Music in the church has often served to standardize and reinforce sound doctrine. For that reason John and Charles Wesley, Martin Luther and others set Biblical, doctrinal poetry to music. Their hymns have served as a catechism for the common man, many of whom were illiterate. Charles Wesley’s "And Can it Be?" causes my soul to swell with wonder and amazement. Much of Pentecostal theology is Wesleyan. I think more of our worship ought to be as well.
Biblical spiritual worship rallies people to a common theme. The Spirit always leads to Jesus! There is only one instance in Scripture, at Pentecost, when everyone spoke simultaneously of the wonderful works of God, and then Peter preached Jesus! Thereafter, Spirit-led church leadership established orderly boundaries for public worship. We are to define Jesus with our lives, to pray to the One who intercedes for us, and make His Name known by teaching and preaching with Spirit anointing.
I believe worship is to be experienced in the "carryover" to personal and family worship. Songs and teaching of the assembled church are to be reinforced in community, from house to house. The Sunday experience was never intended to be a "stand alone" event relegated to a time and place. Worship and service cannot be properly understood as a "one-size-fits-all" once a week injection, but from "house-to-house," and "person-to-person" function of people living the Faith. Jesus came to establish a community that had been released from the curse of sin and freed to honor the Father.
The church must never outgrow its need to teach and learn as she worships. The repetition of melody and lyric has a tremendous capacity to anchor the spirit of man in the Holy, connect time with eternity, organize deep truths which are then embed into human spirits by the Holy Spirit.
Consider an event recorded in Acts 3 and 4. Shortly after Pentecost Peter and John approached the temple at the time of prayer. A beggar who had been lame from birth called out for alms. Peter’s response was unexpected and without precedent. He said, "Look at us!" So the man gave them his attention, expecting to get something from them. Then Peter said, Silver or gold I do not have, but what I have I give you. In the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, walk. Taking him by the right hand, he helped him up, and instantly the man’s feet and ankles became strong. He jumped to his feet and began to walk. – Acts 3:3-8
The ensuing uproar resulted in Peter and John being imprisoned and ordered to stop preaching about Jesus. Peter’s response, You killed the author of life, but God raised him from the dead. We are witnesses of this. By faith in the name of Jesus, this man whom you see and know was made strong. It is Jesus’ name and the faith that comes through him that has given this complete healing to him, as you can all see. – Acts 3:15-16
The religious establishment added threats to their prior order to cease and desist preaching Jesus’ resurrection, but the Apostle Peter, filled with the Holy Spirit, said to them: "Rulers and elders of the people! If we are being called to account today for an act of kindness shown to a cripple and are asked how he was healed, then know this, you and all the people of Israel: It is by the name of Jesus Christ of Nazareth, whom you crucified but whom God raised from the dead, that this man stands before you healed. He is the stone you builders rejected, which has become the capstone.’ Salvation is found in no one else, for there is no other name under heaven given to men by which we must be saved. – Acts 4:8-12
Edward Perronet, a friend of John and Charles Wesley published a poem in 1780. The church has sung the song for 235 years, and for 41 years Perronet’s lyrics served as the theme of "Revivaltime," the international radio broadcast of the Assemblies of God.
All hail the pow’r of Jesus’ Name!
Let angels prostrate fall;
Bring forth the royal diadem,
And crown Him Lord of all!
Ye chosen seed of Israel’s race,
Ye ransomed from the fall,
Hail Him Who saves you by His grace,
And crown Him Lord of all!
Let every kindred, every tribe,
On this terrestrial ball,
To Him all majesty ascribe,
And crown Him Lord of all!
Oh, that with yonder sacred throng
We at His feet may fall!
We’ll join the everlasting song,
And crown Him Lord of all!
Pentecostals should not have be reminded that Paul wrote to the Philippians, Therefore God exalted him to the highest place and gave him the name that is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, in heaven and on earth and under the earth, and every tongue confess that Jesus Christ is Lord, to the glory of God the Father.
