We sing a few hymns written in a minor key.  They are always more difficult for the congregation to learn, primarily because we are used to major keys, the good old “do-re-mi-fa-sol-la-ti-do.”  Practically anyone can sing that scale and get it right (if a little flat), even if they have never studied music.  I would guess that 80-90% of modern Western music (as in “not Oriental,” which is how we use the term “Western” in music theory) is written in a major key.  Minor keys are less common, but common enough that they do not sound too odd to our ears—we still “get it” when we hear them.

            One of the ways we introduce minor keys to a child is to talk about “happy” music and “sad” music.  “Sad sounding” merely touches the surface of what makes a key minor, but it’s a good place to start, especially with a young elementary school child, or even an adult non-musician.

            Often at the end of a minor (sad sounding) composition, the third note will be raised to the note it would have been if it were the parallel major, something we call a Piccardy third.  Suddenly something that sounded “sad” sounds “happy,” if only for that final chord.  That’s what I want you to think about this morning—a sad song becoming happy.

            I think we have done the Lord a grave disservice by promising our new converts a happy and peaceful life.  We are preaching a “health and wealth gospel” as strongly as any televangelist when we do so.  What about the “cross” Jesus says we must take up?  What about his promise that men would “hate you?”  What about Paul telling Timothy, “Yes and all that would live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution” 2 Tim 3:12? Jesus said to count the cost before committing to him.  How can people do that when we tell them that all their problems will be solved as long as they get wet and sit on a pew?

            When I try to make Christianity a panacea for life’s ills, I am putting too much emphasis on the sad music of my life and not enough on the ending “Piccardy third.”  God gives us the promise of an eternal and joyful reward—at the end, not necessarily in the middle. 

            How did Moses give up the wealth and power that would have been at his disposal?  By faith Moses, when he was grown up, refused to be called the son of Pharaoh's daughter, choosing rather to be mistreated with the people of God than to enjoy the fleeting pleasures of sin. He considered the reproach of Christ greater wealth than the treasures of Egypt, for he was looking to the reward. Heb 11:24,26.  Do you see that?  He considered those things “fleeting.”  He understood that relative to eternity, his 120 years of life was nothing.  Most of us will be lucky to live 2/3 that amount of time and we still can’t give up what Moses would have considered “the lesser wealth.”

            Life may be in a minor key for us.  In fact, Jesus promises that it will be in many cases, and often because of him.  But he leaves us with the promise that one day the joy will be unfathomable and unlimited.  Yet only those who suffer through the minor key “for his name’s sake” will enjoy a Piccardy third at the end—a time when the happy music takes over, a new song we will sing forever.
 
"Blessed are you when people hate you and when they exclude you and revile you and spurn your name as evil, on account of the Son of Man! Rejoice in that day, and leap for joy, for behold, your reward is great in heaven; for so their fathers did to the prophets, Luke 6:22,23.
 
Dene Ward

 
Come, we that love the Lord,
and let our joys be known;
join in a song with sweet accord,
join in a song with sweet accord
and thus surround the throne,
and thus surround the throne.
Chorus

We’re marching to Zion,
beautiful, beautiful Zion;
we’re marching upward to Zion,
the beautiful city of God.

Let those refuse to sing
who never knew our God;
but children of the heavenly King,
but children of the heavenly King
may speak their joys abroad,
may speak their joys abroad.

The hill of Zion yields
a thousand sacred sweets
before we reach the heavenly fields,
before we reach the heavenly fields,
or walk the golden streets,
or walk the golden streets.

Then let our songs abound,
and every tear be dry;
we’re marching through Emmanuel’s ground,
we’re marching through Emmanuel’s ground,
to fairer worlds on high,
to fairer worlds on high.

            We sang this song not long ago and I paid more attention to the words than ever before.  As a result I found so many new things in it that I sat there stunned and missed the first few minutes of the lesson that followed.  When I got home I did some research and found scripture references on a couple of websites that I might not have found all by myself.  But before we get to that, let’s build a foundation.

            We have been studying the prophets lately and have hung our interpretive hats on Hebrews 12:22-29.  In a day when the Messianic words of the prophets are construed every which way but the correct one, this passage can be a lifesaver.  Just read through it and you find that all of the following phrases are synonymous:  Mount Zion, the city of the living God, the heavenly Jerusalem, the general assembly and church of the firstborn, [those] whose names are written in heaven, the [unshakable] kingdom.  None of these things have to do with a millennium at the end of time—they are all Messianic in the prophets and occur now.  If we are faithful believers, we are these things.
 
