It may be a hymn text or it could be something you would hear coming out of your MP3 player. The form really doesn’t matter. What matters is that our theological worldview is not often encapsulated by a rational argument at the times that matter most. It’s more often in a song, a scripture verse, a favorite quote, or a gesture that goes beyond words. Our understanding of redemption, the clearing away of our tears, lies in our hearts, not in our heads. At times of great sadness and pain, we don’t turn to the Book of Order or recite the Apostles’ Creed. Those things are important, sure, but they aren’t our gut level theologies.

Our gut level theologies are the ones that perhaps stand a better chance of getting us through the pain of losing a loved one or may get us moving when we’ve had enough of the bad news of the day. It is in the recognition of the depth of our own sinfulness that grace becomes amazing. It is in the well-timed words of a friend that the balm of Gilead heals us. But our guts can also deceive us. Our guts can tell us that the wounds will never heal. Our guts can lead us to think that there’s no physician that will solve our pain. We can spiral downward into a funeral dirge or a “somebody done somebody wrong song” that lops off any chance we might have had for hope to come into the picture.

This means that the songs we sing are formative. That’s why we sing hymns, psalms, and spiritual songs together as a congregation. It’s not because we sound any better than the choir. The choir could sing circles around us I’m sure. But it is because we need to do more than just recite our beliefs or hear someone else say something about God’s love week after week. We need to have the sounds of our faith ringing in our ears in ways that get lodged in us. The songs that could catch a thousand tears are ones that become more than just the sum of their parts. The lyrics become our words of hope, the melodies our own heart’s music.

I remember a goofy song I learned in children’s choir when I was growing up. It was my absolute favorite, and I tried to get the director to sing it as often as she could stand it. The words of the 1st verse were, “I have a song that Jesus gave me. It was sent from heaven above. There never was a sweeter melody. It’s a melody of Love.” Then the chorus was, “In my heart there rings a melody, there rings a melody, of heaven’s harmony. In my heart there rings a melody, there rings a melody of love.”

Now, that’s not necessarily the song I think of when I call to mind music that has the power to soothe my aching being; nevertheless, it makes a good point. Is heaven’s song in us? If it is, what does it teach us at that gut level, no, at that HEART level? Does it wipe away every tear? Does it redeem us and set us on the path to wholeness?

Not every song can do that, and certainly one song won’t do it for every person. Music is subjective. That’s why I try to be as flexible as possible when a couple is choosing music for a wedding or a family is selecting hymns for a funeral. I remember that for the first wedding I did, the couple wanted to sing “The Old Rugged Cross.” It seemed to me a very odd selection. However, when I was putting together the service and realized that both the bride and the groom had been divorced more than once, it was obvious that they needed to cling to something more to heal their brokenness before they could put a relationship together. Sometimes the order of God’s worship works out way beyond my control.

Music can also be a motivator to rise to justice. This church has a deep history in the Civil Rights movement, so I’m sure that you are aware that the political marches of that day were always accompanied with song. When you pray for justice to roll down like waters, it doesn’t hurt to have a thousand voices rolling through a town to bring a message that God will overcome.

The examples are endless. The right words sung at a funeral can go a long way to cover up even the worst preaching. A mission trip is guided by singing together, “Here I am Lord.” A teenager puts on her headset and realizes that she’ll live through this break-up to love another day.

Reggae musician Bob Marley sings of “Redemption songs” as our songs of freedom. I think they are. But our redemption songs have to be theologically big enough to carry that message. Not just any words will do. As Paul writes to Timothy, his protégé in ministry, he tells him that the “saying is sure and worthy of full acceptance that Christ Jesus died to save sinners.” This is a familiar part of our liturgy being that it’s frequently uses as a call to confession, but if you read further, Paul also tells his young friend, that the sinner Paul knows the most about personally is himself. It’s not just that Paul believes that Christ saves sinners; he knows it to be true through his own sense of being called even though he was a blasphemer, a persecutor, and a man of violence. I’m sure that his words were shocking to the preacher in training, but they carried real weight behind them.

This is the kind of redemption that I’m talking about. What has the power in your mind to convince you that your thousand tears will be dried by God? What melody sings in your heart to let you know that salvation belongs to you just as it belonged to a man like Paul? The hymn, “Amazing Grace” is one of the most beloved hymns ever for a good reason. It lets us know that sinners like us find grace in God’s love.

Think again of the words of your song or perhaps of a scripture verse you keep tucked away in mind for times you need refreshing in your faith. Is it big enough? Does it carry the message that what was dead in the world has become alive in Jesus Christ?

Let’s share a few examples….

What inspires your faith?

A prophet’s mourning is special in that it does not end with the lament. The tears are there to be sure, but the song follows. The new life comes out of the holy stump. The stories of scripture remind us that God will always resolve the discordant note. Have faith. Sing songs of your faith. Know that the repeated verse of the psalms is true, “God’s steadfast love endures forever.”

Amen.