A song published soon after the Civil War, became a favorite in churches in the North and South. It’s author, an Ohioan, William Clark, was a leading abolitionist and leader in the Temperance Movement. The lyrics are pregnant with truth of the power in Jesus’ Name.
All praise to God who reigns above
In majesty supreme,
Who gave His Son for all to die,
That He might man redeem!
Refrain:
Blessed be the name! Blessed be the name!
Blessed be the name of the Lord!
Blessed be the name! Blessed be the name!
Blessed be the name of the Lord!
His name above all names shall stand,
Exalted more and more,
He's seated at God's own right hand,
Where angel hosts adore. [Refrain]
Redeemer, Savior, friend of all,
Once ruined by the fall,
Thou hast devised salvation's plan,
For thou hast died for all. [Refrain]
His name shall be the Counselor,
The mighty Prince of Peace,
Of all earth’s kingdoms conqueror,
Whose reign shall never cease! [Refrain]
There is enough Gospel in William Clark’s poetry set to music to save the lost, deliver captives, warm and woo those estranged from their God, and to reinforce the faith of all of us who sometimes stumble forward with uncertainties.
A song from the 90's honors the Name and centers our faith.
No other name but the name of Jesus
No other name but the name of the Lord
No other name but the name of Jesus
Is worthy of glory, and worthy of honor
And worthy of power and all praise.
I pray that the contemporary church rediscovers the centrality of the Gospel, the Name of Jesus and all its wonder-working power. May new songs, new melodies, new emphases be placed on Jesus so that my grandchildren experience Him and sing truths when faith is rattled, understanding is impossible, and hope needs new moorings in the Eternal Son!
A book in my library, The Audacity of Preaching, written by Rev. Dr. Gene E. Bartlett, has held my attention for years. The title has caused me to ask, "Where did I get the nerve, the audacity to expect people to rise early on Sunday morning, shower, dress and come to church, just because I was preaching?" Church members come into a room expecting me to be prepared to suggest remedies for doubts driven deep into their souls by the harsh realities of life. Each wants assurance that God is aware of the injustices experienced in the rough and tumble daily navigation through extraordinary demands of life – especially in the city. Others need to be urged to continue in the faith when they have been wearied to the bone by hundreds of averse experiences. Some need assurance that hope and healing are more than slogans or theories.
I am expected to say something! I should bring solace into stresses, and peace into pandemonium, and healing for sicknesses.
The ordination charge to novice preachers usually includes Saint Paul’s words to Timothy, In the presence of God and of Christ Jesus, who will judge the living and the dead, and in view of his appearing and his kingdom, I give you this charge: Preach the Word; be prepared in season and out of season; correct, rebuke and encourage—with great patience and careful instruction. For the time will come when men will not put up with sound doctrine. Instead, to suit their own desires, they will gather around them a great number of teachers to say what their itching ears want to hear. They will turn their ears away from the truth and turn aside to myths. But you, keep your head in all situations. (2 Timothy 4:1-5a) I heard that charge and have taken it seriously for nearly 47 years.
I have read that a few traditions include a balancing charge to the congregation attending an ordination: "I give you this charge, listen to the Word and do it!" However, I never heard that instruction in the 49 ordinations I have attended.
I believe in the power of preaching. If I didn’t, I wouldn’t have followed the vocation assigned to me! But, I sometimes wonder if congregations prepare as much as preachers do. Do people really expect to hear something powerful enough to transform life? In my most recent preaching assignment I began with several questions. The first, "Will you join me in prayerful preparation? Will you pray, ‘Holy Spirit, enable me to hear what you say to the church. My world is noisy, my mind is busy, and my spirit is often dulled by the ordinary activities of life. Holy Spirit, I need you!’" After a brief period of silent prayer we sang the following prayer.
Spirit, now melt and move
All of our hearts with love,
Breathe on us from above
With old time power.
As we continued in prayer, I included the following, "Father, You have communicated Your will, Your wisdom, and Your warnings through faulty men and women throughout all generations. By preaching you have made your salvation known. Speak into all those lives gathered here today." Then, after a season of silent, meditative prayer we prayed the simple lyrics of a song that accompanied numberless calls to an altar,
Speak, my Lord, speak, my Lord,
Speak, and I’ll be quick to answer Thee;
Speak, my Lord, speak, my Lord,
Speak, and I will answer, "Lord, send me."