           Now look at Psalm 137:  By the waters of Babylon, there we sat down and wept, when we remembered Zion. On the willows there we hung up our lyres. For there our captors required of us songs, and our tormentors, mirth, saying, “Sing us one of the songs of Zion!” How shall we sing the LORD's song in a foreign land? If I forget you, O Jerusalem, let my right hand forget its skill! Let my tongue stick to the roof of my mouth, if I do not remember you, if I do not set Jerusalem above my highest joy!
 
           This psalm is written of the exiles in Babylon.  Their despair is palpable.  They no longer have a country, much less a city.  Their temple on Mt Zion is in ruins. They have no king, no worship, no way to sacrifice to God or even try to keep the covenant if they were of a mind to—and many were not.  And so they gave up.  They hung up their lyres on the willow branches and sat down and cried.  They “refused to sing.”

            How many times have we done the same thing?  How many times have looked at the rampant sin around us and, instead of continuing to do our best, we not only quit but wallowed in our misery, complaining loud and long about the hopelessness of our situation?  How many times have we almost gleefully whined to one another—in Facebook posts by the score--about the perfidies that surround us and the moral turpitude of our culture?  Our delight is no longer in the law of the Lord but in recounting the iniquities of others. 
  
          But how can we keep singing?   The psalmist said if those exiles could not remember their own city of God, their own Mt Zion, their own Jerusalem, then let their fingers lose their musical skill and their tongues stick to the roofs of their mouths.  Is that what we want to happen to us?  Even your memories are enough to sing about, he told them.

            We still have plenty to sing about too, if “we love the Lord.”  We are “children of the heavenly king.”  We “know God.”  We have been given “a thousand sacred sweets” before we even get to Heaven—prayer, spiritual blessings, physical blessings, a spiritual family, and salvation, a beautiful world to live in and joyful occasions in our lives.  “Every tear” should be dry because we are “marching through Emmanuel’s ground”—“God with us”--a Lord who came and died for us, who acts as our high priest, who intercedes, who takes every care of ours on his shoulders.  And we want to sit by the waters of Babylon and cry?

            Shame on me if I do not “set [the heavenly] Jerusalem above my highest joy.”  Shame on me if I cannot sing this song with the unmitigated joy it deserves.
 
How lovely is your dwelling place, O LORD of hosts! My soul longs, yes, faints for the courts of the LORD; my heart and flesh sing for joy to the living God. Ps 84:1-2
 
Dene Ward

The first thing we had to do in my freshman music theory class was to memorize the types of melodic curves and find examples of each.  Talk about 101—if you used the note heads in the music as a connect-the-dot drawing, you had the shape right there in front of you.  You want a “falling line?”  The first line of the Habanera from Carmen is a perfect example.  You want a “bowl?”  Sing “Joy to the World.”  How about a “rising wave?”  Chopin’s Nocturne in E flat fills the bill.  All the other curves are just as easy to identify.  Even if you cannot read the music, you can do it.

            I have been thinking about melodic line a lot lately.  I think it has something do with some of those modern hymns we sing.  You know the ones.  You rumble down in the bottom of your range where you have absolutely no power at all for the whole verse, then immediately jump to the top of your range for the chorus, where the only way you can sing it (if, like me, you are getting long in the tooth and your range is the only part of your body that is shrinking) is to screech.  I have developed my own term for those songs—it’s a “grovel then soar” melodic curve.

            As a general rule, I am not crazy about those songs because they are so difficult to sing safely, but in a never ending search for ways to get the most out of them, I have decided that at least they remind me of my life before and after Christ.  You wallow around in the pit of sin until you finally reach the point that you know you need help.  So you fall prostrate before a Lord who offers you mercy and yes, you grovel before him because you have finally lost all that pride.  Then, because of his grace and your gratitude, you soar.  You soar over the sins that used to mire you down, you soar over the god of self that kept you pinned to this physical life, and eventually you soar with your Savior to a better place forever.  No more wallowing, no more groveling, no more weights to tie you down; you are free to skyrocket as high as you let your Lord take you.

