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 Recuperating
from surgery, I lay bedfast, half-hearing the radio. Suddenly I
realized that the instrumental number being played was the very
old and beautiful hymn. “Near To The Heart of God,” and that
I was brought into a worshipful attitude as I listened.
The shocking aspect of this, to a “non- instrumentalist”
like me, was the realization that pure instrumental music could
have such power upon my subconscious mind.
Then,
I became aware that I was repeating, to myself, the words
of that fine song. “There is a place of quiet rest, Near to
the heart of God.” It was the words of the song that
conveyed the message — that brought me such peace. I knew them
well, and they flowed without effort at each beat of the
familiar music.
As
I mused on these things the first song was finished, and with
proper transitional chords, the orchestra moved into their
second number. It was equally beautiful, well balanced, and
appropriately played. I thrilled at the artistry of the music
and its execution; but the warmth of my worshipful attitude
chilled, and vanished. The reason was obvious — I did not know
the words of this song — it was sterile, unproductive.
“Speaking
to yourselves —” “Teaching and admonishing one another in
psalms and hymns and spiritual songs” and “sing with the
understanding — “(i.e., so as to edify — understandable).
This is the kind of music by which Christians worship God. Worshipful
music makes melody in the heart — and this “plucking or
twanging” has to do with intelligible giving and receiving of
meaningful
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messages. (Eph. 5:19; Col. 3:16; 1 Cor. 14: 5 -15-f)
The
music continued, but it contributed nothing to God-directed
worship. This is not to say I did not feel and appreciate its
power. It “spoke” (?) to me aesthetically. As the musicians
interpreted each composition (none of which called words
to my mind) I reveled in this rare beauty. I was pleased, my
“spirit” entertained, but God was not glorified. In the
luxury of the experience I relaxed, my whirling thoughts
quitened.
And
then, it was there again. Deep inside me I was praying, “I
Need Thee Every Hour, Most Gracious Lord; No Tender Voice Like
Thine, Can Peace Afford.” No, it wasn’t the mechanical
excellence of the orchestra that had again awakened my thoughts
to God and things spiritual. This music was no more worshipful
than previous numbers in the program. But once again familiar
strains recalled words to my mind. The worship was not
in the melody, but in my heart. The worship was not
introduced by the music, per se, but by words — an
intelligible message — which the melody served to recall. I
carefully considered these things, and I challenge your
consideration.
Even
singing may degenerate into a “musical exercise” —
pleasing men, but far removed from being worshipful.
Authority to “sing” when saints assemble, embraces far more
than man-ward, man-pleasing music making. We must choose words
and melody in keeping with a God-ward, God-serving attitude, to
have worshipful music.
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