I have sung those simple words of surrender since childhood. I was signing a blank check, urging Jesus to fill in the blanks of "when" and "where," and at "what cost." Because I listened, and because He spoke, I can look back and see a pattern of how the Spirit has led throughout a lifetime.
When we finally quieted, we prayed as a congregation, "Jesus, help me to learn as the Spirit teaches this morning. As I hear Your voice, help me to say, ‘Yes!’ to everything You ask of me through the Word I am about to hear. If I must wait as Your plans for my life unfold, please develop the fruit of patience in me. Amen."
I am reminded that in my childhood home the whole family made preparations for Sunday worship. Each family member did our Saturday chores which included Mom preparing a dinner that could be warmed up quickly after church. We boys shined our shoes. Clothes were freshly pressed. Dad, my brother and I sat and read the Sunday School lesson on the living room sofa and mastered the memory verse. Everything was ready for Sunday morning and evening in church.
Was our preaching-teaching efforts effective? I don’t know. It is too soon to evaluate. The need for pre-service preparation listening to and learning from the preacher must become a discipline over time. More exposures to these ideas and efforts in developing new habits are needed. Increased effectiveness is reached as active, prepared listeners participate in preparation to listen and obey. The Audacity of Preaching needs to be complimented with Daring to Listen and Obey.
For a congregation to experience the fullness of the Spirit’s work in public assembly, the people must prepare to listen just as the pastor prepares to preach. When they do, unsaved, dispirited, doubt-filled, and disease-fighting people sharing a room will sense the Spirit’s presence and work. The preparation must include more than singing and worship, as important as those disciplines are. Our lives are too fast-paced, too noisy, with too many demands for even an extended time of singing and worship to develop the kind of sensitivity and receptivity needed for the Spirit to break through into listeners’ spirits.
In short, preaching and listening are best experienced as an experience in teamwork.
Memories are slippery, formless, and have a far greater capacity to adapt to the need for which they are summoned than the person employing them. My friends are aging at the rate as I am, a day at a time. Some pessimistically use memory to reinforce the "good old days," lamenting change, ruing world conditions, and emptily wishing calendars would roll back and we would all get a "Do over!" Others deliberately employ memories to bolster and reinforce optimism. The past is used as a lexicon of experiences from which events and lessons of another time can be applied while continuously moving forward. Slippery memories accommodate both the pessimist and the optimist, bending to the will of the user.
My memories of Holy Week are considered quaint and irrelevant by many. The fluid, often free-form consistency of my recollections allows me to paint a picture with warm, healing hues of positive experience. I admit that I chose to leave out the hatred-filled conversations overheard about politics because I was uncomfortable then and even more so now. For instance, A senator from Wisconsin conducted horrible witch hunts in congressional chambers, inflamed and divided our nation, and ruined the careers of thousands of Americans. Adults I knew and admired were convinced that John F. Kennedy would be a pawn of the Pope and singlehandedly apostatize our beloved country. A few years later President Kennedy and his brother were assassinated along with a champion of civil rights, Dr. Martin Luther King. The "good old days" weren’t that good!
What warm and healing memories do I recall as we approach Holy Week 2015? Many etched into my lexicon of experiences are from the 50's and 60's. I remember Kresge’s, Woolworth’s and Montgomery Ward closing on Good Friday between noon and 3:00PM. Letter carriers interrupted their rounds. Service stations closed. Nearly every church was open. My father came home from work, dressed and took us to Gratiot Avenue Baptist Church – for three long hours! And then, we went to church in the evening, a particularly tedious two hours of slow songs about the cross and suffering followed by communion. Five hours of church in one day was torturous for a preteen boy, but the hues of memory accommodate me and the experience is now a warm recollection that supports faith and evokes feelings needed today.