            In music, this works best when the distinction is greatest.  The lower the “groveling” notes, the more the “soaring” notes affect the listener.  I am afraid it works best that way in your heart as well.  If you don’t realize how low your sins have sunk you and how much you need the Lord, you will never soar as high as you should.  That Pharisee who stood in the synagogue thanking God for how righteous he was never really understood how much he needed mercy.  So, Jesus sadly says, he went home unforgiven.  We, also, are prone to think we deserve salvation, especially when we have been Christians for awhile, especially when we have “grown up in the church.”  It shows when we question God for the pain in our lives, when we fail to preach to any but those we think “deserve” our attention, and when we refuse to forgive others for the wrongs they have done us.

            So use those difficult songs as I do.  The next time you sing them, remember:  You aren’t forgiven until you repent.  You cannot soar until you grovel.  And you won’t do that until you recognize your own need for mercy. 
 
But God, being rich in mercy, because of the great love with which he loved us, even when we were dead in our trespasses, made us alive together with Christ--by grace you have been saved--and raised us up with him and seated us with him in the heavenly places in Christ Jesus, so that in the coming ages he might show the immeasurable riches of his grace in kindness toward us in Christ Jesus, Eph 2:4-7.      

 Dene Ward

Another in a continuing series.  See the right sidebar under "music" for other articles.

It was not my favorite song as a child.  I imagine that had a lot to do with how slowly we sang it.  At that pace nothing was sweet.  I just wanted to get it over with.  But as you mature in Christ I would hope that the title alone would thrill you.  Being able to talk to God whenever we need to or simply want to is a blessing beyond compare.  “Sweet” hardly seems to do it justice.

            The poet, William Walford, was blind.  He sat most of the day whittling—usually small commonplace tools like shoehorns—but as he sat, his mind composed both poems and sermons.  He could quote copious amounts of scripture, a necessity due to his blindness.  Being that familiar with the Bible meant his poems were full of references to scriptures that some of us might have difficulty recalling.  Let that be one lesson for us today:  do not discard a song because you do not know what it means.  Instead, learn what it means by studying the Word of God more. 

            The first three verses contain allusions or near quotes of a dozen different passages, not counting the ones that are repeated many, many times in the Bible.  Then there is the fourth verse.  Some of the modern hymn collections, if they choose to use this old-fashioned, musically straightforward (which they consider “boring”) hymn at all, leave out the fourth verse.  Why?  I am afraid my cynical mind says that due to the woefully shallow “praise songs” we are growing accustomed to, they can no longer think deeply enough to comprehend it.  Then there is that small reference to a passage in the Pentateuch they probably never even read before.  See what you think.

Sweet hour of prayer! Sweet hour of prayer!
May I thy consolation share,
Till, from Mount Pisgah’s lofty height,
I view my home and take my flight:
This robe of flesh I’ll drop and rise
To seize the everlasting prize;
And shout, while passing through the air,
“Farewell, farewell, sweet hour of prayer!”

Please tell me you do know what and where Mt Pisgah is and why I should be able to see my home from there. 

            And Moses went up from the plains of Moab unto the mountain of Nebo, to the top of Pisgah, that is over against Jericho. And the LORD shewed him all the land of Gilead, unto Dan, Deut 34:1. 

            Just before his death, God allowed Moses to view the Promised Land from the top of Mount Pisgah.  He could not go into the land because of his earlier disobedience, but God took pity on his old soldier and let him take a peek.

            And us?  At our deaths we stand symbolically on Mt Pisgah, viewing the place Abraham and the faithful of the Old Testament looked at “from afar off.”  But we do get to go into the Promised Land, the spiritual fulfillment of that piece of covenant ground from millennia ago.  We will drop “this robe of flesh” for a “spiritual body,” and head for the land “whose builder and maker is God.”  We will “pass through through the air” to “meet the Lord,” and surely it will be with a shout of joy.

            And when we arrive we will no longer need this “Sweet Hour of Prayer.”  We will no longer have “distress and grief.”  We will no longer be “tempted by the snares of the Devil.”  Our spirits will no longer “burn for his return.”  We will no longer have cares to “cast on him.”  We will be where our God is.  We will see his face and be able to talk to Him any time we want. 

           “Farewell, farewell, sweet hour of prayer.”
 
