Lent: 3/23/09
March 23, 2009
Genesis 49:1-28
1 Corinthians 10:14-11:1
Mark 7:24-37
“How Can I Keep From Singing?”
Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. –Mark 7:36 (NRSV)
Robert Lowry wrote one of my favorite “new” hymns in the 19th century (circa 1860). I never heard this song of faith sung in a church even though it was included in The Faith We Sing, a companion to the United Methodist Hymnal a few years ago. I was introduced to this beautiful song by the most unlikely of places, The Muppet Show!
In the First season, Jim Henson performed this hymn as Rowlf the Dog. I remember being a child captivated by the Muppet Show, although it could rarely hold my attention for more that a few seconds. That night was different. I remember sitting in front of our first color television (which always looked too red) holding my stuffed giraffe absolutely motionless with tears streaming down my face. I did not understand the meaning of the song, but the power of the tune paired with the broken yet victorious sound of Rowlf’s voice as he struggled to find the strength to continue after each verse into the chorus touched a chord in my soul. As children are, I soon forgot this experience (as there were not as many opportunities to see programs again and there were no boxed sets to purchase).
Years later, I was at the Center for Puppetry Arts in Atlanta where Rowlf now lives on permanent display. As I came up to this funny little piece of foam and carpet, I was unexpectedly overcome with a feeling of profound well-being and peace. I did not really remember the song in that moment, but as I stood there I felt a calm cover over my then troubled soul. As I left to return home, I started humming a tune that sounded familiar, but I did not know how I knew it, only that it was salve to my sore seminarian soul. I have never told anyone about that strange experience, until today.
A few years latter, we were caring for members of my family displaced by Hurricane Katrina. We had a parsonage full of traumatized children who had just lost everything and needed some wholesome entertainment, so I went and bought the first season of the Muppet Show. Before I knew it I was sitting in the middle of our living room floor with an infant in my lap surrounded by children discovering the joy of Muppets. I was not so joyous. My Grandmother was likely dead, my first cousin was missing (he was found dead two weeks later), I had a house full of broken hearted homeless people, and I had to preach four sermons the next day. It was almost unbearable. What does one say to such people? What words can one offer at such a moment as this? Then as an answer to my prayers of grief and frustration, Rowlf began to sing…
My life flows on in endless song,
above earth’s lamentation.
I hear the clear, though faroff hymn
that hails a new creation.
No storm can shake my inmost calm
while to that Rock I’m clinging.
Since love is Lord of heaven and earth,
how can I keep from singing?
This was the first time I was able to find my tears in the aftermath of the storm. I held my infant second cousin tight to my chest and through my sobs of grief I was able to croak out the words of the chorus that I should have not known to a child who could not understand. For his part, little Emile reached out his chubby hand and pulled my beard with all his might and laughed. It was then that I knew we would survive. It was then that I knew I would not only be able to preach the following morning, but that I must sing the praises of God’s salvation into the face of death, destruction, fear and loss.
The persons touched by Jesus could not keep quiet in the face of God’s transformative acts of mercy and salvation. The early Church could not be silenced by persecution and martyrdom. The reformers would not allow the pain of schism and isolation to still their tongues from praising God. Even Rowlf the Dog rendered permanently mute by the passing of Jim Henson opened his mouth to proclaim to me the Gospel of Jesus Christ! How can I keep from singing?
And yet we allow ourselves to stand mute in the face of human tragedy and even small episodes of misfortune. We allow our circumstances to erode our faith and silence our witness. We forget the song that lives within our heart and fail to share our calm assurance in the face of adversity. There are people in this world who desperately need a word from God, and yet we don’t even offer the little that we have to ease their suffering. Scripture says that if we refuse to sing God’s praises, even the rocks and the trees will lift their voices in doxology. I know this is true, because a little Muppet sang of God’s love to me…and so God restored my soul! The Apostle Mark best describes what happened to me on that Kool-Aid stained rug in that over crowed parsonage that day when he says,
And immediately his ears were opened, his tongue was released, and he spoke plainly. Then Jesus ordered them to tell no one; but the more he ordered them, the more zealously they proclaimed it. They were astounded beyond measure, saying, “He has done everything well; he even makes the deaf to hear and the mute to speak.” – Mark 7: 35-37 (NRSV)
Even now the tune plays clear and steady in my heart, singing…
What though my joys and comforts die?
I know my Savior liveth.
What though the darkness gather round?
Songs in the night he giveth.
No storm can shake my inmost calm
while to that Rock I’m clinging.
Since love is Lord of heaven and earth,
how can I keep from singing?
This day let us meditate on the words of Robert Lowry. Let us offer these words of quite hope as our prayer…
My Life Flows On (How Can I Keep from Singing)
Robert Lowry, 1826-1899
My life flows on in endless song,
above earth’s lamentation.
I hear the clear, though faroff hymn
that hails a new creation.
No storm can shake my inmost calm
while to that Rock I’m clinging.
Since love is Lord of heaven and earth,
how can I keep from singing?
Through all the tumult and the strife,
I hear that music ringing.
It finds an echo in my soul.
How can I keep from singing?
No storm can shake my inmost calm
while to that Rock I’m clinging.
Since love is Lord of heaven and earth,
how can I keep from singing?
What though my joys and comforts die?
I know my Savior liveth.
What though the darkness gather round?
Songs in the night he giveth.
No storm can shake my inmost calm
while to that Rock I’m clinging.
Since love is Lord of heaven and earth,
how can I keep from singing?
. The peace of Christ makes fresh my heart,
a fountain ever springing!
All things are mine since I am his!
How can I keep from singing?
No storm can shake my inmost calm
while to that Rock I’m clinging.
Since love is Lord of heaven and earth,
how can I keep from singing?
AMEN.