My first Holy Week as a pastor was in the Spring of 1967. Our tiny congregation met with nearly a dozen other churches, filling the largest church in town. This newly-wed neophyte was in awe of the much more mature, robed and appropriately somber members of the assembled clergy. I cannot remember which of the "Last Seven Words" to which I was assigned to speak. My memory is in wonderful condition, but I don’t want to remember that first attempt.
When I was a boy my mother and an older sister helped my brother and me color hard-boiled eggs on Saturdays before Easter. I can still smell the vinegar! Do others remember using a wax crayon to write family names on the shells before dipping the eggs into the dye? Using a kind of paisley printed coloring seeped into my lexicon of recollections as I wrote this morning. Baskets with cellophane straw were brought from the attic. Each basket would be filled with candy after I was asleep. The eggs were hidden behind furniture, awaiting our search in the morning. Pat and I followed a similar tradition with our kids!
Ah, they were simple times, but deliberately planned occasions for reinforcing the all-important truth of the Gospel. Saint Paul’s terse statement was strongly at the forefront of our Holy Week observances, "Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners." (1 Timothy 1:15) There was little concern for being relevant or making sure that unchurched people understood the music. I learned Isaac Watt’s confession of faith and call to worship as a boy as we approached the communion table.
When I survey the wondrous cross
On which the Prince of glory died,
My richest gain I count but loss,
And pour contempt on all my pride.
Forbid it, Lord, that I should boast,
Save in the death of Christ my God!
All the vain things that charm me most,
I sacrifice them to His blood.
See from His head, His hands, His feet,
Sorrow and love flow mingled down!
Did e’er such love and sorrow meet,
Or thorns compose so rich a crown?
Were the whole realm of nature mine,
That were a present far too small;
Love so amazing, so divine,
Demands my soul, my life, my all.
It is unlikely that Macy’s, McDonald’s or Menard’s Home Improvement stores will roll back the calendar to accommodate my quaint recollections. But, I do hope that courageous pastors will boldly announce the Message that Jesus died for our sins on the cross, was buried in a borrowed tomb, and was resurrected on the third day. The Gospel was secured in Holy Week. I trust that as my grandchildren grow into adults that they will be able to recall memories that include the songs sung at the communion table and the gloriously triumphant songs of Easter Sundays. Let’s sing Robert Lowery’s almost 200 year-old Easter announcement one more time!
Low in the grave he lay, Jesus my Savior,
waiting the coming day, Jesus my Lord!
Refrain:
Up from the grave he arose;
with a mighty triumph o'er his foes;
he arose a victor from the dark domain,
and he lives forever, with his saints to reign.
He arose! He arose! Hallelujah! Christ arose!
Vainly they watch his bed, Jesus my Savior,
vainly they seal the dead, Jesus my Lord!
Death cannot keep its prey, Jesus my Savior;
He tore the bars away, Jesus my Lord!
I am ready! All together now . . .
As we attended and participated in worship yesterday I had one of my "moments," a sort of spiritual flashback to another time another place, long ago. In typical Pentecostal fashion, several members exhorted us to allow God to freely work within each worshiper. Words like "breakthrough" and "deliverance" were employed, words that have been part of my vocabulary for decades.
While worshiping the Holy Spirit lifted the words of one of the very first songs I remember singing in church. I am able to establish the date at 1949 or 1950. Our family was sitting in the balcony of our church near the corner of Nevada and Van Dyke Streets on Detroit’s East Side. It was a Sunday evening and an aunt from Northern Michigan attended and sang with us.
’Tis the grandest theme through the ages rung;
’Tis the grandest theme for a mortal tongue;
’Tis the grandest theme that the world e’er sung,
"Our God is able to deliver thee."
Refrain:
He is able to deliver thee,
He is able to deliver thee;
Though by sin oppressed, go to Him for rest;
"Our God is able to deliver thee."
’Tis the grandest theme in the earth or main;
’Tis the grandest theme for a mortal strain;
’Tis the grandest theme, tell the world again,
"Our God is able to deliver thee." ’
Tis the grandest theme, let the tidings roll,
To the guilty heart, to the sinful soul;
Look to God in faith, He will make thee whole,
"Our God is able to deliver thee.