Be careful for nothing; but in everything by prayer and supplication with thanksgiving let your requests be made known unto God. And the peace of God, which passes all understanding, shall keep your hearts and minds through Christ Jesus. Phil 4:6-7
 
Dene Ward

The majority of my piano students stayed with me through their senior year of high school.  Since I expected few if any to become performers (only one actually makes his living that way these days), I rewarded each with a senior recital, their only chance to feel the adrenaline rush of performance and the exhilaration of applause.  Formal attire, printed programs, a reception, and every performance experience including introductions, intermissions, curtain calls, and enough audience plants to ensure the need for an encore.

            From my own experiences I gave them helpful advice on things I knew they would never think of otherwise.  No hand or arm jewelry, no long, floppy sleeves, no long dangling earrings—you’d be amazed how much motion you can get in those things.

            Carry a small absorbent cloth when you go out, something you can wrap your hand around easily, and keep it on the piano bench next to you, on the side away from the audience.  Nervous hands can sweat more than you ever dreamed possible.

            Practice bowing.  A perfect performance can be marred by a beautiful young woman who looks like one of the plastic birds perched on the edge of a cup bouncing its beak up and down into the water, or by the loopy, big-eyed look of a young man trying to watch the audience while he bows--always make your eyes find the floor space between your feet to avoid that.

            Practice with your formal clothes on, including jewelry and shoes.  Pedaling can turn into a nightmare with the wrong shoes, and jackets that are tight across the back can impede motion and ruin a beautiful piece of music.

            The last two weeks, always practice your pieces in the order you plan to play them.  It can be disorienting when you are already nervous and an ear that is used to one order suddenly hears it all in another.  During the last week, close every practice session with one complete run-through, never stopping for an error, but training yourself to cover the best you can.

            Finally, have at least two dress rehearsals, including walking on and off (in the same direction you will that night), bowing, taking curtain calls, and announcing an encore.  Professional performers don’t need these things, of course, but once-in-a-life-timers do.  The silliest things can trip you up if you are not prepared for them.

           Wouldn’t it be great if we had dress rehearsals for life?  We could try out different ways of handling problems and choose the best.  We could correct our mistakes or find clever ways to hide them.  We could plan ahead for every possible eventuality and even choose the order of events.

            No, we don’t get a run-through.  We seldom get second chances.  Most of the time our mistakes are open for all to see, and we must live with the consequences.

            But there is a life manual and there are good people to advise you.  It is not always necessary to learn things on your own—which usually means “the hard way.”  In fact, the Bible says only a “fool” insists on learning in that manner.  Smart people listen to those who have been there before.  They can tell you that a clunky shoe can slip off a pedal with a noisy thunk in the middle of your soft, cantabile passage.  They can warn you about heavy cuff links clicking on the keys.  They can remind you to always make sure the hem of your formal gown is NOT under your heels before you stand up! 

           Actually, they will be telling you about other things—things which can make your life a whole lot easier if you will just listen.  It’s the closest thing to a dress rehearsal you will ever get.  Make good use of it.
 
The way of a fool is right in his own eyes, but a wise man listens to advice. Where there is no counsel, purposes are disappointed; but in the multitude of counselors they are established. Listen to advice and accept instruction, that you may gain wisdom in the future, Prov 12:15; 15:22; 19:20.
 
Dene Ward
 

One year the state music teachers’ convention was held in my district.  Somehow I found myself in charge of the name tags and the registration desk.  Since I did not know most of the people, my standard greeting was, “Welcome to Gainesville.  What’s your name please?”  Then I riffled through a couple of shoeboxes containing the laminated name tags that we hung around our necks.

            The second afternoon a man in his thirties came bustling up to the desk.  His expensive suit was sharp, and probably custom tailored since it fit his rounded figure without a pull or pucker anywhere.  He was well-groomed and carried a leather portfolio that also bespoke of money.  Not your typical music teacher, I thought.  Most of us are clean and tidy, but few of us dress like lawyers.

            He stood before me, but couldn’t be bothered to actually look at me.  Instead, he looked around at the passersby and intoned, “And do you have a name tag for me?” in a deep, full-of-himself voice.

            “I don’t know,” I answered.  “Who are you?”

            Then he looked at me—with an incredulous, wide-eyed stare.  At last lowly little music-teacher-me had gotten his attention.  When he told me his name, I managed to keep a straight face.  He was one of the university professors who also performs on the concert stage.  He had won some international competitions.  In fact, I recognized his name, I had just never seen him in person. 

