The Sounds of Music

The Sounds of Music

During worship, do you ever sense a stronger presence of God? As if you are being lifted up to Him, feeling ushered into His presence? I'm talking about a sense of Him that pulls you up short, coming to an awareness that the Emmanuel is truly with you.

When I hear the stirrings of Johnathon's voice (an autistic five year old) on the back row of church and the tune from his heart that he lives, sings and worships with, I believe I am listening into God's Kingdom.

I'm reminded of Jesus pleading for us to care for the least of these.

My natural reaction to those who are needy or broken, is discomfort. Years ago I walked into our church, battling every step, wanting to reach out to my friends whose twenty-three year old daughter had been kidnapped, and also wanting to run in the other direction. But I went to their side, hugged them and cried, without being able to say anything. Paul, in Romans encourages us to weep with those who weep but it is much easier to weep in the privacy of my own home, not 'with' the hurting.

If we had eyes to see the supernatural world, would we see a large number of His people broken and crippled? Yes. As Joni Erickson commented, "We are all handicapped; mine is just more visible."

I believe the kingdom of God is a seemingly motley group. There would be prisoners serving sentences, persecuted in Sudan, China, Cuba, etc., those emotionally broken from living in a fallen world, the poor near our borders and those so prideful that they can't see their own crippled nature .

The list goes on. Our kingdom is not as orderly and quiet a group as we experience on Sunday mornings. I believe those Jesus spoke to looked quite a bit different than those in our churches today.

Imagine, a place where God's people sing His praises with their hearts, their incomprehensible words, their swaying bodies, their stuttering whispers and their wheelchairs squeaking. When Hebrews refers to a sweet aroma pouring forth from His people to Him, I believe that includes a concert of praise (along with trees, rocks, land and sea) that is very noisy and chaotic.

So, when I hear Jonathan's soft notes, that sing a tune we don't understand, I am lifted up the the One that takes all of the broken cacophony of our souls, turning them to beauty and, yes, worship.