As the exhortations and appropriate responses continued through the extended season of worship the words I first remember singing 65 years ago rolled through my spirit with refreshing faith-building assurance. Even though I was the preacher, the Holy Spirit knew that I needed a renewed confidence that the Eternal God was present and powerful, not only in church, but throughout the coming week.
I have observed that crisis "deliverance," or authentic momentary "breakthrough" is the beginning of an extended work of the Spirit. While I am comfortable with the freedom of Spirit-led expression woven into the fabric of Pentecostalism, I also convinced that new habits must follow brief in-church encounters if there will be any long-lasting redemptive result. Often the thing from which we must be delivered is deeply entrenched, habitual, often-repeated behavior. People return home and to their marketplaces, venues where real life happens, are the places where "deliverance" is proven and "breakthrough" is exhibited in a changed life.
Our worship experience yesterday served my spirit well. I crave a deliverance from "stale sameness" that is often part of church worship. As we worshiped a thunderous truth that was originally secured within the spirit of a kindergarten-age boy was lifted by the power of the Holy Spirit and made dynamic and assuring. Smooth musical segues, orchestrated worship plans, and relevant sermon series have a place, but will never deliver people from the "stale sameness" of lives beaten into awkward shapes by destructive behavior. The "Deliverer" must appear and interrupt the sameness of tedious and troubled living.
As a boy I had help: parents, teachers, siblings and friends, who shaped healthy habits, those frequent reinforcements leading to stable behavior and health. The church gathered for worship and led by the Spirit initiated "deliverance" and created "breakthrough" moments, the beginnings of new disciplines and dynamic living. My prayer is, "God, please Lord, cause the words of a song, the truth of your Word grip me in a new way! Deliver us from sameness!"
Around 1980 Pat and I spent a memorable day with Pat’s parents touring the Palisades lining the Hudson River, a New York State Park, and the United States Military Academy, commonly known as West Point. One of the highlights of the weather-perfect summer day was a tour of the military museum on the West Point Campus. The museum is considered the most complete exhibit of its kind anywhere in the world.
One of the realities uncovered as one walks through the various stages of man’s hostility toward one another is that the order of magnitude continuously increases. At the beginning of the thorough and carefully documented history of conflict mankind, one learns that at the beginning men fought face-to-face and hand-to-hand. Cain’s fratricide was certainly a primitive one-on-one, personal conflict ending in Abel’s death.
The war museum carefully documents the evolution of weapons of conflict and death from crude bludgeons to the latest sophisticated, computer-guided missiles and contemporary warheads. The section documenting the machinery and strategies of World War Two slowed our progress to a standstill as my father-in-law, Roy W. Kolas, a veteran of the war, reminisced, telling of his experiences that spanned more than four years and travels across Europe all the way to the "The Bulge." My mother-in-law, Martha, along with Pat, and I had no idea. War became a vivid, real-to-life horror that Roy allowed us to experience it vicariously. I will never forget. The guns fired in John Wayne television movies were noisy things, part of a movie plot were inches away and were frightfully large, ominous and menacing. Photos of destruction and death are etched forever in my memory with Roy Kolas’ sound track playing in the background.
Richard Feynman, a Princeton University graduate physicist, was enlisted by the United States to serve on the team that developed the atomic bomb. Feynman was present at the first detonation of the bomb in a western desert. So awful was the explosive force of the detonation that for years Dr. Feynman slipped into his self-described "depression." He, and some fellow scientists, lamented that evil people would acquire the technology and materials needed to reproduce their prototype and obliterate the world. President Truman elected to eradicate Hiroshima and Nagasaki with the bomb. When Feynman saw men building a bridge or tall building, he often wondered aloud, "What’s the use? It will be destroyed."
The order of magnitude has advanced from weapons made from sticks and stones to unimaginable atomic power. The fratricidal evil in Cain’s heart resides in heads of state. Religious zealots have raised the stakes from a suicide dive-bomber attacking a plane directed at a military supply ship at sea to commandeering a passenger plane to use as a weapon to destroy a city skyline and thousands of citizens. Almost simultaneously, men with simple swords primitively lop off heads because of a shared hate boiling within human hearts.