            That afternoon when the rush had calmed at the table, I told a couple of my friends about my faux pas.  They both laughed.  “Good,” they said.  “He needed that.”

            Do we need something similar?  The Proverb writer says it like this:  Do you see a man who is wise in his own eyes? There is more hope for a fool than for him, 26:12. 

            Why is it we think so well of ourselves?   Paul reminded the Corinthians, For who sees anything different in you? What do you have that you did not receive? If then you received it, why do you boast as if you did not receive it? 1 Cor 4:7.  So you have a gift for speaking, for singing, for teaching, for welcoming visitors—any special ability.  You wouldn’t have that gift if God hadn’t given it to you, so what are you bragging about?

            Why is it we feel so compelled to remind people of our successes?  Why must we pat ourselves on the back whenever the opportunity arises, recounting all our various experiences as examples of wisdom for all to learn from?  We couldn’t have done any of it by ourselves.

            Sometimes those things are used as excuses.  Maybe I didn’t do well this time, but in the past you should have seen all I did for the Lord.  Or, I know I shouldn’t be bragging, but no one else seems to notice what I’ve done. 

            God notices.  Who else should we care about?  Let the one who boasts, boast in the Lord. For it is not the one who commends himself who is approved, but the one whom the Lord commends, 2 Cor 10:17,18.

            I think this happens most with age.  As older men and women teaching the younger, we must be careful how we come across.  It isn’t an episode of “This Is Your Life,” where we can boast about all the wonderful things we have done in the past, careful to leave out the bad examples, of course.  It’s about edifying and encouraging others.  That attitude must always be with us.

            Don’t worry if people don’t know who you are and what you have done.  God holds the name tags, and he won’t have to ask who you are.
 
For by the grace given to me I say to everyone among you not to think of himself more highly than he ought to think, but to think with sober judgment, each according to the measure of faith that God has assigned. Rom 12:3
 
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

I learned a long time ago that any position of authority comes with more responsibility than the right to wear the title is worth.  As head of the string section of our district competition, having to deal with teachers who would stalk the judges if their students did not get the ratings they thought they deserved (anything less than a superior regardless how they performed), I had to learn how to confront those same teachers while cajoling judges to return even after the word had spread about the unprofessional behavior in our district.  I had to deal with parents who wanted their child to be the exception to every rule.  I had to decide when an exception was truly warranted and when it wasn’t, then live with the flak my decision caused. 

            When I was appointed head of the vocal department for the state competition, things just got worse.  Everyone knew how to do my job better than I did, even if they had never had a voice lesson in their lives.  They might think that diphthongs were women’s underwear, but they could judge a voice better than a man with a doctorate in vocal performance and 20 years experience on the stage.

            The more authority you have, the more responsibility you have, and the more troubles are laid at your door.  Anyone who goes around looking for it had better love the cause since s/he will get far more grief than s/he ever bargained for.  And that is only right because headship is not about privilege; it is about doing what is best for those in your charge, even when it isn’t what you really want to do.

            Miriam forgot that.  Miriam found herself leader of those Israelite women who fled Egypt along with their men.  After the victory at the Red Sea, she led them in song, praising God for their victory.  God also made her one of His prophetesses.  Micah makes it plain that God considered her a leader:  For I brought you up out of the land of Egypt, and redeemed you out of the house of bondage; and I sent before you Moses, and Aaron, and Miriam, (6:4).

            But Miriam was not happy with her calling.  In Numbers 12:2 she and Aaron came before God and dared to say, Has Jehovah indeed spoken only with Moses?  Has he not also spoken with us?  Notice in verse 1 that Miriam’s name is listed first, which usually means something in the scriptures.  In addition I found at least one commentary that says the literal Hebrew in that verse is, “And she spake, Miriam and Aaron, against Moses,” making it clear that Miriam was the ringleader of this little rebellion.

            Miriam was not satisfied with the place of honor God gave her—it wasn’t enough.  She could tell that God held Moses in higher esteem, even than her brother Aaron, and she was not happy about it.  Yet she had proved that she was not capable of handling the responsibilities of the job.

