Holy Karaoke!

       I had the most fun the other night.  I laughed until the tears ran down my cheeks and my abs (such as they are) got a real workout.  I went to a concert; well it was really a sing-a-long.   We sang songs from old movies and musicals.  I suppose you could compare it to live-action Karaoke as there was a group of singers and players leading us in the songs and the audience was definitely encouraged to sing along.
       I came in late and so I ended up sitting in front and found myself sitting next to someone who was having just as much fun as I was singing along to the songs and hamming it up a bit.  We surprised ourselves by remembering so many words.
       I was reminded of my mother and one of the things she used to do that embarrassed me so much as a teenager.  I mentioned to my seatmate that my mom always seemed to have a song for everything; give her a phrase or a situation or name something and Mom could have a song that fit.  She said her mom was similar, and now look at us, instead of being embarrassed, we are being just like our mothers and enjoying it.  (It happens more often than we like to admit!)
       It's fun to sing together - even if you can't carry a tune.  While at seminary, we belonged to a local mission congregation whose pastor loved to sing hymns, and he sang with lots of energy and volume even though the tune might be totally unrecognizable.  And yet, his joy and enthusiasm also came through loud and clear and the congregation also sang with passion.
       Singing is fun and a lot of people enjoy singing together even if we don't get many chances to do it.  But put singing together and church in the same subject line, and controversy seems sure to follow.  Much of the cussin' and discussion about worship and liturgy ends up being about what music to sing and how to sing it.
       Not only do most people seem to have an opinion about what they like and think is appropriate, but our song has become loaded down with lots of extra baggage.  Do we sing "old favorites" or contemporary?   On which generation do we focus our attention?  At the base of these kinds of questions may be the real issue, which is bringing more people to worship.
       Now scads and scads of stuff has been written on the subject but I'm not going to get into that.  As I sang my heart out the other night, what I experienced is something else.
       When people get together and are led with joy and passion, people like singing together.  It's not the style of the music or the ability of each person singing.  Certainly the other night there were those who just sat and enjoyed listening to the whole experience.  Some people knew more words than others.  But there is something about being in a group and singing together that is uplifting and energizing.  Look at flash mob choirs, karaoke bars, and the popularity of shows like Glee; a lot of people like to sing.
       The point isn't which songs we sing, or the style of the music, or how new or old it is.  The point is singing together; the joy and passion are catching.  I have a strong feeling that the secret to making our music attractive to others is not necessarily which music we pick but whether or not we love and enjoy that music and want to share it.  The key is doing this in community as a community.
       Our communal song will be shaped by who we are, our shared experiences, and our individual lives and gifts as well.  If we are not good at singing together, we may need to learn more music and spend time learning how to sing together.  Sometimes, our singing together may sound like a choir with balanced tones and harmonies and other times we may just make some joyful noise together.  The point isn't which song we sing or how well we sing, it is that we come together in faith and lift each other up by joining in song.  Certainly there is power in music, and the music of faith is the most powerful of all.  Read Ephesians 5:15-20.

Jesus Wins Wood

       The city sign at the intersection of both highways reads, "It could be worse.  It could be winter."    
       It was 92 yesterday according to the bank sign, it could be near 100 today, and we are still very dry although we did get a spit of rain Sunday evening.  Up here the winters can also be severe with 20 to 30 below zero temperatures fairly normal.  In this context, the sign makes sense.  It could be worse (until you look at the fields).
       The sign reflects a very human tendency to evaluate things by how they are in relation to other things.  This can be uplifting when you see someone else's circumstance and realize things aren't as bad as you thought.  But it can also be very negative when we look at what we have and find it lacking simply because we see someone else as having better or more.  At that point, it can bring out the worst in egotism, envy, and selfishness.
       I've been watching the Olympics when I can and this attitude has been very obvious in the reporting when a favored American athlete only gets a silver or a bronze instead of the gold medal. They didn't win.  They didn't get first.  It's a tragedy.  They are only second or third or fourth out of all the athletes in the world that competed to be there at that event.
        And yet this is set within the Olympics with a history and philosophy where it is an honor just to compete for your country and where the Olympic spirit is defined by someone who pushed through just to complete the event.  I was reminded of this yesterday when I caught some of the solo sculling (rowing) competition.
       They were showing a race heat where an African athlete had taken up the sport just three months ago in order to compete for his country.  Even though he was a full minute behind the other slowest competitor in the heat and all the rest of the contestants were off the course, he was still pulling as hard as he could to finish the race as best he could.  And in true Olympic spirit, the same crowd that had been fiercely urging on the winners was cheering and screaming in support for him to finish the race.
       Every Olympics, there are the stories of athletes who are "terrible" at their sport - in no way able to compete for world-class times and scores and yet they come, proudly marching in to represent their country.  I remember the runner who fell near the end, and in spite of being injured, struggled to limp across the line and finish the race.  And of course there was the Jamaican bobsled team whose story was told in the movie "Cool Runnings".
       Does it really matter if someone has it better or worse than we do?  Is that the scale we are to use or does faith change things?
       When I was a teenager, I remember a televised minute devotion that would come on everyday.  My mom liked it and so she tried to watch it all the time.  Each time, he ended the thought for the day, "This is the day that the Lord has made; let us rejoice and be glad in it." (Psalm 118:24)  I was totally into the trauma-drama of being a teenager and how awful my life was and what I couldn't do and couldn't have.  I could not understand how and why I was supposed to rejoice when things could be "so bad".
       I have to admit, there have been many times when things really have been bad and I had neither the heart nor the strength to rejoice.  So how do we grapple with the intent of this verse during those hard times?  Does God really expect us to be thankful in the middle of pain or illness or grief?
       The key to living with this verse is in its' context.  Verse 22 talks of the "stone that the builders rejected" which Christians take to speak of Jesus.  The last verse of the psalm confesses faith, giving thanks to God whose love endures forever.
        If we look at life from the context of whether we win the gold, these verses don't make sense.  But instead, we are invited to life and love through Jesus who not only didn't get the gold, he took the cross for our sake.  We rejoice not because we have it so good right now or in comparison to the person next to us but we rejoice because God's love for us endures through it all.  We will falter, we will fall, but God's love is steadfast.  Just to be here, to be able to stand in God's love and be able to share that love with others is everything.  Read Psalm 118:21-29.