This week I have read and listened to The Revelation, the Bible’s final Word. While reading and listening simultaneously, I remembered the fears of Dr. Feynman and the experiences of Roy Kolas. The horrors of the end are too awful to imagine. I will leave the time line and sequence of events to those with greater understanding. And, I choose to remember one of my father-in-law’s statements, "Those who lived through what Europeans experienced in the war believe they have lived through tribulation." Fellow Christians who are being beheaded today certainly know that their adversary, the devil, is roaring as a lion, seeking to devour (1 Peter 5:8). And, while evil men have sophisticated tools to kill and destroy, the power of the Gospel of Jesus, the Christ, remains greater than the evil in the most vile human heart and all the weapons deployed to destroy.
Our future on earth is uncertain at best. Let us remember that the One who sits on the throne, Jesus, God’s Son, has declared for all to know an eternal truth that will never be compromised.
The seventh angel sounded his trumpet, and there were loud voices in heaven, which said: "The kingdom of the world has become the kingdom of our Lord and of his Christ, and he will reign forever and ever."
And the twenty-four elders, who were seated on their thrones before God, fell on their faces and worshiped God, saying: "We give thanks to you, Lord God Almighty, the One who is and who was, because you have taken your great power and have begun to reign. (Revelation 11:15-17).
Take courage friends. Roy Kolas’ confidence in the eternal omnipotence of Jesus is greater than the evil in men that cause the ravages of war. In contrast, Dr. Feynman lived with fear that the wrong people would use an invention he helped develop to destroy civilization. My father-in-law got it right! The word is "courage" friends!
While making my way through some "fun reading" – reading that is not directly tied to my vocation -- I was challenged by Charles Krauthammer’s about ones need of imagination. In his September 24, 2001 Washington Post column, Krauthammer, the sometime Fox News pundit and syndicated Washington Post writer, noted how unprepared the United States was for the terrorist attacks a year earlier. No one could imagine that people would hate our nation and way of life enough to fly airplanes into office buildings with intention to fly into the White House.
Krauthamer observed that by the time the evil, devastating attacks on the World Trade Center and the Pentagon had been accomplished, word was received by the passengers on a flight over Western Pennsylvania. The passengers had to be stunned, but they needed no imagination. So, a few brave men acted courageously and decisively. An attack on the White House was successfully averted because no imagination was needed.
The scenario painted by a newspaper columnist triggered my memory of a verse tucked away in my spirit when I was still a pre-teen. In 2 Corinthians 2:9-10 Paul gave this description of God’s imagination. We are reminded, "No eye has seen, no ear has heard, no mind has conceived what God has prepared for those who love him but God has revealed it to us by his Spirit." The genius, creativity and imagination of God cannot be placed on the same scale as mankind’s senses, knowledge or ability to reach.
We mortals need to remember that simple powerful truth. As we apply another dose of man-made medicine, formulate strategies limited by finite knowledge, and desperately hope for solutions to life’s imponderables, we need to stop, reflect, and trust. In stopping we interrupt what may have been habitual God-limiting behavior. Stopping allows us to ponder, to newly consider the what no mind has conceived. Hope languishes when we get caught up in the web of habit.
In reflection the wonders of God’s past acts move into the present. This morning I sorted through a sizeable stack of business cards. Among the cards was the name, address and business information of a company that was extremely generous toward what was then known as "Highway Ministries." We were renovating the building now housing growing and thriving Resurrection Life Church. We were weary and had worn down teams of people who came to help from as far away as Michigan. The rebuilding process was long and tedious. And then, the unthinkable, what no eye had seen, no ear had heard, no mind had conceived happened before our weary, befogged eyes! A company specializing in pastas and sauces donated nearly all the interior doors hardware and jambs that we needed. I still am stunned and amazed at the imagination and creativity of God.