            In Exodus 32, when Moses left the people in her and Aaron’s charge, she allowed them to make the golden calf.  How did she allow it?  By saying nothing.  As a leader she should have spoken out against their sin.  God expects that of any leader, and she failed miserably.  No, Aaron did not do any better, but then was he the one who complained in Numbers 12?  No, he just went right along with it like he did in Exodus 32.  Nothing about Aaron changed from one time to the next.  Miriam’s complete failure to even try to stem the tide of idolatry at the foot of Mt Sinai showed her unfit to be a leader of God’s people.  For her to then come along and demand that position in Numbers 12 showed that she wasn’t even perceptive enough to see her own failures, much less lead a group that failed over and over in the years that followed.  It also shows that she sought the honor rather than the responsibility of leadership.

            So what does God expect of us? 

            How does a man react to his selection as an elder?  Does he follow the path of least resistance when it is time to make a decision?  Does he avoid making a decision at all, hoping to dodge unpleasant consequences?  Or does he make the tough decisions that are best for the good of those he shepherds, even knowing it will cause him problems with those same people?

            How does a man handle the headship of his family?  Is it all about getting to do things his way, and only his way?  Is it about telling everyone else what they should be doing, while sitting around being waited on?  Or does he do what is best for each member of his family, even if it makes more work and worry for him?  Does he understand that God holds him accountable for the success or failure of his family?

            How about an older woman in the church, in a family, in a community?  Does she stand for the truth in whatever capacity she finds herself?  Is she strong enough to do right even when it isn’t popular, or when it causes her personal pain?  Can she remove herself and her feelings far enough from a situation to see the problems and help solve them, even if it means others will disagree?  Can she stand for the truth even when it breaks her heart?

            Too many people desire the perks and not the works.  Jesus came looking for servants at every level, not just the bottom rung of the ladder, and those servants are judged by the deeds they do, not the glory they receive from men.  Be careful what you wish for.
 
Likewise you younger, be subject to the elder.  Yea all of you gird yourselves with humility that you may serve one another.  For God resists the proud, but gives grace to the humble 1 Pet 5:5.
 
Dene Ward

Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in me,
All His wonderful passion and purity.
May His Spirit divine all my being refine
Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in me.

When your burden is heavy and hard to bear
When your neighbors refuse all your load to share
When you're feeling so blue, Don't know just what to do
Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in you.

When somebody has been so unkind to you,
Some word spoken that pierces you through and through.
Think how He was beguiled, spat upon and reviled,
Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in you

From the dawn of the morning till close of day,
In example in deeds and in all you say,
Lay your gifts at His feet, ever strive to keep sweet
Let the beauty of Jesus be seen in you.
 
            This one will probably go in a direction you never expected.  Look at the third verse.  Read it through once, twice, or as many times as it takes to find the problem. 

            If you haven’t found it after half a dozen readings, don’t be too hard on yourself.  After all, I sang this song for five decades before I saw it.  Will it help to tell you the problem is in the third line of that verse?

            Hardly anyone I have spoken to sees it.  But tell me this, when was Jesus ever “beguiled?”  I have checked over half a dozen dictionaries, and that word always has something to do with being “deceived.”  Look at 2 Cor 11:3:  But I fear, lest by any means, as the serpent beguiled Eve in his craftiness...

            I looked up every usage of that Greek word in the New Testament (5) and they all mean the same thing, sometimes even translated “deceived.”  In fact, Rom 7:11, says sin beguiled us.  Now tell me that has anything at all to do with our Lord.

            What I really do not understand is the extent people will go to in order to make this lyric scriptural.  One person frantically searched more and more dictionaries until he found some “forty-fifth” definition that might possibly make the word mean something besides deception.  But tell me, is it a good word choice if I have to stand on my head and do cartwheels in order to find anything that will make the concept correct, when the easy, normal use of the word is anything but?  Why would anyone be so desperate to prove a hymn written by a man did not have an error in it?  (No, he was not related to the man.) 

            I find I cannot sing that line in the song any longer.  The rest is perfectly fine and full of wonderful thoughts and I sing them “with the spirit and the understanding.” 

            But all this trouble over one word makes me wonder what else we try to hang onto that might be a whole lot more important.  We have things to say about friends and neighbors who cannot seem to let go of a doctrine they have believed all their lives, even when we show them a clear passage on the subject.  Maybe it’s time to ask ourselves if we would really be any better.
 
But I am afraid that as the serpent beguiled Eve by his cunning, your thoughts will be led astray from a sincere and pure devotion to Christ. 2Cor 11:3
 
Dene Ward