the Lord is coming, but in spite of this, it is well with me soul."  I don't really think that is what we want to be saying.
            The people who wrote hymns in those times, were so well steeped in the scripture, especially the King James Version, that they tended to speak and write that way.  "Even so" can be two separate words in the Greek or it can be just one.  The one we want is, I think, nai.  That word is a word of strong affirmation, similar to "Amen."  Most of the time it is translated "Yea" or "Yes," but in the older versions also "Verily" and "Truth."  Look at this verse in particular.  What then did you go out to see? A prophet? Yes, I tell you, and more than a prophet (Luke 7:26).  Jesus is making the point that you may have thought you were going out to see a prophet when you went to hear John, but he was much more than just a prophet.  Affirmation.  Certainty.
            So what does that mean about our hymn and the phrase in question?  It means, "The Lord is coming and yes, I am anxious for his arrival."  It is similar to the apostle John's sentiments in the Revelation when he says, He who testifies to these things says, “Yes, I am coming quickly.” Amen. Come, Lord Jesus (Rev 22:20).  Is that how we feel about that Day, the Day the Lord returns and takes us home?
            This hymn has more than one challenging thought in it.  Next time you sing it, consider what it truly meant to the man who wrote it, and what it should mean to us.
 
Behold, he is coming with the clouds, and every eye will see him, even those who pierced him, and all tribes of the earth will wail on account of him. Even so. Amen (Rev 1:7).
And inasmuch as it is appointed for men to die once and after this comes judgment, so Christ also, having been offered once to bear the sins of many, will appear a second time for salvation without reference to sin, to those who eagerly await Him (Heb 9:27-28).
 
Dene Ward

If you have been following this series on various hymns and their sometimes mysterious meanings, we will take a bit of a detour today with something that has worried me a lot lately.
            With the proliferation of more modern hymns, especially those called “praise songs,” I have started wondering if we have completely lost our understanding of the purpose of singing.  It isn’t “because I like the tune,” or “the beat.”  It isn’t “because it makes me feel good.”  Singing in the services is not, not, not, capital N-O-T, not done to please ourselves.  Singing is part of our worship of God and therefore to please Him, and it is an extremely important part of our teaching.  After all, how did you learn your alphabet?  You sang it until you had it memorized.  I am sure that is true of most of your Bible class memory work too—the twelve apostles, the books of the Bible, the sons of Jacob—you learned by singing.
            Let the word of Christ dwell in you richly, teaching and admonishing one another in all wisdom, singing psalms and hymns and spiritual songs, with thankfulness in your hearts to God. Col 3:16
            What is it then, brethren? When ye come together, each one hath a psalm, hath a teaching, hath a revelation, hath a tongue, hath an interpretation. Let all things be done unto edifying. 1Cor 14:26
            Yes, I can also find verses that tell us to praise God in song (e.g., Psalm 100:2; James 5:13).  When I was a child we had about a six hymn repertoire of praise songs.  But just like usual, that old pendulum has swung way too far and now that’s just about all some of us sing. 
            As I was going through some old hymnals recently I found a hymn that stopped me in my tracks.  Read these lyrics and then think about a few things with me:

And Yet You’re Sinning Still
By J. G. Dailey
(inside cover – The Life of Victory by Meade MacGuire)

When Moses led his people from Egypt’s sunny plain,
From bondage sore and grievous, from hardship, toil, and plain.
They soon began to murmur against the sovereign will;
Forgetting God’s deliverance, we find them sinning still.

When Moses on the mountain had talked with God alone,
Receiving His commandments on tables made of stone,
The people brought their jewels, the sacrifice did kill,
The golden calf they worshiped, and kept on sinning still.

How often when your dear ones were lying near to death,
You earnestly entreated with every passing breath,
“O Father, spare my darling, and I will do Thy will!”
Your prayer was heard and answered, and yet you’re sinning still.

When sickness overtook you, when sorely racked with pain,
You said if God would spare you, you’d bear the cross again;
He gave you strength of body. He gave you strength of will,
But you forgot your promise, and you are sinning still.