Many of you know that Pat has Parkinson’s Disease and those with any knowledge of the illness know how difficult and devastating the symptoms are. On occasion I leave the room where Pat is resting and simply and quietly weep. It happened yesterday. The sun had set, Pat and I enjoyed watching our favorite game shows following the evening news, and then I read the article by Mr. Krauthammer, a religious Jew. The idea about needing a better imagination was planted in my spirit. The Holy Spirit took the more-than-14-year-old Washington Post article and said, God has prepared, and will reveal to you, what you cannot yet imagine." Yes! Amen! I will trust the Word of God.
The last item I posted related my experience in a downtown Orlando, Florida church. I promised a follow-up and thought that it would come on the heals of that post. But, I continued to muse and assess what my brother and I had experienced. That took some time!
I thought that I would write about an old song the worship leader led following Charles Wesley’s "O for a Thousand Tongues to Sing." Though the song is beautiful and powerful, the real story is the effectiveness of the worship leader in bringing the congregation face-to-face with the truth of the grace of God. Wesley’s hymn was followed immediately with Haldor Lillenas’ "Wonderful Grace of Jesus." The artistry and skill of the leader urged the congregation to build on "O for a Thousand Tongues."
Allow me to explain what my brother Dennis and I experienced with about 200 others in a 20 minute worship segment. The leader’s explanation of how Wesley’s song came about and was first experienced prompted a deep reverence for the grace of God in my own life. I was ready for what was to come next, but not everyone was!
While singing the first verse, I was little concerned that my brother’s mellow tenor voice and my raspy "whatever" voice made us stand out like people who had recently eaten too much garlic. The last words of the verse waned.
Wonderful grace of Jesus,
Greater than all my sin;
How shall my tongue describe it,
Where shall its praise begin?
Taking away my burden,
Setting my spirit free;
For the wonderful grace of Jesus reaches me.
Refrain
Wonderful the matchless grace of Jesus,
Deeper than the mighty rolling sea;
Wonderful grace, all sufficient for me, for even me.
Broader than the scope of my transgressions,
Greater far than all my sin and shame,
O magnify the precious Name of Jesus.
Praise His Name!
The leader abruptly stopped the accompanying musicians and explained that the grace of God deserved a fullness and depth of worship. With no trace criticism he mentioned, "Men, sing ‘Wonderful!’ The grace of God is why we are here! The musicians were asked to add volume and deliberate emphasis, and the men were asked to stress ‘Wonderful’ playfully asking them to avoid anything that sounded like Lawrence Welk!.He then asked the men to sing, and about 75 or 80 robust men enthusiastically filled the cavernous space with:
Wonderful grace of Jesus,
Reaching to all the lost,
By it I have been pardoned,Saved to the uttermost,
Chains have been torn asunder,
Giving me liberty;
For the wonderful grace of Jesus reaches me.
The ladies joined in the refrain, the organ soared, the piano embellished, but the Spirit of the Living God lifted souls into sin releasing, devil-defying truth. In a staid older congregation I saw hands being lifted and tears form and flow down cheeks. The staid were moved! No one had to say, "God is in the house," or "Someone give praise!" Everyone who has ever been touched by the Holy Spirit knew they stood in the Presence of the Holy!
The last verse was sung with a still greater intensity! I was near to heaven in that moment. We sang:
Wonderful grace of Jesus,
Reaching the most defiled,
By its transforming power,
Making him God’s dear child,
Purchasing peace and heaven,
For all eternity;
And the wonderful grace of Jesus reaches me.
Dennis and I were among about 200 people, but I was face-to-face with the Eternal God. I stood and sang in amazed wonder that I, the "most defiled" was allowed to sing because of a "transforming power" that made me "God’s dear child!" The song wasn’t the most important thing at that moment. As an instrument of the Spirit, the worship leader brought us face-to-face, heart-to-heart and mind-to-mind with the grace of God. At that moment worship happened! The grace and truth of Jesus were in very close proximity. I believe lives were changed. Mine was!
My friend and editor, Bob Neuman, has already asked that we attend this church during our denomination’s General Council later this year. We probably will!