How graciously the Savior has lengthened out your days!
His mercy, never ending, is guiding all your ways.
O brother, heed the warning, your broken vows fulfill,
Lest death should overtake you, and find you sinning still.

Chorus:
Oh, flee the wrath impending, and learn His gracious will,
Lest Jesus, coming quickly, should find you sinning still!
           
           Trust me as a musician when I say the music to this song is pleasant and easy to sing.  Now ask yourself this question:  how well would this go over if you sang it in your assembly this coming Sunday?  I have a feeling more than one group would want to run the song leader out on a rail.  Who would want to sing such harsh accusations to one another?  Who would want to be forced to really look at their lives?  Who would want to face up to their hypocrisy, a hypocrisy we all practice occasionally when we excuse our behavior with a “That’s different?”  Who among us really wants admonition after all, even if God did say that was an important purpose in singing (Col 3:16)?
            Look at the songs you sing this coming Sunday.  If you strike out all the repetitious phrases, how much “meat” are you really singing to one another?  Or is it just a bunch of feel good fluff?  How many times is it a matter of patting your feet instead of buffeting your body?  How many times do we want to lift our spirits instead of bowing our hearts in repentance?          No, we had rather sing songs we like, songs that pat us on the back and make us feel good.  We all want to be told we are just fine and nothing needs to change at all.
            “Teaching and admonishing one another,” God said.  “Let all things be done unto edifying,” He added.  Sometimes those things are painful.  You cannot anesthetize yourself to that pain and think it will still do you any good.  Godly repentance includes sorrow, Paul tells us.  We need to add that to our repertoire too.
 
Then I will teach transgressors your ways, and sinners will return to you. Deliver me from bloodguiltiness, O God, O God of my salvation, and my tongue will sing aloud of your righteousness. Ps 51:13-14
 
To find the music go to: 
http://remnant-online.com/smf/index.php?topic=15818.0
 
Dene Ward

“By Christ Redeemed” is a Lord’s Supper hymn, specifically designed for that purpose by the author of the words, George Rawson.  Rawson was born in Leeds, England on June 5, 1807, and practiced law there for many years.  He wrote several hymns and helped compile at least one collection.  His hymns are known for refinement of thought and propriety of language.  In today’s atmosphere of informality in every place and circumstance, that may be why we seldom sing them any longer.  And it is our loss.
            We did sing this particular hymn not long ago, the first time in years, and I noticed a somewhat puzzling phrase in what was our third, and last verse (he originally wrote six verses).
And thus that dark betrayal night
with the last advent we unite,
by one bright chain of loving rite,
until he come.
With what “advent” do we “unite” and how?
            An advent is an arrival or a coming.  The disciples were told as Jesus ascended, “Men of Galilee, why do you stand looking into heaven? This Jesus, who was taken up from you into heaven, will come in the same way as you saw him go into heaven.” Acts 1:11.  Paul adds in 1 Cor 11:26, “For as often as you eat this bread and drink the cup, you proclaim the Lord's death until he comes.” It is the coming of the Lord that we are speaking of and we are to take the Lord’s Supper on a regular basis until that happens.
            Paul says this in a context of unity that begins earlier than chapter 11—we are all one body and therefore we partake of the one bread.  If you follow carefully through several chapters, you will see that the “body” we are supposed to be “discerning” is the Lord’s body, the church.  We are communing not just with the Lord, but with each other.  Why else would it matter that we are to do it “When we are come together?”  When we tuck our noses into our navels and ignore one another as the plates are passed, we are missing the point.  Taking the Supper should unite us as we consider that we were all sinners and we were all saved by the same sacrifice. 
          And far more profound is this:  we are also connecting with our spiritual ancestors.  Each of us, as we take the Lord’s Supper, unite with a long chain of believers, hundreds of thousands—perhaps even millions by this time--in showing our faith that he will indeed come again.
 
For the Lord himself will descend from heaven with a cry of command, with the voice of an archangel, and with the sound of the trumpet of God. And the dead in Christ will rise first. Then we who are alive, who are left, will be caught up together with them in the clouds to meet the Lord in the air, and so we will always be with the Lord. Therefore encourage one another with these words. 1Thess 4:16-18
 
Dene Ward
 

While my students did win solo awards in piano solo, art song, and musical theater, our specialty seemed to be piano ensembles.  The point of an ensemble is not just to play the right notes at the right time, but to make a piano duet sound like one person with four hands and a trio like one person with six.  Not an easy thing to do when one partner plays with a heavy hand and the other with light finger work, one with the ebb and flow of rubato and the other the steadiness of a machine.
            My teacher friends laughed at me when they saw all my students make a point to approach the piano together, sit at the same time, put their hands on and off the keys at the same time, then stand together and leave together.  I guess they never thought about whose students were bringing back trophies and whose weren’t.  The point of all that togetherness was to infuse oneness into them.  Your performance starts from the moment your names are called; that single four- or six-handed creature acted as one from then till they hit their seats in the audience afterward.
            The performance aspects were trickier.  Who has the melody?  Does the partner have a counter-melody or an oom-pah-pah chordal accompaniment?  Does the partner enter with the same melody a few bars later?  How can the one with the steady underlying rhythm make it stable enough to help the syncopated partner, without overpowering him?  Are the dynamics terraced or interlaced?  How each partner plays his part depends upon the answer to all those questions.  What a lot to remember and listen for. 
            I had one duo that excelled at all of this.  They played together for ten years and by the time the older graduated from high school, I was positive they were even breathing in sync while they performed.  They played pieces where one partner got up, walked around the piano and sat down to play again; then later in the piece got up and went back to his original position, all without stopping, without errors, and without one of them falling off the bench!  They played pieces where the one higher on the keyboard picked up his hand and put it between the other’s two hands and then continued playing, without a hitch.  If you were not watching, you would not know anything had happened.  Once they played a piece where one’s left hand was on the black keys above the other’s right hand on the white keys, and they never once got in each other’s way.  Now that’s teamwork.  (Did I mention that Nathan was one of the partners?)
            Perfecting the piece was not enough for them.  They even created entrances, with both walking down opposite aisles exactly together and approaching the judges’ bench with a flourish precisely at the same time in the middle of the front row.  At the end of the piece they each crossed the outside hand to bounce off the last note with the inside hand, and held their hands up for exactly the same three count—nonverbally.  They simply knew each other that well.
             And I remember my baby duet.  A little stepbrother and -sister act in the Primary 1 category performing “O Susanna.”  When one had the melody the other played softer; when the other came in with the melody, the first one pulled her tone way down almost instinctively, and then back up again when it was her turn.  These were 8 year olds, mind you, and it was flawless, seamless, and so amazing the judges looked at each other as soon as it happened.  I knew then we had it, and sure enough, we did.
            That is what teamwork is all about.  You know that old coach’s saying, “There is no I in team?”  Unfortunately, many people still manage to spell “me,” and the team is never as unified as it could be.  Teamwork means doing what is best for the group.  It means constantly putting someone else ahead of me.  It means making an objective judgment of what is most important at a given time and not forcing my issues to the forefront if they are less critical than another’s.  It means not complaining if I don’t have the lead and trying to horn my way in anyway.  It means not whining when I don’t get the praise I think I deserve.  If one of my students had said, “I don’t care if I don’t have the melody.  I am just as important as her, so I’m playing my chords just as loudly,” they would have never won anything.  In fact, they would never have gotten a superior at the district level and not made it to the state competition.  What’s best for me will very often ruin it for everyone else.  And we all need to have that feeling.   If we do, no one feels left out or unappreciated. 
            Why is it that we cannot see these things when we are the ones involved?  Are we really so dense?  Is it pride?  Is it arrogance?  Is it our rights-oriented society?  Whatever it is, we need to get over it, so the church can once again make known the manifold wisdom of God, Eph 3:10, and we, through our unity, can cause the world to believe, John 17:21.
 
Doing nothing through faction or through vainglory, but in lowliness of mind, each counting other better than himself, not looking each of you to his own things, but each of you also to the things of others.  Phil 2:3,4          
 
Dene Ward